free to knead
To us, bread is a language we all speak, calling us to gather, to knead, to bake,
to share with loved ones, old and new.
SCROLL DOWN FOR ZINA’S RECIPE
Bakhdida, Iraq
To Rawan, bread is the Iraqi people. “Most of the Iraqi people make their bread by hand in their own homes. The old women gather to make the dough. It’s a flat circular bread, made from flour, yeast and water. Every home in Iraq has this bread.”
To Zina, bread is her hometown Bakhdida, a Syriac city in Northern Iraq where there is a lot of wheat cultivation. Here, bread is always the main thing on the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner. “Around my town we grow wheat and barley, dependent on rain. If the year has good rain it means it is a good year and we will reap wheat and barley in thousands of tons from Nineveh. Because of this, we are famous for our many types of bread, the most important of which is the bread of Roqaaq which can be prepared and stored for more than a month. Early morning, women and young girls gather to make the dough and prepare to bake the bread.”
“I see my Teta’s bread and her gentle wrinkled hands everywhere.”
To Shadi, bread is a connection to his ancestors, filled with his beautiful Syrian heritage and folded with memories of his grandmother, mixing flour, water and love while the grandkids waited eagerly.
To Huda, bread is her Teta back in Palestine. “It was the sun shine sparkle on my eyes while I was trying to open them to see clearly how my Teta was making bread and holding the dough like a baby, covering it inside an old blanket she had from long ago, now using it as the bread's blanket. She was patient, humble and had an unforgettable smile and whenever I enter a bakery I close my eyes and use my smell to take me back in time to those stolen moments. I see my Teta’s bread and her gentle wrinkled hands everywhere.”
