“How can a nation be called great if its bread tastes like kleenex?” -Julia Child
Missing aspects of my life in Northern Italy, I took an adventure
through the suburbs of Harare to a local market named ‘Upmarket’ in an attempt
to cure my nostalgia. The concept of the market is similar of the market in
Bra, Italy although in a ginormously smaller scale in every way possible- less:
space, people, vendors, produce. The element
of surprize though is ubiquitous to both markets.
I arrived a little over an hour after the opening time of
the market. The stalls laden with fresh produce, but more of prepared foods:
from baked goods, jams, condiments and ready-made meals packed
in individual portions for those in the neighbourhood of Belgravia stopping by
to pick up a quick wholesome tasteful and possibly exotic (with Thai, Indian
and even Lebanese foods on sale) lunch, or in my case a mid-morning snack.
Longing for the familiar; a taste, the complex aroma of the
marriage of fresh and fermented artisanal bread, a crunchy crusty outside and a
delicately soft and squishy interior I made a beeline to the bread stall,
having been told that some of the tastiest sourdough bread can be found here. I
have made sourdough bread before, it is a long and tedious process, but the
results are worth the labour. So yippee artisanal bread has made itself public
to Harare, courtesy of a new local business- The Bread Co.
For those of you who have never tasted sourdough bread, I
urge you to do so. Although somewhat of a novelty for us in Harare, there is
nothing new to it as sourdough bread dates back to ancient civilizations.
For a first timer, it is peculiar- almost off tasting. This
is due to the lengthy period of fermentation and the naturally occurring yeasts.
Lost? Some-what simply put: that means the bakers do not use the standard
commercial baker’s yeast. They make, or rather grow their own yeast. They start
with the simplest mixture of flour and water- called the ‘starter’ allowing
that to ‘grow’ for a period. The natural yeasts in the form of various types of
bacteria are the key components of the sour taste of the bread. Once it has
grown to the proper volume, voila you have the home grown yeast that will not
only flavour the bread but act as a leavening agent.
When you put the bread close to your nose it is yeast like,
a fermentation of grains, at the same time creamy. Depending on the natural additives-
usually spices and flavourings you might smell some rye, or fennel.
Back to the market- To my astonishment I found the vendors
packing up, the dozens of loaves of bread had sold out within a short time of
setting up the market stall. Once you embrace the flavour, aroma and texture
you will understand why the bread does not last long at the stalls.
The atmosphere of conviviality through the market and
conversation with the bakers of the wonderful bread made up for its absence.
The short conversation between myself and the gastronomes was interrupted
several times by others seeking out this extraordinary bread. They were
directed, as I was, to some of the outlets throughout Harare, where if you
arrive early enough, and are quick enough you will get your daily bread.
Although I have never actually tasted the aforementioned
breads, I eagerly anticipate the time when I will savour the complex flavours.
The bakers assured me that it will be well worth the wait.
I decided to get something to accompany this mysterious
bread, for when I eventually find it, thinking that I best be prepared. I
headed on to the stall with the honey lady, wanting a sweet treat with a
distinctive flavour.
Again, I met a vendor informing me that their product had
sold out. A persuasive business woman though, she had no intention of letting
me leave the stall empty handed. I was offered a taster of a beautifully
fragranced creamy coloured preserve on a minuscule slice of bread. I politely
declined the creamy fruit curd, informing
the lady that my refusal was not for lack of a quality product but
rather not wanting my immune system to overwork itself rejecting this beautiful
yet deadly (only to my immune system )
fruit preserve.
Not dismayed by my immune system she encouraged me to take a
look at the other preserves. A brilliant red caught my eye and a wonderful
surprize, tamarillos jam. Commonly known as tree tomato jam. Score. My mother recently acquired two tree tomato
plants (or is it a tree? ) after my coaxing.
I have never eaten the fruit before but a little research convinced me that this somewhat exotic (at
least to our family orchard) was well worth growing.
 |
| One of the tree tomato plants in the family orchard |
Back to the honey lady, she did not need to persuade me into
purchasing the little jar of brilliant coloured jam. A quick exchange of bills
and I was off- without the bread but with some mystery jam.
I got home in time for lunch as opposed to the mid-morning
snack I had aimed for. Nonetheless, I was not about to wait till I happened to
find the bread. I toasted a slice of not so special, commercial, generic
tasting brown bread. While I waited for it to pop up I dug a teaspoon in the
jar, stirred through and felt the consistency, how else do I describe it but
jam like, gooey thick but still able to go through it. Spoon in my mouth, a
slight ting, tart, acidic. The a swift change to sweet, not a heavy sweetness
that you associate with rich foods. But a light refreshing sweetness almost
like a granadilla. The jam way a wonderful fusion of the traditional ripe tomato
flavour and that of something sweet like a strawberry. Savoury-sweet or even sweet-savoury. A great middle ground to please us all.
So now I have a jar of tamarillo jam keeping cool in the
fridge waiting patiently to accompany the
bread and perhaps I am pushing it too far to think that I might get a surprise
and come across so flavourful semi hard cheese (that would be a great pairing
with the new found jam) or should I just appreciate the availability of
sourdough bread.
For now I wait. Hopefully another good surprize will find me
soon…I am sure by then I would have found that bread.
