Yeasted chickpea flour and sage flatbreads

Yeasted chickpea flour flatbread

Yeasted chickpea flour flatbread

On Saturday evening a restaurant gets cacophonous. The people at the bar get louder with each drink. Children who have missed their naps are crying for their dinner. Conversations cover conversations till all you hear is a sea of noise. At one point last night we stood in the wait station craving a pocket of quiet, and a waiter said, “Do you ever just stand here and get lost in the noise?” Letting it wash over you is your best defense, trying to make sense of it only gives you headache. There’s a festival in town this weekend, and it’s noisy from morning to night. Caravans of cars and trucks, bringing in booths, engines idling as they set up. Hordes of chattering tourists. Yard parties that stretch into the night. It leaves you wanting some peace and quiet. It makes you yearn for Sunday morning. Waking slowly, speaking quietly or not at all. Whether you go to church or not, maybe remembering times you did, remembering times you had to be calm and good. Maybe nursing a headache lingering from the raucous night before. So this morning we’re looking for Sunday songs. Songs about Sunday, songs that make you feel like Sunday morning, or songs that you like to listen to on a Sunday morning. As ever, the playlist is interactive. So add what you like, or leave a song in the comments and I’ll add it for you as soon as I get a chance.

What? Another flatbread recipe? That’s right! This time of year my favorite way to eat is lots of little dishes that you eat with your hands, so I’m constantly concocting some sort of flatbread to use as a utensil and a sopper-upper. This is a sort of version of socca, the french chickpea flour flatbread. I love socca, but I find it very difficult to make, so in an attempt to limit the amount of cursing I do in front of the boys, I like to develop less frustrating methods. I’ve added eggs, and that helped. But in this case, I added yeast and some regular flour. It’s still vegan, but it’s not gluten free any more. It was simple to work with, though! It all came together like a charm–easy to roll out and bake. And tasty, too!

Here’s the Sunday Songs playlist. Have a peaceful Sunday, everyone!


1 t yeast
1 t sugar
1/2 cup warm water

1 cup chickpea flour
1 cups flour
1 t salt
1 t sage
1/3 cup olive oil

Olive oil for the bowl

Combine the yeast, sugar, and 1/2 cup water in a large bowl. Set in a warm place for about 15 minutes, to get foamy.

Stir the olive oil into the yeast mixture. Add the dry ingredients and stir well. Add enough water to make a soft but workable dough – you might not need to add any. Knead it for about 3 or 4 minutes, then roll in an oil lined bowl. Set aside to rise for an hour and a half to two hours.

Preheat the oven to 425 and put two baking sheets in to warm. Break the dough into 4 parts and roll them to be about 1/4 inch thick. They’re sticky, but they shouldn’t be too hard to roll out.

Put them on the hot sheets. Cook for 5 – 10 minutes, till it’s brown and spotted on the bottom. Flip and cook for a few minutes till brown spots form on the other side.

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6 thoughts on “Yeasted chickpea flour and sage flatbreads

  1. I’ve added Miles Davis – Concierto de Aranjuez, from Sketches of Spain. When I used to be mildly hungover on a Sunday morning, this was often played. I thought The Commodores should be included too…

    You describe the cacophony very well, I’m glad I wasn’t there !

  2. I was about to say what Daddy Pig said about your description.

    We were out recently with a crowd who’s sound crescendoed as you described. I was designated driver and, not being desensitized with drink, found myself stealing away from the tables to a quiet bar with the hostess and servers.

    Sunday morning songs. The first that came to mind is The Doxology, which meant Father Neimen was done with sermon. It made me yearn to leave church and go outside to romp with my fellow “creatures here below” and my best friend, Jody. No offense to Father Niemen, who had silver hair, sapphire eyes, and a quiet grace. Tall and handsome like Gary Cooper.

    Second, John Cage 4’33”.

    I was thinking Sunday mornings are silent, but like 4’33”. Minimal human sounds.

    April Sundays are birds singing, maybe a breeze moving branches. Winter Sundays would be quite different, sounds of walking in snow, a crunch of ice.

    • Praise God from who all blessings flow?

      4’33” is a brilliant suggestion. And you’re right about the birds singing–it’s been wonderful. Not on this rainy day, of course, although we did see some remarkable black vultures all hunched up in the rain.

      • Yes, that’s the one. Our version was “praise god from whom all blessings flow”. It was an Episcopal church. I heard some proper english there, though I never acquired that language.

        Your birds are not singing? Ours are garrulous all day. I marvel at their cheery chatter against the backdrop of raindrop grey and misty baby green.

      • We’re in the city! They might be singing and I’m too anxious to notice. Maybe it’s my mood. I’ve been distracted by Clio-worries. (She’s okay, though)

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