Just Baking

Breakfast has a precious place in my life. I can’t imagine a single day without it. I just can’t, both for the good sake of my body and my mood. I can’t leave my house without my breakfast, even when the purpose of my outing is to have breakfast. (Got it?) Until now nothing to ramble about you might say, but where it starts to be alarming is when I find myself every night, while trying to fall asleep, thinking about what I am going to have for breakfast tomorrow. My brain starts wandering if it’s going to be cold in my kitchen and if I would have to wear my warm slippers and probably my fake Asian kimono dressing robe to face the cool day; if I will have time to sit down with my beloved and early-morning-chatty husband before he goes out to work, or if I would have to wait until he is out and have my breakfast quietly without feeling rushed; and God knows how much I hate being rushed when I’m eating. If I should have granola, toasts, leftover bread crumbled with some milk or prepare something special for breakfast. (My grandfather and I used to play a game during breakfast that consisted of crumbling bread as quickly as possible into our mug of milk. Every time he tried to distract me from winning by faking faintness and by throwing some extra bread in my mug.)

If I should have coffee or chocolate with my bowl of milk, which would require heating up the milk, which might slow me down a bit from sitting down with my chatty husband; and God knows how much I love listening to his cute jokes and childhood memories while I am trying to start off the engine of my sleepy brain.

One of his childhood memories was how his mother, who used to knead her bread every morning to feed her six children and husband, would send him just after school to the bakery to bring the bread that she has sent there hours earlier.

Still today, in some parts of Algeria and Morocco, women continue to make their bread daily by hand, and then sent them to the community oven in big trays on the heads of children wearing thick kitchen or bathroom towels to cushion the weight of the tray. You can see them one by one coming out of their respective houses trying to balance this sacred food on their head while chatting with their buddies about the next soccer game. They are brave children, as they know how important it is for the bread to arrive safely to the bakery without any blemishes and bruises. The baker knows every one of his clients personally, every child that comes there, everyone’s preferences when it comes to baking the bread: some like it crusty, others like a dark golden color or a pale golden color; the baker has to remember these details and continue to run his bakery at the same time. In case the baker would forget which one is which, the loaves of each family are identified with a wooden stamp, a specific decoration, or a specific tray, for the children to remember as well. And if bread should come out overbaked or with a burned bottom, which God forbid, the baker had to face the anger of mothers and wives who would put “Daawat El Sharr” a curse on him. Curses that involve torrential rain, undying fever and ruined bread and business, and trust me you don’t wish to be the baker at this exact moment.

One of the most common bread in these two countries is “Khobz El Dar,” which literally means the bread of the house. It is different from one family to another, but the popular recipe is the one that uses a mixture of semolina and unbleached all-purpose flour and is baked in a clay pan. This bread is fragrant, with a texture that is very soft and crumbly, and a delicate crumb.

The version I made today is different, easier and quicker than the traditional one where we use dry yeast and leave the bread to rise before baking it. You can call it a quick bread if you will, but trust me, beside the reduced time and the change in the technique, there is nothing corrupt to this bread. In fact, you will need to be free during the thirty minutes of baking, as you will find yourself going back and forth to the kitchen gazing at the delicate crumb turning from ochre to a light touch of gold, and sticking your nose at the glass of the oven (which I did four times) filling your soul with the warm smell of anise seeds and orange; my favorite flavor combination ever. I wish there was a perfume made of these two ingredients, because I would be spraying it over my body all day long.

The second best thing about this bread (the first being its delicate crumb) is that its purpose is to invite you to slow down and enjoy it leisurely. This isn’t the kind of bread you would grab quickly while looking for the remote control, and I am not naming names here, but instead taking the time to sit down with a dollop of honey butter (just mix butter at room temperature with honey until desired flavor) and meditating at how much bread and life can be beautiful. Because trust me, the last thing you want to do is to be cursed by a woman, who happens to be the baker.

Khobz El Dar: (Homemade Bread) Algerian Semolina Bread

Recipe:

- 1 tbsp butter for greasing the pan
- 1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
- 1 cup fine semolina flour
- 1 tbsp baking powder
- ¼ cup sugar
- ¼ tsp salt
- 2 tsp orange zest, or ground candied orange peels
- 1 tbsp anise seeds
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1 large egg
- 5 tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled
- Candied orange peels strips for decoration (Optional)

Grease an 8” ovenproof pan with the butter. Preheat the oven to 400F. Sift flour, semolina, baking powder, sugar, and salt into a bowl. Add orange zest and anise seeds and set aside. Whisk milk and egg in another small bowl, and then whisk in the melted butter. Add the milk mixture to the dry ingredients and stir just until incorporated. Do not overmix.Pour into the prepared pan, and smooth the top out with a spatula. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until golden and a toothpick inserted comes out clean.

Serve warm with honey butter.

To store: This bread can be kept at room temperature for 2 to 3 days, covered with plastic wrap; or it can be frozen for up to a month.

Khobz El Dar: (Pain de maison) Pain Algerien de semouline

In Francais Please:
- 120g de farine
- 120g de semouline (semoule fine)
- 50g de sucre en poudre
- ¼ c.c de sel
- 240ml de lait entier
- 1 gros oeuf
- 70g de beurre, fondu et refroidi
- 1 c.s de graines d’anis
- 2 c.c de zeste d’orange, ou de pelures d’oranges confites
- Des fines bandes de pelures d’orange confites pour décorer
- 1 c.s de beurre pour beurrer le mouleBeurrer un moule de 20 cm de diametre. Préchauffer le four à 200C.Beurrer un moule de 20 cm de diametre. Préchauffer le four à 200C.Tamiser la farine, semouline, levure chimique, et sel dans un bol. Ajouter le zeste d’orange et les graines d’anis et mettre de côté. Mélanger l’oeuf et le lait dans une petite assiette creuse, puis ajouter le beurre fondu. Verser le mélange de lait sur le mélange de farine et remuer juste assez pour que tout soit homogene. Eviter de trop remuer.

Beurrer un moule de 20 cm de diametre. Préchauffer le four à 200C.Tamiser la farine, semouline, levure chimique, et sel dans un bol. Ajouter le zeste d’orange et les graines d’anis et mettre de côté. Mélanger l’oeuf et le lait dans une petite assiette creuse, puis ajouter le beurre fondu. Verser le mélange de lait sur le mélange de farine et remuer juste assez pour que tout soit homogene. Eviter de trop remuer.Verser dans votre moule et faire cuire au four pendat 25-30 minutes, ou jusqu’à ce que le pain soit doré, et qu’un cure-dent inséré à l’interieur du pain en ressort propre.

Servir tiède avec du beurre au miel

Pour le conserver: Ce pain se conserve 2 à 3 jours, couvert d’un film plastique à temperature ambiante; ou peut se congeler jusqu’à un mois.