Why do my own? Cause I want plain prata, the right (coiled) way, and I want my egg “plastered”. If you understand me, we share a common language! For the uninitiated, roti prata is a popular Singapore hawker dish, an unleavened flatbread of Indian origins, cooked on a flat plate with large quantities of ghee or margarine. Known in Malaysia as roti canai.
This experiment started with frustration. I wanted some prata on Saturday, and the only stall within reach was less than average. And even that humble stall had such a long a queue I had to give up.
This drove me to Dr Leslie Tay’s ieatishootipost blog. Surely, with a little effort, I can be enjoying reasonable prata in the comfort of my home, no queue, and without the Planta to shorten my life? Dr Tay’s blog proved to be an excellent resource, all you need to know is there. This post just shares my experience using his recipe, so I am not reposting the recipe.
The dough is everything. I used the lean recipe from the blog, with no milk. It fascinated me that the dough instructions included an autolyse stage, a technique used in artisan European breads I first learnt from Ken Forkish’s book. Apparently, master bakers in Europe, and immigrant Indian prata men in Singapore have come to the same conclusion, independently. After mixing the dough, wait 20 minutes, before kneading. The result is improved dough development. A few minutes with my mixer, and the dough was trying to climb out of the bowl!
After an overnight rest, I woke up to dough that was beautifully supple and stretchable. I tried to do the “fling”, and I will say…. I can’t make it as a prata man yet, or for a while. The sight of a prata man flinging his dough is asia’s answer to a fench baker shaping baguettes.
Grab, and fling!
The point of the grab and fling is to spread the dough out into a thin, uniform, translucent sheet that is a classic example of the “window plane test”. Thanks to Dr Tay’s helpful video and weekends of working with bread dough, I didn’t get any dough onto the ceiling. But, I have a long way to go.
Now, the next step is what motivated my to do my own prata – the way I want my plain (no egg) prata. I like my prata plain. because I love, seriously love the smell, taste, texture of good dough. Now, most of the time, the average stall flings your dough into thin sheet, and folds the edges over into a square. This is ok for the egg version, where the egg is cracked into the centre, and the dough folded over. But for the plain version, it is…. well…. plain. Now, the point is, there are a few artisans who bother with another (the right!) way. The sheet is folded and rolled to form a rope, which is then pulled and double coiled into a disc. The results is layers and layers of beautiful, textured dough, worthy in my opinion, of sitting on the shelves of artisan bakeries in France. Obviously, the prata men have a problem. People aren’t willing to pay for the plain version at a price that mades this labour intensive technique worthwhile. So, you generally don’t get it, except at some dedicated stalls. And so, I am willing to do it myself just to have the coiled, plain version.
After the double coiled discs are formed, they are allowed to relax before being flattened….
And cooked on my trusty cast iron flat plate
Now, there is another little thing about prata I totally insist on. If I add egg, it must be “plaster”. Asking for “egg prata” is understood to be an egg folded into the dough. I am not impressed by this. The egg is often overcooked, the beauty of the dough is lost. The “plaster” is a different creature. It’s a egg, sunny side up on the hot plate……
Onto which a plain prata is throw before the white sets, “plastering” the egg onto the underside of the dough. The assembly is then served egg side up. This to me, is the right way! Done right, the egg will be runny, ozzing its delicious golden yolk onto the springy, fragrant dough when cut. A coiled plain prata with a runny, prefect egg plastered on top, a soft golden yolk just showing through, is the standard by which I measure a prata man. And not many places do it well, because not many customers order it. My request is sometimes met with some resistance, as it’s a non-standard request that takes a bit of care and holds up a spot on the hotplate. So, since if I can do prata in my kitchen, I can do all the plasters I want!
Verdict? Well…. a workable alternative to my nearest prata stall. And I have a lot to learn.