Breaking bread

My daughter recently had to write a poem about where her ancestors are from...of course we don't know.  The only thing we know from mitochondrial DNA is that we come from east Africa, but so does all of humankind.  Interestingly enough, that is the culture for which we have the strongest affinity...probably because of Abay (my friend's mom).

Abay offered to make fit-fit for breakfast months ago...scheduling constraints prevented it from happening until last Tuesday.  I walked in as she was sitting mixing by hand what looked to be bread and bebere.  She made ours with butter and hers with olive oil (she frequently abstains from animal products for religious observance).  It was tasty and filling, and surprisingly I didn't have that sluggish feeling I normally do after a carb heavy meal - probably because it was made with whole-wheat flour.

I asked her to show me how to make this past Monday.  Like roti, it's deceptively simple - flour, water, and salt kneaded into a dough and pan fried - but there's a technique involved that requires patience, something I'm lacking.  First you have to make the kitcha (pan fried bread).  Abay kneads the ingredients by hand and pressed into a nonstick pan, cooked on one side, then flipped it by hand...let it cool and then we broke it into little pieces. 

My friend has been out of butter for over a week but it worked out that she had Earth Balance, it was a nice substitution, flavorful and dairy free.  Abay hand mixed it into the bread with bebere.  We ate it without utensils with Greek yogurt on the side.  It was delicious. 

Fresh bread is a staple food for so many - the aroma and taste can not be matched.  I think the best bread I've had was from a street vendor we stumbled upon in Mecca.  The second runner up would be the large thick Uzbeki bread.  Then there's the thin Omani bread we dipped in tea.  And of course, everyone loves Cosi's flatbread.  Seven years ago, we would get pumpernickel and challah loaves from a local baking operation...they're long gone.  Now that I think of it, I like bread...what I don't like is the packaged bread loaded with ingredients that keep it ridiculously soft and "fresh" for weeks.   

Imagine how pleasant life would be waking up to your daily bread - freshly made by mom...or stopping by a friend's house and being served fresh flat bread and tea.  In lieu of that, we have factory bakeries and hustle and bustle.