Feeding the Hungry Ghost (32 page)

Authors: Ellen Kanner

Breaking bread together is an ancient rite of welcome. It is also a revolutionary act. Ending all wars doesn’t take another war. It takes a communal meal. We bring our traditions, our culture, and our core beliefs — the things we value — to the table. We may not agree, but we can sit together and talk about it over food. It is a way to bridge the differences between us, to meet all our hunger, to partake in baraka. It has been our best hope for humanity dating back to biblical days. In Acts 2:46, faith brought people together, but so did sharing food. “
Every day they continued
to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.”

Here is bread to break. This is my go-to flatbread. Chewy and flavorful, it’s not quite naan, nor true Moroccan bread, but it works very well with Veggie Bhaji (see recipe,
page 197
) or with the Vegetable Couscous with Preserved Lemon and Olives (see recipe,
page 211
) — with everything, really.

I adapted and veganized the recipe from one by the late, great food writer and novelist Laurie Colwin.
“We
are
all brothers and sisters,”
as she wrote in “The Case of the Mysterious Flatbread.” “This bread from Ethiopia is very similar to a bread from India or Scotland and is appreciatively devoured by a nice Jewish
girl from Philadelphia, her husband, who was born in Latvia, and their New Yorker daughter.” And, may I amend, further monkeyed with and even improved upon a by a passionate, spiritual, though secular vegan who passes it on to you as a means of increase and baraka. It’s foolproof, forgiving, and fabulous — you will be very impressed with yourself.

Flatbread from a Starter

The flatbread starter takes just a few minutes to make. Then you leave it to its yeasty self to bubble and develop overnight. Making the bread dough takes only a few minutes more, and it needs only a couple hours to rise. You’ll have to break the bread to share, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? This flatbread is excellent served with Vegetable Couscous with Preserved Lemon and Olives (
page 211
), Veggie Bhaji (
page 197
), and any of the soups.

Serves 6 to 8

¼ cup unsweetened soy milk

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

1 teaspoon active dry yeast

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons warm water

1½ teaspoons evaporated cane sugar

2
cups whole wheat flour, plus more as needed

½ teaspoon sea salt

Oil for the skillet

Pour the soy milk into a small cup or bowl. Add the vinegar. It will curdle; don’t fret.

Pour the yeast into a medium bowl. Add 2 tablespoons warm water and the soy milk mixture.

Leave to froth for a few minutes.

Add the sugar and
cup of the flour. Stir together.

Cover the bowl with a kitchen towel and leave it on the counter or in a cool oven overnight.

The next afternoon, add 2 cups of the whole wheat flour, 1 cup warm water, and the sea salt to the starter.

Mix gently. Work in more flour, up to another ½ cup, until you have a sturdy, not sticky dough.

Cover the bowl with a kitchen towel again. Set in a warm spot to rise until doubled in bulk, 2 hours or longer.

Lightly oil an 8-inch skillet and heat over high heat.

Meanwhile, divide the dough into thirds. Flatten and stretch into rounds about 6 to 8 inches across, so that each piece of dough fits into the skillet.

Take one piece of dough and place on the skillet. Cook until tawny and pebbled with brown spots, 5 to 8 minutes per side. The flatbread is done when it’s crusty and sounds hollow when tapped.

Repeat with the remaining balls of dough.

Maybe a time will come when the whole world can cook and eat together with glad and sincere hearts. Start by doing it with someone you know. Cook with your children. Ask a friend over for a meal. Make a kitchen date with your mother, your auntie, whoever’s the keeper of the culinary flame, to learn how to make the dishes that bespeak home and celebration within your family. Host a potluck. Organize a block party. Invite everyone. There’s always room for one more. We are stronger together than apart. Hungry ghosts and hungry people — we all love a party. So pull up a chair. Let’s eat.

*
Preserved lemons are available at Middle Eastern and gourmet markets.

A generous serving of gratitude
to everyone who had faith that I could write this book and cheered me on all the way, often over a great meal, including:

Danielle Svetcov of Levine Greenberg

Georgia Hughes and all the fab folk at New World Library

Diana Abu-Jaber

Debra Dean and Cliff Fetters

Holly Gonzalez

Sharon Johnson

Lewis and Marcia Kanner

Tony Proscio and Peter Borrell

Jacqueline Rubens

Stefan Uch

Marc Zemsky

For their professional wisdom and unstinting good humor, I am grateful to:

Miami Herald
food editor Kathy Martin

Culinate
editor Kim Carlson

Mitchell Kaplan and Cristina Nosti of Books and Books

The staff of
Huffington Post,
most especially Green section editors Joanna Zelman, Travis Donovan, and Katherine Goldstein

Erica Meier and Jaya Bhumitra of Compassion Over Killing

Denise Ryan of the Organic Farming Research Foundation

In person, on the page, on the plate, the following people have carved out moments of grace in this often graceless age, and that is really what we’re hungry for:

John Ash

Nava Atlas

Lidia Bastianich

Melissa Clark

Laurie Colwin

Mireille Giuliano

Gabrielle Hamilton

Michel Nischan

Michael Schwartz

Nigel Slater

Terry Theise

Paula Wolfert

For all of the above and more, thank you, Benjamin Bohlmann, wonderful husband, courageous accountant, outstanding traveling companion. You make my life delicious.

In putting together this list of acknowledgments, I am missing people. Please forgive — I owe you dinner.