30/05/2026
If you know, you know… homemade pitta bread is worth every bit of the mess.
And trust me, there is A LOT of mess.
Unlike many breads, pitta dough is rolled out one by one with plenty of flour to stop it sticking, so by the time you’ve shaped and baked a whole batch there’s flour everywhere. Worktops, oven, floor… somehow even places that shouldn’t physically be possible.
But the moment they hit the hot baking stone makes it all worthwhile.
The stone heats with the oven, so when the pitta lands on it the intense heat starts cooking top and bottom straight away, creating that lovely puffed pocket in the middle. It still feels a little bit magical every time.
I’ve had this granite baking stone for 20 years now. A Christmas present from my friend Lou, who very kindly ordered it for me from a link I sent her while paying absolutely no attention to what it actually was.
Apparently two people had to carry it through her solicitor’s office when it arrived, and because she got the train home from London she ended up wheeling this enormous granite slab through the station in a little suitcase while getting increasingly annoyed with me. At one point she even needed the ticket inspector to help her onto the train with it 😂
I, meanwhile, found the whole thing absolutely hilarious.
The dough itself is similar to many breads, though I use local rapeseed oil instead of olive oil, and once baked they’re beautifully soft and fluffy. Perfect for filling and turning into proper pitta pockets.
A messy kitchen, warm bread and a stack of fresh pittas on the counter — not a bad way to spend the day.
I hope you’ve had time in the sunshine this week 💕
