Hagay Ben Yehuda is one of a small number of Israeli bakers who stick close to the old ways, working by hand with organic ingredients to produce healthier, tastier bread. He is a fifth-generation baker, working in a small artisanal bakery in Kibbutz Einat, central Israel, where he returns to his roots and pioneers the search for heirloom grains. He wants to recreate the taste of the past and produce loaves that are close to the original bread that was eaten until biblical times. “This place in the Middle East is where everything started when it comes to wheat,” said Ben Yehuda, deftly kneading the dough by hand in his bakery. Wheat was first cultivated in this area about 10,000 years ago. Known as the Fertile Crescent for its shape, it included many countries in the Middle East, including modern-day Syria, Lebanon, Israel, the Palestinian territories, Jordan, and Egypt, as well as parts of Turkey, Kuwait, and Iran. But in today’s Israel, heirloom seeds have been replaced by industrial wheat and modern farming methods.
Interest in cereal heirlooms is increasing
“When I first read about baking with traditional grains about eight years ago now, it was done by European bakers,” Ben Yehuda said. “I traveled to France to do a class and they asked me, ‘But what about your ancient wheat?’ We have to come and learn from you!”That got me thinking,” she said, as she shaped loaves and placed them on baking sheets. Miriam and Moshe Rosenthal, Ben Yehuda’s great-great-grandparents, are pictured in his bakery. They arrived from Poland in the 1890s and set up a bakery in the Israeli town of Petah Tikva. (Iris Makler/CBC) “It changed the way I approached my profession, because until then, I saw France, Germany and Italy as the mother of baking. So I began this adventure of discovering the treasure that we are sitting here and they don’t even know as bakers.” Interest in baking with heirloom grains emerged later in Israel than in other North American and European countries. In the last seven to 10 years, as it has intensified, Ben Yehuda has been one of the pioneers. Wheat’s return to the future involves a steep learning curve—and a revamp of his bakery. He now mills the flour himself and, along with a milling machine that separates the bran from the grain without crushing it, has invested in a handmade Spanish stone oven that rotates the loaves as they bake. Along the way, this project has also turned him into an organic farmer. “I knew absolutely nothing about agriculture. So it was a quest for me. And I felt that if I want to be a good baker, I need to know my field,” said Ben Yehuda. “I have to go back to the source of our main ingredient, just like a winemaker knows his vineyard. I think we should be like that in the baking world.” To know a field, you need seeds to plant, but they weren’t easy to come by. In the end, Ben Yehuda approached Israel’s agricultural research institute, the Volcani Center.
Researchers hunt for seeds
Researchers at the center have been involved in the Land of Wheat project, a national effort to revive heirloom wheat varieties so that there are alternatives should the disease strike Israel’s crops. But when the researchers started their work, the cupboard was bare. “When we want to work with ancient seeds here in Israel, like the French breeder or the North American breeder, … we found out that it’s really very difficult because it doesn’t exist,” said Roi Ben-David, winter cereal breeder and researcher. at Volcani Center. Roi Ben-David, a researcher at the Volcani Center, Israel’s agricultural research institute, stands in a field of triticale, a hybrid cross of wheat and rye, in Israel’s Negev desert. Center researchers participated in the Land of Wheat project, a national effort to revive heirloom wheat varieties. (Zvi Peleg) The researchers hunted through collections and genebanks, locally and internationally, until they found some forgotten packages containing some heirloom seeds in Israel’s genebank. After planting and harvesting them, they produced enough for Ben Yehuda to start. “My concern is that after the researchers from the Volcani Center are finished, all the grains will go back into the freezers of the gene bank. And I want them to live on,” he said. When Ben Yehuda told researchers that his next goal was to combine different types of heirloom wheat in his baking, the institute planted a field of more than 100 varieties, including the curiously named Shin Jamal, camel’s tooth. They call it Hagai’s field. “For Hagay, the single ancient grain line is not enough,” Ben-David said. “He wants to get a mixture and create a kind of diversity in his grain sample, actually within his flour sample.” Looking out as the field is harvested, Ben Yehuda says he is grateful for this help in his journey as a baker. “I’m always looking for my authentic place because I’m not European and on the other hand I don’t come from Arab culture. But I live and I was born in the Middle East. I’m looking for myself,” he said. WATCHES | How ancient grains became bread for modern Israelis:
Ancient grains become bread for modern Israelis
An Israeli baker has hunted down the seed for the ancient grain of the Middle East, which he has grown, milled and turned into bread for his modern customers.
“I’m a baker and taste is above all else”
Back at his kibbutz bakery in Petah Tikva, Ben Yehuda removes the loaves from the rising cabinet, cuts off each top and inserts them one by one into the rotary oven using a large wooden peel, a shovel-like baking tool. is known. After an hour, he removes freshly baked sourdough loaves, crispy on the outside and soft and dense on the inside, and stacks them on steel racks to cool. He experiments with flours such as emmer and einkorn, and also mixes together varieties of local heirloom wheat. He believes that, as with wine, the mixture affects the taste of the bread. Freshly baked loaves are removed from the oven at Ben Yehuda’s bakery. He now mills his own flour and, along with a milling machine that separates the bran from the wheat, has invested in a handmade Spanish stone oven that rotates the loaves as they bake. (Iris Makler/CBC) Ben Yehuda says he believes taste is crucial for people to be willing to pay premium prices for artisanal organic bread made from heirloom grains. “At the end of the day, I’m a baker and taste comes first, it has to be,” he said. “A good story won’t save a loaf that isn’t tasty, people won’t buy it more than once.” Ben Yehuda says its most popular loaf is also its most expensive — made from an ancient wheat called einkorn, which is low in gluten. For this reason it is more difficult to knead and bake. He learned how to manage this ancient wheat from German bakers who use rye, a similar wheat in this sense. “I love the taste of einkorn. It was the big discovery of this trip for me,” he said. “It’s interesting how much people who are looking for health and taste agree with me.” An exterior view of Ben Yehuda’s bakery at Kibbutz Einat, Petah Tikva. He experiments with flours such as emmer and einkorn, and also mixes together varieties of local heirloom wheat. (Iris Makler/CBC) Every Friday, Ben Yehuda takes his loaves to the Tel Aviv farmers’ market. It is located in front of the sea in the city’s harbor and is full of colorful products. Near his counter, seasonal vegetables, Lebanese sweets, traditional Druze bread and Japanese beer and condiments are sold. Ben Yehuda says his main purpose is to get the word out about the heirloom wheat and gauge the public’s response to his bread. Retired Nurit Ungar has become a regular customer. “I love the taste of this bread,” Ungar said. “Also, to be able to taste something that people ate hundreds of years ago here – here! – I think it’s important and very moving.” Customers sample bread at the Ben Yehuda stall at Tel Aviv’s farmers market, located at the city’s port. He believes that taste is crucial for people to be willing to pay premium prices for artisanal organic bread from heirloom grains. (Iris Makler/CBC) Shir Halpern, who founded the farmers’ market, says she admires the effort Ben Yehuda is making to reach out. “His interaction with customers is incredible because people come for Hagay, they come for the breads and they really come to learn from him,” she said. Ben Yehuda says he’s still trying to find the perfect combination in terms of flavor and connection to the past. Perhaps one day, he will succeed in creating the bread of their ancestors for modern Israelis.
