Classic Jewish cuisine – ARKS, ADAM AND AXARQUIA

And my failsafe recipe for delicious bulka (and/or challah)…

Although I am not at all religious now I retain a fondness for the Ashkenazi/mid-east European food of my semi-observant north-London childhood. And fortunately, a non-kosher kitchen is no impediment to recreating some of my favourite Jewish foods and dishes. Growing up in 1960’s and 70’s suburban London, one of the advantages of a typical Jewish diet over that of my non-Jewish neighbours, was the quality of the bread we ate. While many of our non-Jewish neighbours were eating exclusively “Chorleywood” and other mass-produced batch-processed loaves, we had a more varied selection of far finer breads.

From Polish and Russian influenced light rye breads and bagels to the biblically derived (descendent of the sacred temple “shewbread”) twin challahs of the shabbat (sabbath) table, our excellent Jewish bakeries sold them all. Moreover, the fact that bakers like Grodzinski used brick ovens, well into the 1970’s meant that even their everyday white bloomers and wholemeal loaves were always perfectly baked.

Grodzinski in particular, produced superb challah in four forms; traditional plaited, round (in the form of a spiral plait) and tinned “bulka”. Their fourth offering, “egg challah” only differed in having more egg, and thus being a richer dough. The use of brick ovens ensured a well-baked, crusty loaf with a delicate dough, that aged rather that went stale. Sadly, from the late 70’s Grodzinski, in common with all their rival bakers moved over to modern steel ovens, and their challah, likewise, became the ubiquitous cottonwool most people eat today.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the emergence of the cottonwool variety coincided with a rise in the production of homemade challah as people yearned for a return to the genuine article that was no longer available at their local bakery.

These days, there are literally thousands of recipes available in print and on line for the “perfect challah” and I must have tried a hundred of them. But in the end, I always return to a very simple recipe a friend of my late mother’s (thank you very much Roberta, if you’re reading this), scribbled hurriedly on a piece of scrap paper about 40 years ago.

It couldn’t be easier or more reliable, and works equally well for all forms of the bread. Here, I’ve gone with a tinned challah – or bulka, as I knew it as a child. The advantage of bulka is that it slices easily (especially as it ages), and, after a day or two, makes superb toast. Good luck, and Shabbat shalom!

INGREDIENTS (for 1 loaf – double ingredients for 2 etc…):

2 cups (about 500gm / 16oz) strong white bread flour, plus flour for dusting

1½ packets of powdered (instant yeast – MUST BE FRESH)

1 heaped tsp salt

2 egg yolks and 1 egg white, lightly beaten

1 egg white, lightly beaten and set aside

2 tbsp corn, nut or rapeseed oil (NOT olive or sunflower)

200ml (12½ fl oz) very warm water (so that you can just put your finger in)

1 tbsp white sugar

several pinches of black poppy seeds

METHOD:

Chuck flour, yeast and salt into a large bowl and mix well

Make a deep crater in the middle of the flour with your fist

Pour beaten eggs, sugar, oil and water in crater

Using handle of a large wooden spoon (or similar) stir mixture until everything fully integrated, and mixture pulls away from side of bowl

Pull away dough stuck to spoon handle and start to knead mixture in bowl

Add flour if too moist and sticky

Tip dough onto a smooth, lightly floured surface

Knead dough – adding more flour as required – until smooth and elastic (anything from 3 to 10 minutes, though rarely more than 5)

Pour a teaspoon of oil into the mixing bowl and coat the bottom and sides

Place dough back in bowl, cover with a damp tea towel

Place bowl in a warm, still environment, like an airing cupboard, or near a radiator

After an hour or so the dough should have at least doubled in size

Grease a 2pint (1ltr) loaf tin with butter or oil and then dust thoroughly with flour

Tip dough back onto lightly floured surface and knock back two or three times (about 20 seconds)

Using a wooden dough slicer (a knife will do), cut dough into three equal pieces

Roll out each piece of dough into a strip, about a foot (30cm) long

Roughly plait the three dough strips (this really does not need to be perfect for a bulka)

Drop the plaited loaf into your prepared loaf tin.

Cover with the damp tea towel and place back in the warm, still environment to prove for about 40 minutes

After about 20 minutes set your oven at 250°c (480f).

Dough is ready when pushing up the tea towel above the level of the tin rim

Gently, brush all the exposed dough with the reserved egg white

Sprinkle generously with the poppy seeds

Place in the oven

After ten minutes, reduce oven to 190° (370f) and bake for about another 15 – 20 minutes

Remove loaf from oven and carefully tip out. If the base of the loaf sounds hollow when flicked with your finger it’s baked. If the base is a little too pale, gently put the loaf back in the tin upside down and bake for a further 5 minutes

Leave loaf to cool for about an hour. If not saving for shabbat supper or suchlike, slice off the end of the loaf, spread it with lashings of butter and a dollop of good quality jam or marmalade and enjoy the products of you labour!

