From Chapati To Challah

Instead, I have been baking my whole-wheat-brown-sugar-only very healthy cakes (I promise!) in a strange kind of Indian oven, made from aluminum, that sits on the gas stove and bakes everything rather well. It is cheap, and locally made. Never mind that it gets rusty and bent, that the plastic handle always loses it's screw and you have to be a many armed goddess to be able to manage.

But, somehow, bread never baked properly in this rusty, handicapped contraption. And lately, with me and the kids coming closer to the Jewish Shabbat, I've really longed to bake my own challah.

I recently acquired my darling Grandmother's candle sticks, which I pretend came with her from the old country; I bought glass wine goblets, to the astonishment of all who enter my humble home; I've started preparing egg salad and carrot salad and other dishes I remember from my old country for our shabbat feast (along with the ever popular veg. curry, spicy lentils, chapati, chutney, and lemon mango pickle.)

And although the fancy shop in the next village (through the jungle and over the hill) carries good bread, nothing beats a home baked challah. Right?

So, accepting that the toaster oven has now become a need, rather than simply a want, off I went to the electrical appliance shop, credit card in hand, challenging myself to really buy one, without chickening out.

An hour later, overwhelmed and amazed, I was the owner of a top-of-the-line Indian toaster oven, very shiny, big enough to bake a real sized cake, six huge potatoes, and a broccoli-cauliflower quiche (yes, you can now get broccoli in India, in certain upscale locations, along with Italian zucchini, red cabbage, American corn, organic lettuces, basil, thyme and even asparagus! To buy a bag of these veggies costs more than an average Indian family's three month vegetable budget, but broccoli is so good for your health, just gotta have it.)

Re-discovering the Sabbath happened to me in India, strangely enough. It is lovely explaining about the Shabbat to Indian friends, who have mostly not really heard of this special day. A look of deep recognition comes into my Hindu friends' eyes when I tell them about the Queen of Shanti, coming into our world every seventh day, along with a multitude of Angels of Peace, even now and not only once upon a time.

"Om Shanti" said an old saddhu once, when I finished telling him that the Jewish Veda says that G-d realized the world she/he created was very good, and so she/he sat down to rest on the seventh day, ordering us to do so as well.

The Indian holy man was already sitting in deep rest at the time, being in perpetual Shabbat, except for his sacred fire which was his only real labor. I spoke with him about the confusion I feel so often while trying to walk on a spiritual path.

I was lamenting the need to choose a specific path, so he asked me whom I would call to help me if I was in terrible trouble. "Which name would you use?" he asked. Several years have passed and I've not made much progress on the answer to his question, I seem to be going round and round on it, although I have heard all kinds of differing opinions from family and friends. I am finding, practically if not philosophically, that without the answer to this question I cannot properly proceed.

Meanwhile, the Queen of Shanti, the Sabbath Queen, is speaking to me in new and unexpected ways. Inviting her in requires me to be peaceful enough that she can hear my call, a feat surprisingly difficult these days. And I am seeing that for her to come and stay with me, I need to treat her like a Queen, with reverence, servitude and gratitude.

One way I think I can do this is to bake beautiful challah, so I got to it in my new oven, using a recipe I found on the internet for "Grandma Rosie's Challah" (wouldn't you know, my grandmother is also named Grandma Rose, so I saw it as a sign, a good one.)

While I was shaping the dough, my cleaning lady (the love of my life) walked into the kitchen and asked me if I was trying to make a giant chapati.

I told it was an holy offering, special bread for the Shanti Queen, the Mother of Peace; she nodded her head in understanding, and sat by me quietly as I braided the long coils.

The challah failed, I'm sad to say, as the dough never rose. It was hours in the oven and came out hard, flat and a bit raw. Everyone was kind and said it was tasty, but we gave most of it to the birds on the following Tuesday.

Still, it was a step forward. It was wholehearted (along with being whole wheated, probably a mistake, adding to the undesired density.) Usually I don't really like using white flour or any refined food products, but maybe, just maybe, refined is alright for a queen.