Challah at me, bro.

Challah is one of my favorite breads. I can’t get enough of it.

 

Oh–and I’m Jewish.

 

No longer practicing, but Judaism is part of my culture–part of my identity. Maybe I didn’t latch on to the religious rituals of my upbringing, but I do hold onto the connections to food. Challah in particular reminds me of every Friday night that my family attended Shabbat services. Entering the synagogue on Fridays, I scurried off to find my two best friends immediately. We sat in our own pew, singing and praying with the guidance of our female rabbi and cantor. After services we ran to the next room where a table of snacks, wine, and juice were laid out (we call this a nosh) and anxiously waited until the HaMotzi was finished. The HaMotzi (הַמּוֹצִיא) is a prayer chanted over the bread before we can consume it.

 

When the HaMotzi was complete, we jumped to be first in line and grabbed large chunks of challah before returning to our seats; the warm, sweet aroma of the bread wafting around us, where the last bite is as delicious as the first.

 

Challah bread is usually braided, which creates large nodes and bumps that a person can pull off and eat. You don’t usually cut the bread, unless you’re making sandwiches with leftovers. Traditionally, challah is eaten in the following ritual: during Shabbat and other major holidays, the HaMotzi is sang before the bread, and then it is passed around the table indicating that each person pull off a portion for themselves. For me, challah represents both the tradition of the culture I was brought up in, as well as a symbol of communion and connection within and across cultures–because who doesn’t like challah?

 

The recipe I used was from the Kitchn by Emma Christensen

My major critique about my own baking experience is that I used a lot of cheap ingredients, which in turn made my bread taste kinda cheap. It was good challah; it tasted like it was supposed to… but something was just not right. Or just not perfect. (I’m a perfectionist. It’s my greatest strength–and my greatest weakness.)

 

Well here it is… I could only manage a 3 rope braid–6 is pretty damn hard!