adas (aka sryian easter bread)

July 30th, 2006

When I was a girl, we used to spend Easter mornings at my Syrian grandparents house. It is one of those family traditions that gets seared into your brain, and the sounds, smells and memories of it, never EVER go away.

My memories of these Easter mornings (although there were sadly too few of them), were of warm baked easter bread, hunks of blue cheese, olives, and the cracking of the eggs, a Syrian tradition called what i can only spell as “ta-hoshing”.

The art of “ta-hosh” is where one person would tightly hold a festively dyed boiled egg in their hand while the other person would very lightly tap the other person’s egg with the top of theirs, trying to crack their opponent’s egg before their own. If one egg got cracked, the eggs were flipped, and the game would continue. The person who cracked both sides of your egg first, got to keep your egg.

My jiddu (grandfather in Syrian) was very highly skilled at the art of the tahosh and he would steal all my eggs within moments of the game beginning.

I was always amazed at the precision and consistency of his skills, until one Easter sunday…I learned his secret. It was all in the way one holds the egg. I never mastered his consistency, but eventually…as i grew older, I managed to steal a few of his eggs before all was said and done.

And for those among us, that felt the need to play dirty at it…my grama had secretly created some false eggs, made from ceramic, that would somehow always end up circulating the room. However, after being burned by this prank before, I quickly learned to always check for the validity of my opponents eggs before the tahosh began.

After the games had simmered down, and everyone had had their fill of the tahoshing…there would be trays of syrian easter bread, warm from the oven, smothered in butter or jam, eaten with a hunk of pungent blue cheese and a peeled hard-boiled egg with salt.

The house was always filled with so many people, as my family on my mom’s side is huge. Made up of literally swarms of brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, cousins cousins, grand children, great-grandchidren, and yes…even great-great grandchidren. The hum and buzz of the activity, and the smells of this food permeating my grandparents cozy home…while I played and laughed and ate, those memories? Will remain with me forever. never to escape.

But my jiddu died when I was 11 years old. My grama, Mary, eight years later. And with my jiddu’s passing, so passed our family gatherings and much of our traditions. We tried to keep it up for a while, when my grama was still alive…but the family was growing larger, and moving farther apart, children were growing up and moving on. It’s so sad, but that’s pretty much how it happened. How the traditions I loved so much, got lost. But only for a while!

When I was old enough, and was missing these times spent with my grandparents, I started to seek out the things that reminded me of our time together. I found that a lot of my memories could be rekindled through food. And so I sought them out. These family recipes. Most of them were well-hidden and tightly kept to the dwindling few who could still remember them. These recipes were never written down. They were just done. Remembered like family folk lore, passed from generation to generation.

But sometimes…things get lost. And that’s what started happening to my Syrian family recipes. And to prevent that, I started having my mom help me gather up all her own memories and those of her siblings and aunts, and cousins, and nieces and nephews…and I started to gather them up, one by one. Some of them varied slightly from what I remember my grama’s tasting like, and so I would alter, and test, and taste, and try again and again…until I got them as close as possible to what I remembered.

This is one of those recipes that came to me from my cousin, Tony, and his wife, Karen. They were thankfully able to do all the dirty work for me, and alter, and test, and taste and try again and again, so that I didn’t have to.

My grama’s easter bread (pronounced ah-das) has been written down into the vault. Adapted for the convenience of more modern tools…the bread maker.

And so it is with that, that I share it with you here. So that it never gets lost again. And so that it becomes part of new traditions, for anyone who wishes to make them. I hope you enjoy this bread.

SYRIAN EASTER BREAD
Recipe adapted by Tony and Karen Bozaan from my grama, Mary Sanom

INGREDIENTS:

2 Tbsp. melted butter
2/3 cup plus 1 Tbsp. water
3 Tbsp scalded Pet Milk
2 cups flour
1 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. ground mahleb (can get from middle eastern markets)
2 tsp. yeast

RECIPE INSTRUCTIONS:
(see flickr photo set for visual instructions here)

• Place all ingredients in the bread pan, starting with the liquids first. (I add in the order of ingredients listed above). Set breadmaker to dough cycle for 1.5 lb. loaf.
• When breadmaker dough cycle is finished, remove the dough & place on floured board. (sometimes, the dough turns out a little gooey, if this is the case, add a little flour until it stops sticking to your fingers)
• Divide dough in half and make into balls.
• Place balls on a lightly floured cookie sheet and cover with seran wrap.
• Let rise in warm place.
• When the balls have doubled, roll out each ball into a circle to about 1/2” thick
• Poke bread dough all over with a fork, or with a bread stamp (found at middle easter markets)
• Brush with melted butter
• Bake at 400º for 15 minutes or until golden.
• Remove from oven and brush with a layer of melted butter

Chef’s Notes:
This bread is great with butter and jam.
To reheat, pop in microwave for about 10 seconds.
Traditionally, in my family, we ate this bread on easter day with blue cheese, olives, and hard-boiled eggs.

Entry Filed under: breads, comfort foods, food memories, syrian recipes