Rosemary Flatbread

Pioneer Day is Monday and the Cooper family will gather at Gary and Denise's house in Orem tomorrow, as they have every July 24th for as long as I can remember. This year feels particular. Not different in structure but different in weight, the way a familiar piece of music sounds different when you have learned more about the person who wrote it. I have been thinking about my father's storehouse all week, about the families he has fed and the rolls Denise has made and the grace he has said at the table for forty years, and about the women at the library workshop and the woman with the grandchildren and Inez with her fifteen years of the same three meals, and about the line that runs from my father's storehouse to my own kitchen to the library in east Orem and how it is all one line, one long continuous act of feeding people because feeding people is what love looks like when you want to make it visible.

I made my Pioneer Day contribution this year: two gallons of homemade strawberry freezer jam, which I made from the Springville strawberries that come to the farmers market in June and which are the best strawberries in Utah, don't argue with me about this, I have done the research. Also a double batch of the rolls, shaped and frozen last week, baked this morning, carried in the same container my mother carries hers in because she gave it to me at Christmas and it is identical to hers, because Denise Cooper is consistent.

Tyler drove down from Boise with Stacey and their kids. Brittany came from Sandy. Josh and Katie and the cousins. Gary said grace in his usual way: easy and grateful and unhurried, like a man who has been having this conversation for forty years and knows exactly where it is going. Denise sat at the head of the table and her rolls were perfect, as they have been at every gathering of this kind, as they will be until she is not at the table anymore, which I cannot think about directly.

I sat next to my father after dinner and he put his hand on mine and said: I am proud of you, Michelle. I said: I know, Dad. I meant: thank you, this is the most important sentence you have ever said to me, I will keep it.

My contribution this year was jam and rolls, but the recipe I keep coming back to — the one I’ll make for the next gathering, and the one after that — is this rosemary flatbread, because it is the kind of thing you make with your hands and carry to a table and it lands there looking like exactly what it is: intention made edible. If Denise Cooper’s rolls are the gold standard of feeding people with love, this flatbread is a very honest second — fast enough to be practical, fragrant enough to feel like a gift, and simple enough that you can make it while you are thinking about something else, like what your father’s hand felt like on yours, and how you are going to keep that sentence forever.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
3/4 cup warm water
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Flaky sea salt for finishing

Instructions

Mix the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, kosher salt, rosemary, garlic powder, and black pepper. Add the warm water and 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Stir until a shaggy dough forms, then knead gently in the bowl for 1—2 minutes until smooth. Do not overwork it.
Rest. Cover the bowl with a clean towel and let the dough rest at room temperature for 10 minutes. This makes it easier to roll and gives the gluten time to relax.
Divide and roll. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and divide it into 4 equal pieces. Using a rolling pin, roll each piece into a rough oval or rectangle about 1/8 inch thick. Thinner is better — you want crisp edges and a slight chew in the center.
Cook. Heat a large cast iron skillet or heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat. Brush the top of each flatbread lightly with some of the remaining olive oil. Cook, oiled side down, for 2—3 minutes until bubbles form and the underside is golden and lightly charred in spots. Brush the top with olive oil, flip, and cook another 2 minutes.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a wire rack or cutting board, sprinkle immediately with flaky sea salt, and repeat with the remaining dough pieces. Slice or tear and serve warm. These are best the day they are made but hold well for several hours wrapped in a clean towel.

Nutrition (per serving)

Rosemary Flatbread — The Bread You Bring When Feeding People Is How You Love Them