Hollah for some Challah

Recently I remembered my ever deep love of the free Macey's Little Theater classes and I attended one on bread-making which was hands on and I got to even take home my own dough to make it later. I have never been very good at making dough, but I think because of the neat braided effect and the artisan looking sesame seeds on top that people enjoyed it although it was not too difficult nor necessarily a taste that would blow anyone away.

Hallah:

• 3-4 cups flour
• 1-3 t salt
• 1-2 eggs
• 2-7 T honey (depends on how sweet you like it)
• 2 T yeast
• 1-2 T olive oil
• 2-3 cu water
• raisins/nuts to your liking

1. Mix yeast with 1/2 c lukewarm water, let sit for 5 min or so, stir to dissolve
2. Pour flour on your work surface, make a well for adding other ingredients. Add salt, eggs, olive oil, honey and the yeast water to the well (also nuts/raisins if desired go in here)
3. Gradually stir in flour from the sides to make a soft dough. Knead until dough is elastic and ready to rise.
4. Divide dough into 3 balls and let rise until double in size. (about 1 hour)
5. Roll each ball into a long strand, and braid strands (just like you'd braid hair)
6. Place the braided loaf on a baking sheet (sprinkle baking sheet with olive oil/flour/cornmeal to prevent sticking) let proof until doubled in size. (about 1 hour)
7. Preheat oven to 375 F
8. Brush loaf with egg wash and sprinkle with poppy/sesame seeds
9. Bake until golden brown and cooked through (30-50 min)
10. Remove from oven, let cool, enjoy.

Challah is a traditional Jewish braided bread that has many different variations The ingredients are typically the same, but the amounts vary by a wide degree depending on which recipe you follow.

Boggling

It was the return that was shocking. I had planned for 21 years to go on a mission and so although there were challenges and many things to over come, a language to learn, a culture to immerse myself in, a people to teach and a slough of other things to take care of, it all came and was taken care of.

But being back was a different story. Who had prepared me for this? For the yearnings of Korean food and no one understanding me when I spoke and no one being as excited to see me as they should have been. No one really even seemed to care that I had just spent the past year and a half in another country changing myself.

But as I sat down with some of my favorite people to play one of my favorite games I remembered how much I really do love my family, even if they aren't Korean (yet). I remembered that there is always time to go back and visit Korea. 

Take a hike

On Labor Day my mom decided we should all go on a hike up Stewart Falls, which leads to a beautiful waterfall. Unfortunately, everyone else had the exact same idea, so parking was limited and the hike to the trailhead added an extra twenty minutes or so. Even though some of us decided not to go the entire way I got a couple pictures of my family.

My step-dad, Terry

Little brother Louis

cutie pie sister, Anna

scientist brother, Josh

And it wouldn't be complete without cutie cakes Kevin

Flying high

One of the great things about being back in Kentucky was getting to visit with my half siblings. I was exhausted by them at every turn, but in the end I realized that hey, they're just kids and they deserve some time to be rowdy, crazy, and a little insane, because in a few years they wont be able to go back.

One morning, when I woke up Ilya came rambling into my room. Ilya is a splendid little fellow and I love to play with him. I remember going to Europe with him last fall and some mornings we would wake up early and go running. He was only 5 at the time and so his little legs couldn't really keep up, but he tried and I slowed down. It was a great way to explore, especially since things are so much more exciting when seen through the eyes of a 5 year old.

This time when Ilya rambled into my room I grabbed him up and read to him on the bed for a few minutes. I then had this great idea and below are the results.

Put the cheese in the cake

For my farewell and to double as a birthday cake, I made myself a cheesecake on Sunday. It was my sister's recipe and another sister's springform pan, but ultimately my masterpeice and completely delicious.

Birthday Blues

My eyes are kind of itchy. Sometimes that happens when I cry a lot.

My mom and I listened to a talk on tape about marriage the other day and this guy was explaining about how we need to communicate better. A family had hired him to come observe their family to see if there was any way they could communicate better and while he was sitting at dinner with them he noticed the grandpa. What this guy would do when he wanted something, instead of asking for it, was to just stare at it until someone noticed. When asked why he replied "it means more when you don't have to ask," or basically the equivalent. The speaker went on to discuss how this notion is way off base and we can't expect others to read our minds.

Most of the time, I understand that. Sometimes I deviate.

Like my birthday.

For most days of the year I am happy to give and to receive and to not get upset over stupid things. On my birthday I always expect people to say "Happy Birthday" without being prompted. I want to be pampered and princessed and remembered, but I don't feel like I should expect these things. So instead I wait for someone to say something, or, like this morning, if no one says anything after a few hours then I will say "mom, guess what day it is today!"

Then instead of saying "I'd rather not go on your errands, I have a headache and I really just want to sleep in" I say "sure I'll go with you" and then I am cranky while I am dragged all over tar nation so that my mom can pick up some random herb and return some dinky telephone device. And then when I feel like nothing is going how I had wanted, I cry.

Continuing my example, sometimes I just need to take matters into my own hands and plan things. Kev asked "what would you like to do for your birthday?" to which I replied that it didn't matter too much just so long as I was with him. I did, however, mention that I love going out to plays, museums, musical concerts, operas, and eating dinner out. I suppose what I should have explained is that it doesn't matter so much what we do so long as we do something and so long as I feel like it was planned in advance because then I feel like people care about me and remember me. I suppose instead of saying that I was fine with him taking a test what I should have said was that I knew he needed to, but it would mean a lot if he could make it up before or around noon, instead of 6pm. I suppose what I should have said is that I go crazy by myself.

Or something like that.

Doing just peachy

One of my favorite things about late summer is peaches. I love the way they look and smell and most of all the way they taste. I love the way that a ripe peach can just dissolve in your mouth leaving you with a desire for more.



This week when I was out exploring with Anna and Kevin we chanced upon a small local grown produce stand. It had splendid melons, peaches, apples, pears, etc. We arrive and the lady at the stand says to us "just wait one moment, I have to run around to the back and get some apples. I am wheeling and dealing this morning."

While we are waiting some other customers arrive and I overhear the following conversation:
lady 1: I wonder when this fruit was picked
lady 2: It says it was picked fresh daily, but considering daily is misspelled I'm not sure if you can trust it

I looked at the signs and realized that about every 5th word was misspelled, however, at a local fruit stand I wouldn't assume this as an immediate sign of discountability. Instead we waited patiently for the lady and Anna asked:
"I have $4, how much can I get?"
fruit lady: "2 each. 2 apples and 2 peaches or 2 apples and 2 pears"
Anna: "uh... " *thinking* $1 for a fruit! Outrageous
fruit lady: "they are 50 cents each"
Anna: "So doesn't that mean I can get 8?"
fruit lady: "No, because... oh, yeah"
Anna: "okay, thanks"

So we start to peruse the fruit and as we gently are picking them up and straight away putting them in our bags the lady looks straight at us and says:
"No... no... no pinching. No, no, pinching. You know, no squuuuuueezing." At this she makes squeezing hand motions and I choke on my laughter telling myself it's not polite to laugh in people's faces. Instead I nodded, turned around and bit my cheek as hard as I could and ushered Anna to hurry.

As we quickly finished choosing our fruit and went to pay the lady apologized for her being "out of it" by explaining:
"I've been the only one here all day and I've been up since zero dark."

Anna handed the lady the money as I had disappeared to the car to release a nice hearty laugh. And it is people like this that keep me sane, people who make me laugh.

Thank you peach lady. And maybe next time you wont have to wake up at zero dark.