So one might think a self proclaimed Challah Baker might always have the Challah Baking necessities on hand. This is never the case with me. This past week, at 11 pm Thursday night, I thought I would do my sister’s method and prep the dough then let it rise in my fridge over night. I tripled my recipe, as I had many to bake, and felt confident in the contents of my pantry.
Half way in, of course, I see the flour was running dangerously low. I stepped back into the pantry for back up, but could not find the extra flour I was sure I had. Did I mention it was 11 pm. This was just meant to be a quickie dough prep!
I though 7-11 might be able to tie me over, but alas, I left there only with Twizzlers. No flour. Fatigue was setting in, not to mention a little bit of self-hatred for my lack of planning, but I did my best to scrape the last bits of flour, and mush all the wet dough together in a bowl, cross my fingers and set it covered in the fridge.
Morning brought a chaotic mob of dough snaking about my fridge. I dropped off kids, ran back to the store, bought more flour, rolled up my sleeves and went to work. What was supposed to be an easier way to enter the holiday’s work load was bringing a whole extra set of clean up.
But maybe that is just my journey. Maybe the organization of it all is what I strive for, but the weird, chaotic fun of the day to day is just my unique stamp on living. Work and play, mix in with chaos and sweetness, and leave often unexpected blessings for me, moments of deep compassion, confusion, and contentedness.
The challah I wound up serving my own family was one of the most beautiful I had ever made, and they all said, without knowing the story behind this one, it may have been my tastiest. The challot I gave away, got no complaints, and later, after the holiday was all over, my pantry revealed for me that big bag of flour, just waiting quietly in the back.
Good thing Sukkot is just days away…