Lord of the (bread) rings - Turkish simit
By Leanne Kitchen
Is it our imagination, or are All The Lucky Bastards travelling at the moment? No matter where we look on social media, our feeds are flooded with Tuscany this, the Greek Islands that and Maldives, regional France and Prague the other. Not that we’re jellie or anything. Nah, not us. Never.
All this vicarious globe trotting has, however, got us thinking about foods strongly associated with certain places, and how much we miss eating them in situ. Bacalao in Portugal, barbecue in Texas… xiao long bao in Shanghai. And simit in Istanbul. Nothing evokes that magical city like the chewy, sesame-encrusted bread rings you buy from the little carts dotted around, making the perfect snack as you hop from one gob-smacking site to the next, leaving a trail of crumbs and seeds as you go. Sigh. Travel.
Simit have been around since around the early 1500s. You find them across Turkey and with some variation; some are crisp-ish (in Izmir they’re called gevrek, which means ‘crisp’), others are breadier, some are smaller. Variations are as much to do with individual bakers as provincial styles, although regional preferences do play a part; in the Black Sea area they lay off the sesame seeds while in Muğla the simit are quite large in circumference, for example. Some bakers give theirs a double twist; others don’t. Some use a more, or less, diluted pekmez (grape molasses) mixture to dip them in before baking; some use an electric oven and others a wood-fired one. Istanbul simit are reckoned to be the best, the dough made of flour, water, sugar, salt and yeast, shaped into rings once risen, then dipped first into a mixture of cold water and pekmez and finally into sesame seeds. We’re talking full seed encrustation by the way, not some polite sprinkle. You eat simit on their own with just a glass of sweetened çay (tea), stuffed with cheese, slathered with soft cheese and jam, or dipped into a mixture of pekmez and tahini. Straight out of the oven they’re delightfully crunchy; once cold they take on a fabulous chewiness and become denser, somehow. If you can’t get to Istanbul for your simit supplies but are heading to Sydney, you’ll find good simit at Somer Sivrioğlu’s fabulous waterside restaurant Anason at Barangaroo near Wynyard Station. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, at Menzil Turkish Bakehouse at 40 Auburn Road in Auburn. Whatever you do, please don’t call them ‘Turkish bagels’. They’re not; for a start, bagels get boiled and simit do not.
Bagels don’t get a dunk in pekmez, either. Pekmez is a thick, intense-flavoured molasses-style syrup, made by simmering down crushed fruits and it was used as a sweetener before refined sugar was widely available. To make it, fruits are mooshed, strained, then the liquid boiled down to form a syrup. Even though pekmez is about 80% sugar, calcium carbonate is added to decrease the fruit’s natural acidity and maintain a sweet edge. There are various types of pekmez, with grape the most common – there’s also mulberry, fig, carob, apple, apricot and date varieties. In rural Turkey, they still make their own pekmez in large quantities when the fruits are in season (often in conjunction with making pestil, a kind of fruit ‘leather’) and it’s a communal affair. Although the process sounds simple, it’s actually time-consuming and somewhat arduous, so everyone pitches in to help, stomping the juice out of the fruit and stirring huge vats of the fruit must over open wood fires. Similar to Italian vincotto and Arabic dibis (which you can use if you can’t find pekmez), Turks use pekmez in cooking, notably for breakfast, serving it as a drizzle over yoghurt or porridge, or mixed with tahini to make their beloved dip for bread. It’s also used in baking and consumed straight, as a natural tonic for treating everything from anaemia to strengthening pregnant women and young infants.
📷 Amanda McLaughlan
Simit
MAKES 10
Prep time: 20 mins, plus resting time Cook time: 15 -18 mins
large pinch of caster sugar
1 tbsp instant dried yeast*
500g (3⅓ cups) plain flour
1½ tsp salt
160ml (⅔ cup) pekmez
235g (1½ cups) sesame seeds
Combine 60ml (¼ cup) lukewarm water in a small bowl with the sugar, then sprinkle over the yeast. Stand for 8 minutes or until foamy. Meanwhile, combine the flour and salt in a large bowl. Add the yeast mixture and another 310ml (1 ¼ cups) luke warm water to the flour mixture, then stir until a rough dough forms.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface, then knead for 6-7 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic. Form the dough into a ball, transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, turning to coat, then cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap. Stand in a draught-free place for 1 hour or until the dough has doubled in size.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 220C and line two baking trays with baking paper.
Using your fist, gently deflate the dough. Turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and divide into 10 even-sized pieces. Combine pekmez with 80ml (1/3 cup) water in a large bowl. Place the sesame seeds on a large plate. Working with one piece of dough at a time, use your hands to roll the dough out to make ten 55cm-long ropes. Fold each rope in half so the ends align, then lift up and use your hands to twist the doubled length of dough into a two-stranded ‘rope’. Place back on the board, then join the ends together to form a circle, pressing the ends firmly to seal.
Dip each ring first into the pekmez mixture, immersing completely to coat, then drain well and toss in the sesame seeds, turning gently to generously coat. Transfer to the lined trays, then stand at room temperature for 20 minutes or until slightly puffed. Bake for 15-18 minutes or until deep golden and cooked through, switching the trays halfway through baking. Transfer to wire racks to cool.
Simit are best eaten on the day of making but will keep, frozen in an airtight container, for up to 1 month.
*Note this recipe uses a 15ml NZ tablespoon
Let’s go traveling…
