Guess post by Miriam K at the Israeli Kitchen blog

eli’s note: There’s something special about bread, particularly challah.  In this guest post, Miriam takes on the differences between challah and weekly bread.

Challot in Mahane Yehuda, Jerusalem

Challah was never ordinary bread when I was growing up. Challah was special in a special way. It had to be braided and baked a golden brown, taste slightly sweet, and have a particular moist texture. With or without raisins, white or whole wheat, it had that special challah look and taste. We would tear into the thick, fresh slices so good for mopping up cholent gravy, and once more our souls would fill with satisfaction.

When I came to Israel, an entire new challah horizen opened. The Yemenite, Sephardic, and Ethiopian communities make challot that look and taste different from the Ashekenazic braided loaf I was used to. Many Sephardim prefer not to cut their Shabbat bread with a knife, so their challot are braided into soft, round loaves that are easy to tear apart with the hands. Others simply serve pitta. Ethiopian dabbo is round and sweetened with honey. And the Yemenite jachnun and kubana, baked overnight, are breads I’d never dreamed of. But no matter how different Shabbat breads are from each other, each community bakes them in the traditional way for Shabbat and Yom Tov. Weekday bread, no matter how attractive and tasty, is weekday bread.

I gave up serving sourdough on Shabbat. The bread is good, but it doesn’t fulfill the expectations we have of that challah we’ve eaten  at hundreds of past Shabbat meals. I even got into an email argument with a Gentile baker about sourdough challot: I couldn’t make him understand that braids alone do not challah make. His argument was, if sourdough is braided to look like challah, then it must be challah. I tried to explain something about the deeper meaning of challah to Jews, but this kind of (religious) talk made him uneasy. So I gave up.

I’m not discussing the spiritual aspects of challah: that’s material for a book, and books have been written on it. But it’s clear to me that Jews have an emotional connection to challah bread – or that challah connects us emotionally to our grandparents, our families, our history. We look forward to the rituals associated with eating challah: the blessing Dad says over it; the embroidered cover that hides the loaves; the little ceremony of cutting slices and doling them out; even Baby’s favorite piece (usually the lumpy end); and finally, chewing the first golden mouthful, with its taste of yeast and sweetness. And the familiar taste takes us backwards in memory, to past Shabbatot.

A lady commenting on the Basil Bread post brought up a recipe for tri-color bread, deeply colored and flavored with basil and tomato paste. It sounds delicious;  something I’d like to try myself. But although it may be served as challah on Shabbat, me… I couldn’t call it challah.