Since it can stay fresh for up to three months in dry climates and four weeks in wetter weather, it bought traders time as they negotiated no-man's-lands. It kept them alive as they navigated the Taklimakan Desert and other parched wastelands in the western regions and beyond.

Indeed, this humble food made with flour, yogurt, sugar and yeast embodies the bounty of Xinjiang's vast territory. It mixes into a single bowl the blend of crops harvested from the region's soaring snowcaps and plunging valleys, its sallow deserts and verdant grasslands, its lush forests and fertile basins.

A 3D map charts the coordinates where field and table intersect in Xinjiang's six naan-producing heartlands, especially localities south of the Tianshan Mountains populated by ethnic Uygurs, Kazaks and Uzbeks.

Naan's variants are regional, but its prevalence is universal. An old saying in Xinjiang goes, "Better to go three days without meat than one day without naan." It is a declaration of love that begins on the tip of the tongue, passes through the stomach and settles deep in the heart.

The Naan House sells over 30 varieties handcrafted with a litany of distinctive ingredients — pumpkin flesh and seeds, chili skins, white onions, dates, peanuts, cumin, fennel, almonds, raisins and rose petals. Favorite flavors include earthy buckwheat, sesame and walnut.