Next stop... Israel!

I have to admit, I began to rethink my culinary commitment by this point in the year. Israeli food was not in my repertoire, and Google was beginning to fail me. So I turned to my fellow foodie and sister-in-law in New Mexico for some inspiration. She sent me some great ideas, one of which was Challah. I did some research and learned more about the history and custom of the making and taking of this traditional Shabbat bread. One website explained:

"Shabbat bread is called 'challah' because it is a mitzvah to 'separate challah' from bread dough, when it is made in a certain quantity. This is considered a special mitzvah for women, with its source and significance dating back to the Torah itself."

(If you are wondering, like I was, what "mitzvah" means, it refers to a commandment or religious duty.)

Along with Challah recipes, I found a lengthy description of the practice of making the bread. Before baking the dough, a portion is separated after the recitation of a special blessing. The translation is as follows:

"You are blessed, Lord our God, Sovereign of the world, Who made us holy with His commandments and commanded us to separate the challah from the dough."

I thought this would be a great learning opportunity for the girls, as after all, this grand adventure was centered about the unique intersection of cooking and culture. Of course, baking with wee ones is more easily accomplished when a recipe isn't a 16-hour process that calls for sifting about half a bag of flour. So this Mom cut corners on their learning opportunity, and opted to bring them in on the braiding-stage only. That evening, long after everyone else was in bed, I began the kneading and separating process. I was trying my best to follow the prescribed manner in which to make and bless the bread, to be able to say I had made in it the proper tradition. But I had failed to bring up the correct screen on my laptop before immersing my hands in sticky dough. Elbows on touch pads only work so well, you know. So there I stood in my quiet kitchen all alone, with half-kneaded dough badly in need of a blessing. I figured that, as I was making an honest attempt to make a proper challah, my brand of prayer would be a reasonable substitute. I bowed my head over my bowl, and earnestly offered the Lord's Prayer as I worked the dough. Something akin to rubbing one's head and patting one's stomach, it was difficult for my brains and hands to be concentrating on two entirely different subjects. Call it fate or a Freudian slip, I actually did hear myself utter the words: "And knead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." These are the moments when you realize that perhaps 4 and 5 hours of sleep a night really isn't enough for you any more...

Fast forward to the next day: the girls enjoyed "braiding" the dough and pronounced our twice-blessed bread "delicious!" To complete the Israeli meal, we had a Shabbat fish recipe http://allrecipes.com/recipe/moroccan-shabbat-fish/detail.aspx along with some delicious mint iced tea.

Here is the basic recipe I used for the Challah bread:
9 cups flour
2.5 cups lukewarm water
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup oil
1 Tbsp. salt
2 oz yeast (no need to dissolve)
5 eggs

--Preheat oven to 325. Mix together 2.5 cups flour with sugar, salt, yeast, water and oil. Mix in 4 of the eggs. Beat in 1.5 cups flour well. Add 4-5 cups flour until a very soft dough is formed. Knead. Separate challah, if necessary. Refrigerate overnight. In the morning, let warm to room temperature, for at least an hour. Make balls, then roll them into ropes. Braid. Let rise (covered) for at least 1/2 an hour. Beat last egg in separate bowl. Brush it on challah. Bake for 1/2 hour. Apply egg wash once more and bake another 30 minutes (again, watch carefully.)

May this recipe bless you, as it did me, with a wonderful kitchen memory shared with your kids (and perhaps accidental inspiration for a new blog!)