Meloui (ملوي)

Everything in meloui turns on the coil. You stretch the dough thin, gloss it with butter and oil, scatter semolina over it, then roll it into a rope and curl it like a little snail. That spiral is not decoration. It is how the bread learns to pull apart in soft, buttery layers under your fingers.

Work unhurriedly. The dough needs kneading so it has strength, then resting so it becomes gentle enough to stretch without fighting you. If it tears a little, don't panic. Patch it with your palm, keep it oiled, and move on. La balance est dans les yeux, the scale is in the eyes, but the hand learns quickly here.

Meloui belongs to the tea table, to breakfast, to the evening when someone comes in tired and you want something hot and generous without making a feast. Serve it with honey, butter, amlou if you have it, and mint tea. Make one more than you think you need. A table is a door you leave open.