Thursday, August 21, 2008

Food, The Sabbath, And The Jewish-Wonderbread: Union Challah

On the simplest level, I look forward to the weekends because it means no more school, no more work, and plenty of free food as I go enjoy Shabbat meals with friends. I could leave it at that, but I think that there is more to it. There's something deeply edifying about sharing a spiritually inspired meal with other people, something Pavlovian about slurping hot soup on a Friday night while listening to words of Torah.

I love bread. Making it, eating it, giving it to others - the experience of Challah is the closest food preparation comes to Jewish spirituality. Jews have the custom of separating part of the dough and dedicating it to G-d, in remembrance of the food tithes given to the priests in the time of the temple. Ritual hand-washing for the bread is also a tribute to the priest's spiritual purity and the sanctity of the tithes. In keeping with all this holiness, I like to keep my bread as heavenly as possible. Seeing as bread, to me, also bespeaks such a social experience, my recipe is a conglomeration of little secret ingredients that many of my dear friends and women throughout my experiences in different Jewish communities have confided makes their challah incredible.

Union Challah: The Jewish Wonderbread
This is called Union challah because while the recipe for this has been cooking in my brain over the years, it was mostly executed in my teeny little kitchen on Union Street in Brooklyn. I don't know if a little kid has ever tried it, but if they did, they would probably deem it "too healthy". It definitely has a very wholesome texture, but is also very sweet and satisfying.

Don't ask me why, I'm not sure, but you actually don't have to knead the dough. That means this challah has everything: incredible taste, is quick to prepare, is healthy, integrates mind, body, soul... that's a lot for a little piece of bread.

Here's what you're going to have to have:

3.5 cups of warm water
2.5 Tablespoons of dry yeast
3 Tablespoons of honey
1 Tablespoon of salt
2 eggs
1/4 cup of olive oil
2.2 pounds of whole wheat or spelt flour (I usually combine the two depending on what I have)
1/2 cup of wheat germ
1/2 cup of oatmeal
1/2 cup of honey
A sprinkling of orange rinds (optional)

What to do:
Dissolve the yeast in the warm water and honey. Add half the flour with one one of the eggs, the salt, and the oil - stir well and let sit for a half an hour.

Add the rest of the flour, along with the wheat germ, oatmeal, honey, and orange rinds. Feel free to go crazy with the honey, even if it changes the texture entirely - I've noticed the more I put in, the absolutely tastier it is. Also, if you don't put enough honey in, then this bread can get very dry and it's no fun anymore. So use your judgment. (Have you noticed yet I'm obsessed with honey?)

Let the dough rise in an oiled bowl for about an hour or so.

Separate a fistfull of dough, proclaiming "This is challah - Harei Zeh Challah!"
Then say the blessing: "l-hafrish challah" (http://www.chabad.org/library/howto/wizard_cdo/aid/363331/jewish/6.-Separating-Challah.htm)
Then burn that little bugger in tin foil. The women of the Bat Ayin community in Israel have a tradition of surrounding this ritual with lots of singing, dancing, and joy. In deference to them, I usually hum under my breath and grin. Do what you please.

Shape into rolls (the texture is usually too weird for me to braid it, alas) and coat it with a mixture of egg yellows and honey, then top with oatmeal for decoration.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 35 minutes.


Separating Challah is actually the only part of cooking (besides for following all the precautions to make sure the food doesn't have any unkosher ingredients or was in contact with an unkosher surface or equipment) that involves a Mitzvah - spirituality, religious rite...and hey! Gender issues! Our favorite topic. The idea of mitzvot being gender-specific is a sort of touchy one - and though I suppose it overlaps in some sort of way with a blog about food and religion, I think the connection is far enough that I shouldn't be expected to explain it. Suffice it to say that women are associated with this particular mitzvah (along with family purity and lighting Shabbat candles). There a lot of explanations about this, and if you peruse chabad.org, you'll definitely find them. They read something along the lines of: women are special, women are nurturing, women are holy. I don't disagree with that, but I would like to decline trying to either differentiate or superimpose my individual feelings toward the mitzvah and what one may assume may be the general female population's feeling toward the mitzvah. Suffice it to say, in Jewish tradition, cooking and baking traditional Jewish foods is usually done by women, and is the woman's way of passing Jewish tradition throughout the generations. Women are far more involved in recieving the scholarly aspect of Judaism today, but men generally have less interest in integrating themselves into the world of traditional Jewish foods. I would like to encourage them to join us in the kitchen by all means. Remembering ancient temples and spiritual purity while kneading bread can be just as an important a task in perpetuating and celebrating Judaism as cracking a Talmud. If the gender lines be blurred, let them be blurred!

Hope everyone has a peaceful Shabbat!

-Ilana

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

This summer, my father decided he wants to make challah. So for a few weeks, after my mother would make the dough, my father would entertain his engineer-er brain and lovingly form the dough into 4, 5, 6, and 7 strand challahs. Then he would paint them in egg, and sprinkle the poppy seeds. (This is something my mother never does, cuz she doesn't enjoy "pachikiray.") One time, my father asked if he could do the mitzvah of separating the challah, but my mother is very protective over her mitzvah, and would not let him. :)

EndOfWorld said...

entertaining comments dispersed among the actual recipe

I'll definitely return for those. :)

ptowngirl: Interesting. My father has a real aversion to homemade challah. I think it's because his sisters forced him to eat their experiments when he was a child. trauma

EndOfWorld said...

btw, how do you not have to knead dough?

ilanica said...

I don't know! It's the magic of the Union Challah!

Just like a guy said...

Maybe more men would join their wives/sisters/overlords in the kitchen if there wasn't such an emphasis on actually getting things done.

Miri Raphaelsohn said...

haha :D
yes, when my brother cooks or bakes I need to be nowhere in sight lest my impatience at his slowness and inefficiency cause my nerves to explode.

rivka said...

Wow I love that ramble at the end about Woman! It was so...inconclusive.
And Endofworld I think that the reason the dough does not need to be kneaded is related to its unique texture and consistency.