
Culture • 26 May, 2025
Uzbek Flatbread: from the cradle and for life
"Respect" – perhaps the word that came up most frequently during our interview with chef and restaurateur Bakhriddin Najmiddinov, known in Uzbekistan and abroad as Bakhriddin Chustiy. And how could it be otherwise, when bread accompanies a person from birth – placed in a cradle to protect from evil spirits – through all major stages of life: first steps, leaving for the army, matchmaking, and marriage?
We met with Chustiy at his Tashkent restaurant Aksu to talk about the varieties of flatbread in Uzbekistan, how to identify their regional origins by pattern alone, what visitors absolutely must try, and the many rituals surrounding bread-making. We chose Bakhriddin primarily because he is the author of Non, a book collecting around 50 unique recipes for Uzbek bread.
Last year, Bakhriddin celebrated his 40th birthday and has been in the kitchen since age 14, starting as a cook’s assistant. The pseudonym “Chustiy” is a nod to his hometown, Chust, in the Namangan region. Today, he is a restaurateur, founder, and brand-chef of several establishments both in Uzbekistan and abroad. He is also an author, blogger, TV personality, and a prominent ambassador of Uzbek cuisine. Heads of state from more than ten countries have tasted his food. His popularity has even led to comparisons with British celebrity chef Jamie Oliver.
– Bakhriddin, please tell us about the books you've written.
– I’ve authored two books: 365 Days of Sun – a kind of travel book through Uzbekistan’s gastronomy – and Non, dedicated entirely to flatbread. We presented the first one not only in Tashkent, but also in London, and through the Embassy of Uzbekistan, we sent an official copy to the library of Queen Elizabeth II. I hope it found a worthy place on a shelf in London.
I’ve also contributed to other major book projects. Uzbegim was a large government initiative about Uzbek traditions and culture, and I was responsible for the culinary section. At its 2017 launch, I supervised the cooking of the world’s largest portion of plov, weighing nearly 7.5 tons, which earned a Guinness World Record. Another book was commissioned by the Ministry of Preschool Education to update Uzbekistan’s children's nutrition program – unchanged since 1973.
– Our topic is Uzbek bread. As of now, it’s not on the UNESCO list of intangible heritage like Armenian lavash or the French baguette, is it?
– Not yet, but initial discussions with UNESCO representatives have already taken place. It’s a long process – gathering ethnographers, historians, bakers, producing videos, organizing forums led by UNESCO officials. But I believe we’ll succeed eventually. There are too many meaningful traditions tied to bread to ignore.
– Let’s talk about those traditions.
– Bread has been part of a person’s life since infancy. It used to be placed under a baby’s head in the cradle to protect them from evil. Before leaving for the army or war, a man would bite a piece of bread, and it would be hung up at home until his return – to finish what was started. People took bread with them on journeys for protection, and during matchmaking, bread was broken to seal an agreement – this ritual is called non sindirish.
Though the customs are similar across regions, the bread itself varies. In Kokand and Fergana, there's a sweet patyr; in Samarkand – its famous round loaves. At celebrations in Samarkand, you’ll see large festive breads with “Tuylar Muborak!” (“Happy Wedding!”) written on them. In Namangan, shirmoy non is essential on the table – and it’s unthinkable to serve Samarkand bread there, or vice versa.
– So bread is almost sacred. Are there any rituals before a baker begins working?
– In the ’90s, when I trained, we were not allowed near the dough or tandir without performing ablution. It was about more than cleanliness – it was about respect. I hope that tradition still lives on.
– Can we count how many types of bread exist in Uzbekistan?
– No way. It’s a living tradition. Bakers are constantly innovating, adding modern twists to old classics. I nearly didn’t finish writing Non because I kept discovering entries in encyclopedias I’d never seen before!
– What types of bread should first-time visitors to Uzbekistan try?
– In each region, look for the local specialty: in Tashkent – rich and buttery dough; in Kokand – shortcrust kokand non or cookie-style patyr; in Samarkand – the legendary long-lasting loaves; in Namangan – shirmoy non; in Bukhara – sugar-free options for diabetics.
Khorezm probably has the widest variety (excluding Tashkent, where bakers from all regions operate): colorful loaves with tomato, pumpkin, onion, greens, meat – you name it. Their bread is unlike any other.
