Pişi

Pişi belongs to the broad family of fried doughs found across Anatolia and the wider Turkic and Central Asian world, where frying a simple leavened dough has long been an everyday, equipment-light way to make hot bread at home. The name comes from the Turkish verb pişmek, to cook. It is humble, regional household food rather than a documented court or festival dish, the kind of thing fried up for a weekend or holiday breakfast or to feed a crowd cheaply. It is closely related to other Turkic fried breads and is sometimes confused with the syrup-soaked sweet Lokma, but pişi is plain and savory, a vehicle for whatever is spread on it.

Hot from the oil, a good pişi is crisp and lightly blistered on the outside and airy, almost hollow, within, with a soft, slightly chewy crumb — the contrast of shattering crust and pillowy interior is the whole appeal. On its own the dough is plain and mildly savory; the point is to tear it open while steaming and load it with white cheese, a slick of butter and honey, jam or grape molasses, the soft warm dough soaking it up. Eaten straight away it is irresistible; gone cold and greasy it loses everything, so it is strictly fried-to-order food.

Pişi puffs because it is a leavened dough: the yeast produces gas during proving, and when the dough hits hot oil that gas and the water in the dough turn to steam and expand fast, blowing the inside open into its airy, hollow structure while the surface sets crisp. The oil must be hot enough — around 175 to 180 degrees Celsius — that the dough puffs and browns before it can soak up grease; oil that is too cool gives heavy, oil-logged pişi. Frying not too thick lets the center cook through before the crust over-browns. A well-proved, soft, slightly slack dough fries up lightest; a stiff or under-proved dough stays dense.