Squeezing Breakfast From a Handful of Stones
Squeezing Breakfast From a Handful of Stones
Sangak in Yazd
As the sun began to rise over Yazd, Iran, I found myself deep inside the backstreets of this ancient city, wandering around in search of ideal lighting for photographs. When my stomach started to indicate it was time for a break, I stumbled upon a home that had a wood-burning oven.
Three men were moving swiftly from one part of the room to the next, trying to maximize their time and produce enough bread for the neighborhood before it awoke for its daily activities. They were making sangak, a staple bread in the Iranian diet and popular, it seems, among everyone here.
The quarter-sized holes in the bread are produced by placing river rocks inside the dough, an idea that dates back to a time when the Persian army carried pebbles while traveling centuries ago, which would be collectively assembled into a collective traveling bread oven. When the bread is finished baking, the rocks are poked out and the bread left to cool.
I gave the bakers 5,000 rials—about twenty cents—for two pieces of sangak. The bread had a spongy texture, which, combined with a hot tea, made for an ideal breakfast. After a few days of this, I caught on and came prepared to take sangak to the next level.
I borrowed a knife from my hotel and bought a jar of jam. I found a park littered with trees and pristine patches of grass. I nestled up to a large tree in a quiet part of the park, set out my bread, knife, and jam and enjoyed breakfast in this peaceful sanctuary at the heart of the city.