A final few tips: For “loose” plaited or round challah, use a pizza stone, lightly dusted with corn flower (masa harina – NOT corn starch), for a crustier, better baked loaf. Stale challah makes the best bread pudding, and bread and butter pudding and delicious French toast. Very stale and finely crumbed (I use a coffee grinder), it makes a decadent coating for schnitzel!

As with most Yiddish words and, or phrases, gedempte does not translate easily into English. The most literal meaning could be steeped, but as this sounds so unlike an actual cooking term most cookbooks go with braised. And I suppose that in a purely technical sense the chicken (or the beef in the case of gedempte fleisch) is braised, in that it is first sealed in hot fat before being cooked slowly in a covered pot. But a Jewish cook would no more refer to her / his gedempte chicken as Braised Chicken than a French chef would call her / his Boeuf Bourguignon a beef casserole.

In any event, this is my recipe for Gedempte Chicken, or more properly, my recipe based closely on my late Great Auntie Ray’s recipe…

As with cholent (see my earlier post) there are many subtly different recipes for Gedempte Chicken, mostly influenced by from which part of the old Ashkenazi world the given recipe originated. For example, Jews of Hungarian decent always add large amounts of sweet paprika, whereas Yekkes (Jews hailing from the German-speaking lands) tend to use celery and tomato puree. However, my maternal great aunt’s grandparents (she was third generation British) were from Lithuania, and her cooking, although always excellent and delicious was highly minimalist. She considered vegetables/fruits/herbs such as celery, tomatoes and even paprika as exotic and unnecessary and thus her Gedempte Chicken was incredibly simple. Nevertheless, the handful of times I was privileged to sample it remain some of the most precious culinary memories from my childhood.

But whatever its embellishments, the template for all Gedempte Chicken is the same: Chicken, onions, garlic and heaps of schmaltz (rendered chicken fat which, as my auntie always knew, is very good for you!).*

The recipe presented here uses that template, with those basic ingredients processed as closely as possible to Ray’s recipe – with just a few tiny embellishments of my own…

INGREDIENTS (serves 4)

2 generous tablespoons – schmaltz (rendered chicken fat – now available ready-made)

4 – large chicken thighs (bone in and skin-on)

2 – large cooking onions – halved and finely sliced

1 – large carrot – roughly sliced

1 – medium-sized head of garlic – peeled and finely chopped

1 cup – chicken or meat stock

salt and ground white pepper to taste

(Optional additions include either; a large stick of celery – thinly sliced – or 2 tablespoons of Hungarian “Noble” sweet paprika, or 1 tablespoon of tomato puree, or any combination of the three)

METHOD

1) Choose a wide heavy pot and melt the schmaltz over a medium heat…

I make my own schmaltz but these days most good supermarkets have it as do most kosher butchers — I make my own schmaltz but these days most good supermarkets have it, as do most kosher butchers

2) Brown the chicken pieces in two or three batches – don’t crowd the pan…

Ray used the whole bird quartered, but I find that the breast meat tends to be a little dry from the cooking process. The dark meat works best

3) Once browned and sealed, set the chicken pieces aside…

Make sure you really brown the chicken well. This ensures a lovely caramelized skin at the finish

4) Add the onions and carrots to the same pan and saute until well browned, stirring every-so-often – about 10 minutes…

Here, I've used a blend of white ("Spanish"), baby and red onions to get a richer onion flavour. However, if you can get your hands on Roscoff onions, they work best of all — Here, I’ve used a blend of white (“Spanish”), baby white, and red onions to get a richer onion flavour. However, if you can get your hands on Roscoff Onions (the kind that Frenchmen with berets dressed in hooped shirts sell on strings dangling from their bicycles) , they work best of all

5) When the vegetables are well browned add the chopped garlic, and cook stirring for a further 2 minutes…

As always - the fresher garlic the better — As always – the fresher the garlic the better

6) Return the chicken to the pan, placing the pieces on top of the vegetables…

It's vital that the chicken sits on top of the veg — It’s vital that the chicken sits on top of the veg

7) Add enough stock to just cover the vegetables and bring to the boil – then add the seasoning and cover the pot with a tight fitting lid. Finally turn down the heat to very low and simmer for about 80 minutes…

Remember - use the bare minimum of stock. This is not a stew. Rather the chicken steams/roasts in the vapour from the stock — Remember – use the bare minimum of stock…

8) Ready to serve!

(At this stage, if you are making the dish for a dinner party and you want to impress, you can make a thickening einbren – a kind of Jewish beurre manie, only made with schmaltz, not butter. Firstly remove the chicken and all the solids from the pot and place neatly onto 4 heated plates. Then, simply melt another 2 tablespoons of schmaltz in a small saute pan before adding two tablespoons of plain white flour. Cook until the flour goes brown and just begins to burn. Then, a small ladle at a time, add the liquid from the chicken pot until it is all incorporated and you have a rich, emulsified sauce. Finally, spoon a portion of the “einbren” over the chicken on the plates.)

9) Plate up and serve…