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The Dance of Dough in the Tandoor In the backyard of my grandmother's house, the clay tandoor was always ready. Baking bread was a ceremony. Grandma would mix the sourdough starter, which had rested since the night before, with salt and flour and knead it with strength. The smell of the sourdough filled the fresh morning air. Then, we would light the tandoor with firewood until it was extremely hot. Once the embers settled, it was time for my grandmother's skill. With a large wooden paddle, she would slap the thin sheets of dough one by one onto the hot inner wall. Upon touching the heat, the dough bubbled and quickly turned golden. After a few minutes, we would retrieve the hot, baked bread with a long hook. Those homemade loaves tasted of patience and love.