Barbari, and an oven I will never own
Barbari is a long, flat Iranian bread with deep grooves along its length and a shiny, golden top. I have eaten it exactly once. The video below is twelve minutes filmed inside a bakery that makes it all day, posted to Wikimedia Commons by Street Food Tourists. I was not there and did not film it. I have watched it about five times.
What to look for. In the first couple of minutes the dough is portioned and left on a long bench, and it is very soft. Around four minutes in, a baker stretches each piece into a long oval, then runs his fingers down its length to make the grooves. Then comes a wipe of glaze, sesame on top, and the whole thing goes on a long padded peel into an oven roughly the size of my kitchen. They come out in a few minutes. Nobody hurries and nobody stops.
The glaze is called roomal: a little flour and bicarbonate of soda cooked in water until it thickens. The bicarbonate is why the crust browns so deeply and tastes faintly of pretzel.
My version
| Ingredient | Percent | Grams |
|---|---|---|
| Strong white flour | 100% | 400 |
| Water | 72% | 288 |
| Salt | 2% | 8 |
| Instant yeast | 1% | 4 |
| Sugar | 1% | 4 |
Roomal: 5 g flour, 2 g bicarbonate of soda, 100 g water, simmered for a minute until it looks like thin wallpaper paste. Sesame and nigella seeds for the top.
- Mix everything except the salt, rest 20 minutes, add the salt and squeeze it through.
- Three sets of stretch-and-folds over an hour and a half. Bulk until roughly doubled, about two hours at 21 °C.
- Divide in two. Pre-shape into loose rectangles, rest 20 minutes.
- Heat the oven to 250 °C with a heavy tray inside, for at least 40 minutes.
- On baking paper, press each piece into an oval about 35 cm long. Brush with roomal, then press five deep grooves lengthways with four fingers, going nearly to the paper.
- Seeds on, slide paper and bread onto the hot tray, bake 13 to 15 minutes until deep gold.
First attempt: the grooves vanished in the oven because I had not pressed hard enough. You need to press until it feels like you are about to tear it. Second attempt: grooves held, crust browned beautifully, and the bread was good. Not barbari, though. Theirs is a metre long and baked in a few minutes at a heat my oven only dreams about, which gives a blistered crust and a soft inside. Mine is thirty-five centimetres long and a bit more like a focaccia that has been to a good school.
I will keep the roomal. It does something to a crust I have not managed any other way.