The best layered breads are made in Samarkand, Bukhara, and Kashkadarya – they’re oven-baked. In Khorezm, they’re cooked in a tandir, which makes them thinner and crispier.
My personal favorite? Obi-non – just water, yeast, and flour. When it’s fresh out of the oven, the aroma is unmatched. And don’t miss homemade bread made by housewives – it’s often more authentic than that of professional bakers.
– What are some of the most unusual types of bread?
– The most unusual is zo‘g‘ora non – made from sorghum (jughara) in Khorezm and Karakalpakstan. You won’t find anything like it elsewhere. In Gijduvan and Namangan, they add chickpea broth and fennel seeds to the starter – very aromatic. In Gijduvan specifically, the dough must ferment in copper – not plastic or ceramic – to trigger a specific chemical reaction.
Another one is sardak patyr – made during the cooking of a sacrificial sheep’s head and legs – fat from the broth is mixed into the dough. You’ll find this in Fergana. Also: jizza-non – a layered bread with cracklings, and piyozli-non – bread with onions.
Together with Bakhriddin, we’ve put together a mini-glossary of bread-related terms:
Chekich – a stamp used to imprint designs on bread; patterns vary by region and material.
Tandir – a clay oven where dough is slapped onto the inner walls to bake.
Novvoy – baker.
Porkash – the person who shapes the dough into rounds.
Khampotorosh – a scraper or spatula for dough (commonly used, though not in dictionaries).
Rapida – a round cushion used to shape and transfer dough to the tandir.
– So the patterns left by the chekich can identify where the bread is from?
– Absolutely. A square stamp with big holes? That’s Bukhara – wooden chekich are used there. A round, plain bread with small holes and no design? That’s from Khorezm – the tool is called tikach. In the Fergana Valley, you’ll see petal or flower motifs. Tashkent’s loaves are usually simple – though they’re getting more decorative lately.
– We’ve covered the bread itself. What table manners should guests know? You shouldn’t cut bread – it’s torn by hand. You shouldn’t flip it over – it’s disrespectful. What else?
– You shouldn’t eat bread standing, because crumbs fall and people might step on them – highly disrespectful. There’s even a saying: “Even a crumb of bread is still bread.”
You mustn’t throw bread away. The older generation always made rusks to eat with tea or soup. In the past, crushed leftover bread was sold at bazaars for breadcrumbs or even to make a children’s dessert with sugar – a kind of early “popcorn.”
Bread should never be wasted, but it can and should be reused. My book Non includes a dozen recipes using bread: you can make dimlama, sho‘rtak (as they do in Khorezm), or malda non in Surkhandarya.
– Sometimes bread is used as a serving plate – for plov, for example. Is it okay to eat it? Guests often hesitate.
– Yes, it’s totally fine. That’s an old tradition. Before plastic containers existed, bread was used to store and carry food.
– Let’s switch to travel. What’s your favorite country or city, and why?
– I’ve visited about 30 countries and 100 cities, but my favorites are the UK – for the culture – and Turkey, which feels close to our mindset. In terms of cities, I love London for its rain and status as a culinary capital, and Berlin for its abundant halal food options, thanks to the large Turkish population. Both cities offer unique yet familiar cuisine. In London, I’m hooked on wok dishes – there’s a halal place called Wok and Fire near Piccadilly. I could eat there three times a day!
– How do you explore a country gastronomically?
– When visiting a new city, I always hit three places: A – a local market for fresh produce, B – a street food stall, C – a fine-dining restaurant.
I once brought back 10 kilos of fruit from Qatar – many I’d never seen before! China had the most fascinating street food – thanks to its variety. The best seafood I’ve had was in Indonesia. Professionally, I study French cuisine the most – whether we like it or not, France sets the global culinary standard today.
I’ve noticed our fellow countrymen are often cautious eaters when abroad. If it’s about meat, that’s understandable for religious reasons. But fruits and greens? You must try them. I believe there’s no such thing as “bad” food – just different tastes, habits, and cultures.
– Finally, tell us about your current project.
– I’m working on my fifth book, inspired by Omar Khayyam’s rubaiyat. It will be a one-of-a-kind, entirely handmade piece. I want to do something no one has done before – express the beauty of Uzbek cuisine through miniature art. The artist has already begun the illustrations. We started in January, with a deadline set for September 2025.