Náng (馕) is the Uyghur flatbread, a round, crusty wheat bread baked hard against the wall of a tandoor-style clay oven called a tonur, often docked at the center and scattered with sesame or onion, and used across Xinjiang to wrap kebabs or scoop up dishes. It is not a sandwich on its own but the bread that makes one, so this article treats the náng on its own terms, because whether a kebab wrap or a meat-and-bread plate works is decided here, in a plain disc with no filling at all. The defining trait is engineered sturdiness: a firm, freckled crust around a chewier crumb, built thick enough to carry hot, greasy meat without going limp.
The craft is in the dough and the oven. A low-water wheat dough is kneaded firm, rested, then shaped into rounds and pressed flat, usually with a thick raised rim and a docked, dimpled center stamped by a wooden tool so the middle stays flat and bakes evenly while the rim puffs. Before baking it is often brushed and scattered with sesame seeds or chopped onion. It is slapped onto the inner wall of the hot tonur and baked fast so it comes out crusty and deeply freckled outside, chewy within, with the topping toasted into the surface. Done well it has a hard, blistered crust that holds its shape under a load, a crumb that is chewy rather than soft and stays so for a day or more, and a flat center that takes on fat and juice at the contact face without turning to mush. Done poorly the failure modes are plain: under-baked, it is pale, doughy, and goes stale fast; over-baked, it scorches and the crumb dries to a cracker; a dough too wet or under-kneaded loses the structure and slumps under any wet filling; skip the docking and the center balloons and tears unevenly.
From there it shifts by thickness, topping, and intended use. A thinner, crisper náng suits scooping and tearing; a thicker, breadier one is built to fold around grilled meat and hold it. Sesame, onion, or a plain finish each change how it eats and what it pairs with. Where the náng is folded around charcoal-grilled cumin lamb it becomes its own preparation, the grilled-meat-and-náng assembly, and the big-plate chicken sopped with torn náng is another, each deserving its own article rather than being crowded in here. What anchors náng as an entry on its own is exactly that structural intent: a hard-crusted, chewy tonur-baked disc engineered to be plate and wrapper both, sturdy on purpose so the meat it carries reads at full strength.