Iraqis Chow Down on Samoon Bread

Members of staff man the oven at a bakery for Samoon bread in al-Rashid street, in Iraq's capital Baghdad on January 11, 2023. (Photo by Sabah ARAR / AFP)
Members of staff man the oven at a bakery for Samoon bread in al-Rashid street, in Iraq's capital Baghdad on January 11, 2023. (Photo by Sabah ARAR / AFP)
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Iraqis Chow Down on Samoon Bread

Members of staff man the oven at a bakery for Samoon bread in al-Rashid street, in Iraq's capital Baghdad on January 11, 2023. (Photo by Sabah ARAR / AFP)
Members of staff man the oven at a bakery for Samoon bread in al-Rashid street, in Iraq's capital Baghdad on January 11, 2023. (Photo by Sabah ARAR / AFP)

It is ubiquitous in Iraq -- a diamond-shaped bread known as "samoon" which provides an inexpensive companion to almost any meal served up on tables across the country.

Abu Sajjad, a bakery owner in central Baghdad, said he takes a fresh batch out of the oven every 45 seconds.

The small, crunchy loaves can accompany dishes from meat to rice, and can be found on tables in even the most far-flung villages.

Some Iraqis like to eat them on the go after cracking them open and adding fillings like falafel and vegetables. 

Part of their popularity lies in their simplicity -- and affordability.

"I sell eight pieces of samoon for 1,000 dinars ($0.70)," said 43-year-old Abu Sajjad, who has owned the bakery since 2005.

His son Sajjad, who is in his twenties, mixes flour, yeast and water, and sometimes a pinch of salt, then lets a machine knead the dough for 10 minutes, AFP reported.

After letting it rest, he shapes lumps of dough into diamond-shaped loaves that leave his brick oven with a crunchy crust on the outside and steaming hot on the inside.

The bakery sells 10,000 samoon pieces "on a normal day", while on Fridays, the Islamic day of rest, "we can go up to 12,000", Sajjad, the son, said. 

Their busy shop sits on Baghdad's Al-Rashid Street among dilapidated 19th century houses, while a host of restaurants make up their main customers. 

Recent commodity price hikes have seen the cost of flour imported from Turkey increase. 

But Abu Sajjad said he had "lowered the weight of each samoon from 120 to 100 grams" instead of raising prices.

According to author Nawal Nasrallah, the name samoon came from a Turkish term whose roots derive from the Greek word for bread.

While noting possible earlier versions of the loaves, she said "it seems that the diamond shape was developed by the early 20th century Iraqi bakers", writing in her cookbook and history of Iraqi cuisine, "Delights from the Garden of Eden".

With lunchtime fast approaching, Karim, a regular customer at the bakery, was among those stocking up.

"We Iraqis love samoon. We were born with it, we are used to it -- and we like it hot," the 41-year-old said while biting into a freshly baked loaf.



Tokyo Police Care for Lost Umbrellas, Keys, Flying Squirrels

This photo taken on August 2, 2024 shows thousands of umbrellas in containers at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Lost and Found Center in the Iidabashi area of central Tokyo. (Photo by Richard A. Brooks / AFP)
This photo taken on August 2, 2024 shows thousands of umbrellas in containers at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Lost and Found Center in the Iidabashi area of central Tokyo. (Photo by Richard A. Brooks / AFP)
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Tokyo Police Care for Lost Umbrellas, Keys, Flying Squirrels

This photo taken on August 2, 2024 shows thousands of umbrellas in containers at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Lost and Found Center in the Iidabashi area of central Tokyo. (Photo by Richard A. Brooks / AFP)
This photo taken on August 2, 2024 shows thousands of umbrellas in containers at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Lost and Found Center in the Iidabashi area of central Tokyo. (Photo by Richard A. Brooks / AFP)

Lost your umbrella, keys, or perhaps a flying squirrel? In Tokyo, the police are almost certainly taking meticulous care of it.

In Japan, lost items are rarely disconnected from their owners for long, even in a mega city like Tokyo -- population 14 million.

"Foreign visitors are often surprised to get their things back," said Hiroshi Fujii, a 67-year-old tour guide at Tokyo's vast police lost-and-found center.

"But in Japan, there's always an expectation that we will."

It's a "national trait" to report items found in public places in Japan, he told AFP. "We pass down this custom of reporting things we picked up, from parents to children."

Around 80 staff at the police center in Tokyo's central Iidabashi district ensure items are well organized using a database system, its director Harumi Shoji told AFP.

Everything is tagged and sorted to hasten a return to its rightful owner.

ID cards and driving licenses are most frequently lost, Shoji said.

- Flying squirrels, iguanas -

But dogs, cats and even flying squirrels and iguanas have been dropped off at police stations, where officers look after them "with great sensitivity" -- consulting books, online articles and vets for advice.

More than four million items were handed in to Tokyo Metropolitan Police last year, with about 70 percent of valuables such as wallets, phones and important documents successfully reunited with their owners.

"Even if it's just a key, we enter details such as the mascot keychain it's attached to," Shoji said in a room filled with belongings, including a large Cookie Monster stuffed toy.

Over the course of one afternoon, dozens of people came to collect or search for their lost property at the center, which receives items left with train station staff or at small local police stations across Tokyo if they are not claimed within two weeks.

If no one turns up at the police facility within three months, the unwanted item is sold or discarded.

The number of lost items handled by the center is increasing as Japan welcomes a record influx of tourists post-pandemic, and as gadgets become smaller, Shoji said.

Wireless earphones and hand-held fans are an increasingly frequent sight at the lost-and-found center, which has been operating since the 1950s.

But a whopping 200 square meters is dedicated to lost umbrellas -- 300,000 of which were brought in last year, with only 3,700 of them returned, Shoji said.

"We have a designated floor for umbrellas... during the rainy season, there are so many umbrellas that the umbrella trolley is overflowing and we have to store them in two tiers."