Skip to main content

An experimental Shabbat

Tonight’s challah started out looking like this. It began with the wet, loose bread dough I had put into the fridge a few days ago. I had already made at least one big loaf out of a large chunk of this sloppy looking mixture on Wednesday.

SAM_5514

I guess this is more or less sour dough. It smells fermented. This photograph actually shows the most photogenic part of the mass/mess that had been hanging out in a stainless steel bowl on the bottom shelf of my fridge.

I made essentially the same challah dough I usually make. The texture felt different than my usual commercially yeast risen dough. It felt a bit more fragile and less robust. I thought I had about a 50% chance of the dough actually rising and was willing to take the risk.

The dough did rise, but it took longer than usual.SAM_5526

I made a test roll for me to taste.

SAM_5529

It’s a more delicate bread than the usual. I would do this again.

 

My friend Alan Divak has been doing lots of sour dough challah baking in the past several months. He is a much more scientific and careful cook than I am. Alan’s sour dough challah is carefully coddled and is really delicious. I think that if I continue this endeavor, sour dough risen challah mine will be the equivalent of my childhood neighbors who were part of a giant family of either nine or eleven kids. Those kids were all just slightly neglected and dirty  but were feisty and strong and were all terrific athletes.

There will be three guys under the age of thirty at our table tonight so we are serving beef in two varieties. coffee rubbed beef made with these spices.

SAM_5515

Looking at these two slabs of beef side by side in my pink enameled pan they reminded me of two ladies awaiting their massages.

SAM_5516

I massaged the spices into the meat.

SAM_5517

And then post cooking and cooling I was able to slice up the meat.And here is the beef awaiting re-heating for Shabbat.

SAM_5528

I also made Ethiopian spiced meat balls. They look like meat balls, no need for photos.They do have a great spicy buzz to them.

 

 

I had experimented with making pumpkin noodles earlier this week  and ended up with a massive lump of noodle dough.I made cold sesame pumpkin noodles with kale for tonight.The noodles were extra floppy and needed to rest on the kitchen table for a few hours before being sliced up.

SAM_5531

I also made a big rectangular cranberry chocolate pie.

SAM_5533

I had thought that  would use coconut oil for the oil in the crust. Let’s put it this way, the results were not at all what I expected, so I punted and turned the pie crust into something more of a cookie dough crust.  My frantic solutions to the disaster will not be recorded here. I am going to pretend to my guests that this Plan B was my goal all along.

This pie will of course be dusted with powdered sugar before  being cut into squares for serving. One of our guests is someone who was taught the refinements of an elegant table even more carefully than I was.

Well this is starting to look like the perfect fall meal with meat, cranberries and pumpkin all making an appearance.

 

Shabbat Shalom!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים

  וְנֶאֱמָן אַתָּה לְהַחֲיוֹת מֵתִים: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים   You are faithful to restore the dead to life. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Resurrector of the dead. That particular line is recited at every single prayer service every day three times a day, unless you use a Reform or Reconstructionist prayer book . In those liturgies instead of praising God for resurrecting the dead God is praised for  giving life to all.  I am enough of a modern woman, a modern thinker, to not actually believe in the actual resurrection of the dead. I don't actually expect all of the residents of the Workmen's Circle section of  Mount Hebron cemetery in Queens to get up and get back to work at their sewing machines. I don't expect the young children buried here or  the babies buried here to one day get up and frolic. Yet, every single time I get up to lead services I say those words about the reanimating of the dead with every fiber of my being. Yesterday, I e...

Connecting with the past

A few months ago I had a craving for my father’s chicken fricassee.  If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it.    My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid.  I assumed that the dish was an invention of my father’s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed.   A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I can’t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee  and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...

Food friday - your grandmother's food processor

My grandmother bought my mother this wooden bowl and a chopping knife, known in Yiddish as a hock-messer, soon after my parents got married. Yes, she also got them a dairy set as well. these wooden bowls and chopping knives were a big part of food prep when I was growing up. meatloaf and meat balls were mixed in this bowl. Chopped liver was made in this bowl as well. Sundays we often made chicken salad for lunch made out of chicken left over from Shabbat chopped with vegetables and mayo. That too, was made in this bowl. When I was in college my parents got their first food processor and the chopping bowls were not used as much. Several years ago, my father asked if i would like the bowls and the hock-messers. I was happy to have them. I like the sheer physicality of chopping up a big bowl of stuff into teeny pieces. While the wooden bowls have stood up well to the years of use, the hock-messers had not. The bladed which were bolted into their handles, wobbled. The blades wouldn't ...