Pita is the foundation. A staple of Mediterranean culture, timeless, essential, shared at tables for generations. It’s not just a food—it’s a ritual, a rhythm, a way of eating that is instinctively communal.
But dust? Dust is the unexpected. It’s what lingers, what finishes a dish, what gives something its defining edge. It’s za’atar scattered over warm bread, sumac brightening a salad, tahini settling into a perfect swirl. It’s the lightest touch that makes all the difference.
But dust? Dust is the unexpected. It’s what lingers, what finishes a dish, what gives something its defining edge. It’s za’atar scattered over warm bread, sumac brightening a salad, tahini settling into a perfect swirl. It’s the lightest touch that makes all the difference.
Pita is the foundation. A staple of Mediterranean culture, timeless, essential, shared at tables for generations. It’s not just a food—it’s a ritual, a rhythm, a way of eating that is instinctively communal.
But dust? Dust is the unexpected. It’s what lingers, what finishes a dish, what gives something its defining edge. It’s za’atar scattered over warm bread, sumac brightening a salad, tahini settling into a perfect swirl. It’s the lightest touch that makes all the difference.
But dust? Dust is the unexpected. It’s what lingers, what finishes a dish, what gives something its defining edge. It’s za’atar scattered over warm bread, sumac brightening a salad, tahini settling into a perfect swirl. It’s the lightest touch that makes all the difference.