Too much silence....
This summer was wonderful but really non-stop work and travel. So much has happened, but let me begin by picking up where I left off, sharing a few photos back from our time in Turkey.
Living in a small village in eastern Anatolia forces you to slow down and take in all the details of daily life, simple pleasures like eating fresh village bread. Not much has changed in a few millennia in this regard. This year we were able to document the entire bread making process, which begins early in the morning before most of the family awakens. The women prepare the neat rows of dough balls on large round trays that they carry on their head over to the tannur oven (like the tandoor oven in India). The lighting of the oven takes quite some time and is a matter of placing twigs and paper inside and lighting it with a match to get a fire going. Once hot the balls of dough are deftly twirled around till they become flattened discs. A little water on the inside of the oven, some egg brushed on top of the dough, and the next thing you know those discs are stuck all along the oven's slanted walls in gravity defying circles. Just a few minutes later, they are peeled off one by one, now transformed into fragrant, hot, puffy rounds of the most delicious bread, wrapped carefully in cloth and stacked on the tray for the family's supply of bread for the week.
Lingering around the hot oven, with lots of smiling and picture taking usually guarantees a sample of the delicious bread, best gobbled down with sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, olives and a little sheep cheese. Looking at these pictures, I remember trying to handle the burning hot bread and impatiently waiting for it to cool a little so I could savour the wonderful taste of fresh flat bread. There's nothing else like it, really.