I love bread. I love to make it and I love to eat it. It is one of the most simple and yet fascinating foodstuffs we humans have been making and eating for thousands of years, the world over. I’ve kneaded my way through a variety of breads, doughs and bakes and yet, surprisingly, I’d not attempted a good old-fashioned challah until recently. Again, it was a bit like the beigel thing; why bother when you live so close to so many traditional Jewish bakeries, whose windows are lined with shelves of gorgeously golden, plaited, yolk-yellow loaves?

But now I live in a town where a pukkah challah is the proverbial needle in a haystack, as I discovered last Friday when I ventured to a wonderful bakery on the other side of the river Avon. This is the joint where I buy rich ryes and chewy baguettes and, having noticed that they baked challah on a Friday, I thought I’d give one a go for the Shabbes table. Well, I would have forgiven them the emaciated rise, the palid-coloured crust and the extortionate price for a bit of a meh-sized loaf if it actually tasted like challah. But it didn’t. In fact, it didn’t even come close to the dear French brioche, as so many imitation, dairy-rich challahs do. I was, frankly, disappointed.

So, I returned to the wonderful ‘Book of Jewish Food’ by Claudia Roden to see what she had to say about this revered loaf (and she always has something amazing to say) and scoured the web for some traditional and not-so traditional challah recipes. Many, including my bread-making hero Dan Lepard’s, contain diary, which is not traditional and not the way I wanted to go. (Although I’m partial to a bacon sarnie, I like to stick to my roots when it comes to cooking Jewish fare.) But every breaded cloud has a silver crust and between the few recipes that had much to offer, I concocted my very own that makes two honeyed loaves to knock the yarmulke off anyone who tries it.

It’s a Shabbes tradition to make two loaves and the plus side is that you have extra to devour over the course of a weekend. (We eat one fresh from the oven on a Friday night, and then slice the other on the Saturday morning before dipping in egg, dusting with cinnamon and nutmeg, frying in butter or oil, and dousing with honey or maple syrup.)

Or in this case, slathered with butter and home-made jam.

Challah is a loaf steeped in Jewish history, folklore and tradition. It is baked and eaten for the Jewish sabbath and festivals, and reflects the belief to share and make peace within Jewish culture. Its shape changes form depending on the festivity or community it is made for, as does its flavour. Claudia Roden writes more about challah here.

My recipe uses Dan Lepard’s bread-making methods, which I always favour. I also prefer to use fresh yeast (also called bakers or cake yeast), which I buy from local indie bakeries or health food shops, but I have also allowed for dried yeast. And here’s a nifty little video (cute frum meets ‘The Brady Bunch’) to show you the many ways you can plait your challah before baking.

Ingredients

Yeast Sponge
275ml warm water
20g fresh yeast / 1 sachet easy-blend yeast (equivalent to 2 teaspoons or 7g)
275g strong organic bread-making flour (I use a mix of wholemeal and spelt, although white is used in the photographs)

Dough
500g strong organic bread-making flour, plus extra for dusting (wholemeal and spelt again)
A generous 100ml olive oil, plus extra for kneading and/or oiling baking trays
2 teaspoons salt
3 organic free-range eggs, beaten
4 tablespoons honey
1 egg yolk, beaten with a bit of water, for glazing
Poppy or sesame seeds for the crust

Method

In a large mixing bowl, add the yeast to the warm water and mix with a fork. Slowly add the flour, continuing to beat in with the fork, until the mixture has come together. Cover the bowl with a clean, dry dish cloth and leave somewhere warm for a couple of hours.

After this time, and in another large mixing bowl, beat together the vegetable oil, honey, salt and 3 beaten eggs using a fork.

Then mix in the yeast sponge…

… followed by the remaining 500g of flour.

Once the mixture comes together use your hands to bring everything together well and then, using a floured surface, knead the dough vigorously for 5 minutes, again using Dan Lepard’s kneading methods.  You can add more water or flour if you think the mixture is too dry or sticky.

Put the dough back into the bowl and cover for 10 minutes with the cloth.

Repeat this process twice more, using an oiled surface (a teaspoon of oil to cover an area the size of a dinner plate will suffice) but only kneading for a few seconds at a time.

Then cover again and leave for 30 minutes.

Line a baking sheet with parchment or oil well. At this point I then divide my dough into two portions (for two loaves), and then divide each of these into four (you will have eight pieces all together) before rolling each piece into a sausage shape ready to plait. I braid two four-plaited challahs straight onto their baking sheets. Use this video to help you.

After braiding your bread, cover each tray in a plastic bag until the loaves have doubled in size (about 1-2 hours).  Now preheat your oven to 300°F / 150°C / gas mark 2.

Remove from bags, glaze each loaf with the egg wash, and sprinkle with poppy or sesame seeds. Bake in your preheated oven for 30 minutes until golden.  (Hint: you’ll know when your loaves are ready when they are golden on top and sound hollow if you tap them on the underside.)

Serve just warm and sprinkle with sea salt for a proper Shabbes flavour.  Wrap whatever you don’t eat in brown paper and store in a cool, dry place.