A slice of Beirut
Devotees of boxed breakfast cereals are missing out – hot manaqish is really the only way to start the day
I was brought up on manaqish – Lebanese “pizzas” topped with zaatar, a blend of crushed dried thyme, sumac and sesame seeds, mixed with olive oil. When I lived in Beirut, I had manaqish at least once a week for breakfast. My mother prepared the zaatar and olive oil blend, which we took to our local baker for him to use on his dough. She always told him the same thing: “Be sure to use plenty of zaatar!”
It remains one of my favourite breakfasts, but, now, I buy it from small bakeries or hole-inthe-wall places. It was during a drive with friends, up to the Cedars, that I discovered the best manaqish I’ve ever had. It was early spring – the snow had more or less melted, but it wasn’t yet comfortably warm; as a result, the place was deserted.
I was hungry and looking for good street food when, outside a house, I spotted a saj, the kind of inverted wok on which manaqish is cooked. The door was open and the lady of the house was having coffee with her daughter inside. “Would you make us some manaqish?” I asked. Of course she would – after all, Lebanese hospitality is legendary. She went to the kitchen to get some dough and zaatar and set to work. Her dough was the same as that for marqûq (handkerchief bread) and she flattened it in the same way, passing the disk of dough from one hand to the other until it became very large and thin. She slapped the flattened dough on the gas-fired saj and, within minutes, we were munching on heavenly manqûsheh.
Sadly, whenever I’m back in Beirut, the Cedars always seem to be just a trip too far and I’ve not been back since. But maybe next time. |
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