NOTE: As a member of The Kitchn Cabinet, I was given free products from Daiya Foods in exchange for a recipe post. All opinions and thoughts in this post/all related posts are my own, and were not influenced by the company and/or its affiliates.
Happy fall, y’all! The weather here in New York is cooling down, the trees have started to turn, and you’d better believe I have decorative gourds and cinnamon brooms ALL over the place. I don’t know a single person who doesn’t love this season, and even if I did, I wouldn’t believe them. We all know they secretly ask for pumpkin syrup at the Starbucks drive-thru. (Just own it.)
This year though, I will admit that the crisp air is bringing with it some conflicting feelings. The beautiful spring and summer weather really alleviated a lot of cabin fever during quarantine, and it’s going to be a different situation when the weather gets colder. The holidays will be different than usual too, but since food is exempt from social distancing protocol, I’m soothing my worries by developing ALL the holiday recipes and preparing my kitchen for the cold weather. (Just ask the 15 qts. of homemade stock I made yesterday.)
OK, that’s dramatic. It has been three months since my last post though, which might be a new personal record of negligence (*sobs quietly into pillow*), but I’M BACK! It feels so good to be posting a recipe again after taking some time off to get settled into my new program. This first semester at Juilliard Historical Performance, aside from being completely surreal , has FLOWN by. Between performances, lessons, gigs, being a hashtagpracticehermit, academic courses, and life in general, I’ve been a busy bee. In the last few weeks alone, my HP friends and I have performed on the radio, played for a live-streamed master class, finished a series of concerts in Boston and NYC, and are now gearing up for our tour to Holland (!) in a few weeks. I can’t believe that, at least for now, this is the new normal.
“I received free samples of siggi’s yogurt mentioned in this post. By posting this recipe I am entering a recipe contest sponsored by siggi’s yogurt and am eligible to win prizes associated with the contest. I was not compensated for my time.”
We’re less than two weeks away from Thanksgiving, and each year, this season brings up a ton of family memories for me. For whatever reason, the thought of shoveling all manner of carbs into my face whilst making dinner-table-inappropriate jokes with my cousins at the kids table (which I know I’m going to be at for ~10 more years at least, and am totally fine with) just screams NOSTALGIA… Ya know? It’s a natural human instinct. But for me, these memories can come flooding in at LITERALLY any given moment once November hits. Take for example, the other day, while I was buying a bag of persimmons.
When I was a kid and I used to go over to my grandparents’ house, my grandma and I would draw pictures together. One day we were drawing various fruits and veggies, putting faces on them, and giving them names. All the usual suspects were there: Broccoli Rob (GET IT?!), Tommy Tomato, Apple Anne, etc. But then I said to my grandma, “What about PERSIMMON PATRICK?” She looked at me surprised and slightly impressed, like, do you actually even know what a persimmon IS, seven-year-old Sarah? No, Grandma. No I did not.
In fact, I didn’t know what a persimmon was until college. I found one in the grocery store and tried it thinking it was going to be like a tomato. I was so deliciously, delightfully, beautifully wrong – persimmons are sweet, juicy, and just taste like autumn. Sorry that’s not more eloquent.
I made you the best homemade bread in the entire world. Before you get all skeptical and tell me to stop using so many superlatives, hear me out. First of all, this is challah, so it’s automatically better than all other bread, just by virtue of BEING challah. Second, there are NO bleached or processed flours WHATSOEVER in this recipe. Still not sold? It’s soft and warm on the inside and golden brown on the outside. AND, it has herbs and cranberries in it.
I knew you’d come around.
This week, I went around telling everyone I possibly could about this challah because it came out perfectly. To my surprise, I got the question, “What is a challah?” several times. So, just in case, here’s the Merriam-Webster definition:
chal·lah
noun
1) egg-rich yeast-leavened bread that is usually braided or twisted before baking and is traditionally eaten by Jews on the Sabbath and holidays
2) the most fantastic food in the universe
Ok, so I may have put that last part in there. I know, I know, the superlatives.
This month’s Recipe Redux challenge was to recreate a healthy version of a dish that we associate with happy memories. As a child, having gone to my synagogue’s preschool and having been raised in a Reform Jewish household, challah was one of the first foods I can remember eating regularly. Every Friday morning, my parents would buy a challah from the bagel shop and bring it home for Shabbat in the evening. We would say the “hamotzi” blessing all together (or in some cases, sing, because singing is one of the only ways you can get a 4-year-old to do anything), and then pass around the eggy end piece, each tearing off a bite. This was always my favorite part of the Shabbat blessings, because the end piece of the challah is pretty much the BEST. It also meant that afterward, we would sit down to a beautiful meal as a family. Even if it was just takeout, it was always a given that we’d be eating it together. (Crying yet, mom? :D)
On top of all these fond memories, challah has always been my ultimate sicky-time comfort food. Any time I come down with a cold, bug, or food poisoning, even when I can’t fathom the idea of putting anything into my stomach, the one food I will always agree to eat is challah. And, I’m always fine to eat it again once I recover. Challah may not be physically capable of having any bad memories attached to it. This has been true for 22 years, and I don’t see it changing.
As with all great comfort foods though, challah isn’t always the best for you. Most challahs you will find for sale are made with processed white flours and sugars. If you’re like me and are trying to limit your processed food intake, comfort foods like these are often very hard to give up. Like, what if I want to eat challah more often than once every few months?
Well, I’ve found a solution. At least for me! 😉 This recipe uses roughly 2 parts whole wheat flour and 1 part whole wheat pastry flour. Originally, I was petrified that the dough wouldn’t rise like I wanted due to the heavier consistency of the flours I put in the dough. Instead, the baked end result was just as fluffy in the middle as the challah I grew up eating. Only it was nuttier, sweeter, and filled with herbs and cranberries.
I’m still shocked, but I won’t question it. I’ll just make my own challah from now on, and hope I don’t sick of it. Eh, who am I kidding. I could never be sick of challah.
Also, by the way, this recipe would impress the pants off your Thanksgiving guests, and would be even MORE amazing if made into individual dinner rolls. AHHHH THE POSSIBILITIES! When is the next Thanksgivukkah happening again? 😀
*This recipe makes two loaves. I made one traditional three-strand braided loaf and one with a round braid. You can read up on how to do both here and here.
