“The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak
to the Israelites and say to them: After you come into the land to which I am
bringing you, whenever you eat of the bread of the land, you shall present a
donation to the Lord. From your first batch of dough you shall present a loaf
as a donation; you shall present it just as you present a donation from the
threshing floor. Throughout your generations you shall give to the Lord a
donation from the first of your batch of dough.”
The recipe I used belongs to an orthodox Jewish woman who
makes this every week. You can find it here (with some background) and here. Along
with the recipe, she provides instructions on how much dough to separate, what
to say when, etc. I have made bread before but I would not call myself an
expert bread maker. Still, this seemed like something I could handle. The
recipe is HUGE (5 lbs of flour, 7 eggs, etc.) and even though I cut it in half,
it made three good sized loaves. Other than the large volume of dough, however,
it is not difficult to make. You blend the ingredients, let it rise overnight,
braid the dough, let it rise again and then bake. I put it together Friday night, let it rise overnight, then baked it Saturday morning. It worked out great.
The portion that gets burned is called “Challah.” That is
where the bread gets its name. You separate a good sized handful of dough from
the rest after the first rise (the overnight one). Then, you say a blessing.
The one suggested in the recipe goes like this:
“Blessed are you, Lord our God,
king of the universe, who has blessed us with his commandments and commanded us
regarding the separation of Challah.”
I read the blessing out loud. Then I added Psalm 51:10-12:
“Create in me a clean heart, Oh God
and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence and
take not your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and
uphold me with your free spirit.”
It is more of a prayer than a blessing but it has been bouncing
around in my head for a while. This seemed like a good time to use it. I shaped
my Challah into a roll then put it into the oven while I braided the rest of
the dough and set it to rise. I figured that would be plenty of time to burn it
to a crisp.
The hardest part for me was the braiding. There are many
different ways to braid Challah – some quite elaborate. I decided to stick with
two of the more traditional (and basic) braids. One was linear – the standard
Sabbath braid. The other was round – traditionally done at Rosh Hashanah (the
Jewish New Year). I rolled the third loaf into cinnamon rolls that I planned to
serve for breakfast Easter morning. I figured nothing says, “Happy Easter!”
like cinnamon rolls that require a burnt offering to make!
The two bread loaves looked lovely when they came out of the
oven, although a little over browned. The
cinnamon rolls did not fare as well. They ranged from over cooked to flat out
burnt. In keeping with the spirit of the recipe, I called the crispiest ones “challah,”
said a quick prayer and threw them away. Then, the three of us tried one of the
remaining rolls. The flavor was not bad - just tough from over cooking. I might
give these another try but I need to remember to cook them only about half as
long as the bread.
On Easter morning, I cut into one of my Challah loaves. The
bread was thick and chewy but flavorful and delicious. It was so good that my
husband and I ate half the loaf for breakfast. Making Challah did not have
quite the spiritual impact that I was hoping for, but I still enjoyed the
process. It was a chance to experience a tradition from another culture, as
well as learn something new. But what makes any homemade loaf of bread special
is the act of making it, eating it and sharing it with your family. In that
regard, this experiment was a complete success. I will definitely make this
again – Challah and all.
Might not cook it so long next time, though.
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