Hello and welcome to Letters to Beloved, a newsletter from Ali Bakes Bread! If by some miracle, you’ve found your way over here but are not yet subscribed, here, let me help you with that:
This is the first letter of 2025 and also the first letter where paid subscribers get first dibs. Free subscribers will get to read the full letter once it goes into the archive next month.
This month, paid subscribers get my recipe for Pakistani dal (lentils). It’s comfort food that’s perfect for the cold weather that’s overstaying its welcome. I like mine over a bowl of fresh, steaming rice with a cold pat of butter on top.
If you’d like a paid subscription but can’t swing it financially, send me a message on Instagram, and we’ll work something out.
As always, thanks for reading <3
Baker’s Note
I never make New Year’s resolutions. Still it’s natural to look back and reflect on how we’ve done. We consider the past, but also look ahead, projecting our hopes and ambitions for what may come. We use past missteps as templates for overcoming the hurdles sure to come our way. Our failures become investments that pay out in future successes—at least that’s what I tell myself after I make a boneheaded mistake.
As important as it is to acknowledge the highs and lows, I think it’s just as crucial to consider the unremarkable. We have so many demands on our time and attention that it’s natural to forget or even ignore the importance of the banal tedium that makes up most of our day.
The drudgery of the small, seemingly unimportant work makes it easy to forget our ambitions and what we’re striving for. But I believe that doing that kind of work—however mundane—with excellence and nobility sets us up for our highest achievements.
Here’s a small example.
This week at the bakery, I mixed fourteen kilos of flour and water by hand to make our starter. It took me nearly ten minutes to make sure it was all incorporated and there were no dry spots left. By the end, my arm ached and my hand was cramping into a sclerotic claw.
A strong starter is the foundation for all of our breads; if it’s neglected or poorly mixed, it affects our entire inventory. It wasn’t the most glamorous task I had that day, but it was the most rewarding.
I hardly ever get this right. I’m often impatient, and I rush through my work, eager to skip ahead to the final result. Baking has forced me to slow down and take things one step at a time. But sourdough is a tricky little gremlin—it will quickly humble your ass.
I’ve been baking sourdough for five years , and I like to think I’ve learned a thing or two. I can usually tell when my dough is properly fermented, and I have a good handle on basic shaping. I’ve baked several hundred beautiful and delicious loaves.
To kick off a new year, I wanted to splurge a little. I was excited about all the loaves that I was going to bake for people on the bread queue. I ordered a fifty pound bag of fancy, expensive bread flour and had it shipped to my doorstep.
After a long day mixing a large batch for the bread queue, I went to bake the loaves. They all came out flat and gummy. It was embarrassing, but I had to reach out to everyone I’d promised loaves to and push pickup to the following week.
I’m not sure what went wrong, but at some point, my mind must have wandered and I wasn’t paying attention to what the dough was telling me. A whole day lost, a whole batch of dough wasted, and my pride seriously bruised.
Lesson learned.
xoxo, Ali
The Bread Queue
Here’s who came up on the queue this month and got some bread! Lauren, Adeena, Ali K, Shanna, and Alex. Thank you for letting me bake for you.
Another thank you to all of the subscribers for supporting this newsletter that supports the bread project <3
If you’re interested in becoming a paid subscriber to support the bread project, we’d love to have you.
Looking for free bread? DM @alibakesbread on Instagram to get on the bread queue.
Taste This
Dal is a staple food in Pakistan. It is deceptively simple and for centuries, it has been the food of the people, nourishing families through generations of hardship and celebration alike. It’s easy to make and modest in ingredients, but there’s a depth to dal that only emerges when you give it the respect it deserves. This isn't food to rush through. It’s the kind of dish that rewards you for slowing down.
In a way, it’s the perfect reflection of what we sometimes miss in the banality of our daily lives. The things we dismiss as unsexy or mundane—the small, repetitive moments—are often where the magic is hiding. Dal, when made right, is an ode to that very idea.
Ingredients:
½ cup split red lentils (masoor dal)
Soak these overnight. If you're impatient (I get it), pour two cups of boiling water over them and let them sit for half an hour. But really, the overnight soak is ideal for that silky texture. Trust me—take your time, and you’ll be rewarded.
¼ cup chopped onion
You don’t need to be exact with your measurements. You can eyeball it. The onion here is all about adding a little sweetness and depth, but you can always use more if you like it. This is your dish. Where I would pay extra attention, however, is getting a very small, uniform dice. Take extra care here. The small dice will help the onion disappear into the dal.
1–2 cups water
The amount of water depends on how soupy or thick you like your dal. Me? I like it soupy, like a sauce that gets soaked up by the rice. But if you want it thicker, feel free to play around with the water ratio.
½ tsp salt
Not too much, but enough to balance the flavor.
¼ – ½ tsp powdered lal mirch (red chili powder)
Spice is a personal thing. Don’t overdo it, unless you want to feel it for the rest of the day. A thin slice of green chili works, too, if you want that extra kick.
¼ tsp powdered haldee (turmeric)
Turmeric is gold, both literally and figuratively. Careful though—that gold color doesn’t wash out. If you don’t have it, a nice curry powder will work wonders.
2 cloves garlic, minced
Garlic is essential. Don’t skimp on it. It adds the warmth and earthiness the dal needs. If you’re like me, you’re probably ignoring the garlic count here and adding more until it just feels right. Do you, boo.
½ tsp cumin seeds
If you've got a mortar and pestle, give these a good crush. It’ll release the fragrance that’s the heart of this dish. Don’t grind them into dust; you just want to unlock the aroma. I prefer seeds over powder because you don’t want the cumin to darken the dal. Powdered cumin also tends to be a bit overpowering. Lightly crushed seeds give a nice subtle flavor.
Optional extras:
½ tsp coriander seeds offset the warmth from the cumin seeds with a nice, fruity note.
A couple of black peppercorns (for that heat without the burn)
1 small clove (for a subtle depth)
A small piece of cinnamon bark (about twice the size of a clove)
Instructions:
Combine everything and start the simmer: Rinse your lentils and toss them in a pot with the water, salt, onion, garlic, and spices. Bring it to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low. Cover the pot and let it cook until it becomes creamy and the lentils lose their shape. This isn't a race—let it unfold at its own pace. Some people elect to use a blender towards the end, but…
Don’t be reckless with your blender: Hot dal and blenders don’t mix. Trust me. I’ve learned the hard way. If you want to blend it, let it cool first—otherwise, expect a hot mess.
Consistency is your call: I like mine soupy, like a sauce for rice. But some people like it thicker. Either way, let it simmer until the dal reaches the texture that feels right to you.
Serve over rice: Use good, aged basmati rice. This is my favorite brand.
A few more optional touches:
Crispy onions: Fry up ¼ to ½ cup of sliced onions until they’re golden and crispy. Pour them over the top of the finished dal for texture and flavor. It's simple, but it elevates the whole dish.
Veggie boost: If you’ve got zucchini or yellow crookneck squash, cut them into quarters and simmer with the dal. It adds sweetness and balances the heat.
Garnish:
Top it off with a sprinkle of fresh cilantro. And if you’re feeling extra (I mean, why not?), a little squeeze of lemon adds brightness.
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That’s letter #5. We’ll be back next month with another round. Please reach out, let me know what you liked, didn’t like, and if there’s anything I should eat or try.