I went to Paris and all I got was this craving for labne

Plus a Mokonuts-inspired recipe for mini pita

Finished pita, looking very dramatic in the lateday sun.

I’m the type of traveler who makes decisions on where to visit because of what I hope to eat there. Barbecue and breakfast tacos in Austin, sourdough in San Francisco, cured fish in Copenhagen – I plan trips by selecting the food first, activities later. 

Sure, hiking is fun. But you know what’s even more fun? Hiking with an array of pastries from Seattle’s Sea Wolf Bakery to devour when you reach the summit. I know the view was breathtaking at the top of whatever mountain or hill it was that we climbed. I can’t remember its name – but I can recall how satisfying those chocolate croissants and pretzels were after three hours of trekking up a steady incline. 

The exhibits at the Nobel Museum in Stockholm are a blur, but I have such vivid recollections of sitting on its steps and savoring a cardamom bun from Rosendals Trädgård. That feeling was probably the closest I’ll ever get to the joy of winning a Peace Prize. 

I like to think of these sensory experiences like little souvenirs. I don’t need t-shirts or keychains to remind me of the good times I had on my trip. Instead I seek out the best culinary excursions, pocketing the feelings of true satiation to add to my collection. 

Culinary commemoratives are best when they fully encapsulate the best a city has to offer. Not in a clichéd “you have to eat fish and chips in London” sort of way, but more in the way of pairing wine with a meal, except substitute tourist activity for the wine. It’s getting a vanilla soft serve ice cream cone after being out in the hot sun on the coast of Maine or sitting down to a quiet meal of yakitori after wandering around Tokyo’s overstimulating shopping districts. The food is great on its own, but what makes it even better – what makes it a memento – is enjoying it at exactly the right place, exactly when you want it. 

As much as I plan ahead¹, I often find the things I look back on most fondly are the ones for which I didn’t prepare. It’s exhilarating to discover something. Isn’t that the whole point of vacation anyway, to be carefree and let curiosity lead the way? I didn’t expect to try Surinamese food in Rotterdam or unearth a hidden Japanese food court beneath a luxury mall in Honolulu – and that made them all the more thrilling. 

One of my recent vacation discoveries came on a trip I took to Paris last December. I didn’t go to France planning to develop a new appreciation for labne. Baguettes, brie, wine – those were all par for the course. And yet I keep reminiscing about the lunch we had at Mokonuts, a Lebanese-Japanese-French café in Le Marais (that also happens to be a favorite of Parisian doyenne Dorie Greenspan).

Labne and pita as served at Mokonuts (courtesy of Mokonuts)

The labne itself was delicious, so creamy and rich. But it was how it was served – alongside a tiny bowl of tiny bread that was replenished whenever we ate our way through another serving – that made the meal all the more enjoyable. Those pillowy pitas were the perfect vessel to dip into the thick, creamy yogurt. I didn’t want the experience to end, so I filed it away in my mind palace for when I returned home. Less than 48 hours after I was stateside, I purchased a container of labne and modified my go-to pita recipe to incorporate more whole grain flour hoping to mimic Mokonuts’ version. 

I wasn’t as focused on duplicating the original as I was in recreating how I felt while I was there, rekindling that vacation mindset. When you’re traveling, you’re aroused from your day-to-day routine. In a new place, you view the world around you with a sense of discovery. Everything is interesting, worth exploring, worth tasting. You don’t plan menus; you decide what to eat based on what looks good and what you’re craving at that moment. And, unless you end up in truly desperate circumstances, this usually makes whatever you end up eating all the more satisfying.

It’s hard to channel that sensation when you return back to normal life. But whenever I’m feeling like I need a little break, I open my metaphorical cabinet of food souvenirs and pick out a dish that will bring me back to a certain moment I want to relive. Though sometimes a keychain or t-shirt is a nice (and much less labor-intensive) way to look back, too.

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Recipe: Mokonuts-inspired mini pita ends²

Makes 12-24 pitas, depending on how mini you want them to be

Recipe notes:

• Pita is a flatbread so it’s very forgivable and perfect for any skill level. I use a stand mixer but you can easily make these by hand, it will just require a longer knead time and some strong biceps. 

• The key is using a very hot oven to get the dough – with its high water content – to rise. Watching pita puff up is one of nature’s greatest natural wonders, like watching a baby bird hatch from its egg. After plopping in each round, make sure your oven light is on so you can see them inflate. You know they’re ready to come out once they’ve ballooned. 

• I used King Arthur bread and whole wheat flours; the rye flour is Bob’s Red Mill brand (though any high-quality flour brand will do). Olive oil is California brand and kosher salt is Morton’s.

• Depending on how many you make, how hungry you are and how many people you are feeding, you can store extras in a plastic bag on the counter for a few days or in the freezer. Reheat whenever you feel like transporting yourself back to Paris.

INGREDIENTS

• 10g / 2 tsp granulated sugar

• 12g instant yeast

• 415g warm water (divided, as marked in recipe)

• 300g whole wheat flour

• 140g bread flour

• 60g dark rye flour 

• 2 tbsp olive oil

• 1.5 tsp kosher salt

• Ground cornmeal for dusting

STEPS

1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together sugar, yeast and 165g of water until frothy. 

2. Add in flours, olive oil and kosher salt and the next 70g of water. Stir together on low setting until incorporated.

3. Turn up the mixer speed to a medium setting and knead the dough until it starts to form a ball. 

4. Once it's pulled away from the sides, add in the extra 120g of water. Mix on low to start so water doesn’t splash everywhere, then turn the speed back to medium/high until you have a smooth ball of dough. It will be sticky, but also stick to itself. It doesn’t hold its shape and should not pass the windowpane taste.

5. Transfer the dough to a lightly greased proofing container and cover it with plastic wrap. Let sit for an hour-ish until doubled in size.

6. Preheat the oven to 550℉ (or as hot as it will go). Place a pizza stone, baking steel or upside down sheet pan on the second-to-the-top rack of your oven. The top rack is often too close to the broiler. Once your oven gets to this scorching hot temperature, let it stay heated for 30 minutes or so while you shape the dough and let it rise for the second proof.

7. Once dough has doubled, get a sheet pan out and generously sprinkle cornmeal on top of it. 

8. Wet your hands and start to form small golf ball-sized balls of dough, placing them on the cornmeal-dusted sheet pan. You might need to wash and rewet your hands if dough starts to stick too much to them and you can’t shape them easily. Give them enough room to spread out a little bit, about a ½ inch on each side. Cover with a damp tea towel and let sit for another 30 minutes to an hour until they’ve puffed up and nearly doubled. 

9. Turn your oven to the broil setting. 

10. Once the pita balls are puffy and ready, dust your counter with more cornmeal. Using the palm of your hand or a small rolling pin, flatten each ball into a round disc, about ¼ inch thick. Don’t worry about deflating them, they will bounce back in the oven. Roll out three or four at a time and then immediately place them into the oven on whatever surface (steel, stone or pan) you chose. BE VERY CAREFUL. Close the oven as soon as you can and watch until each one puffs up in the center, about 3-5 minutes depending on size. 

11. Remove from oven and place on a wire rack or a basket with a towel in it if you plan to serve them immediately. Repeat with remaining dough until you’ve made all of your pitas.

12. Wait a few minutes to cool, then cut into adorable little pieces. Enjoy with labne and fond memories of your Paris vacation.

1. My methods for obsessive research and Instagram deep-diving I conduct before every trip might need to be a future newsletter post.

2. adapted from Michael Solomonov’s pita recipe in “Zahav”