He sucks in again, and his mind ran back to a table with a checkered cloth and a bowl of watermelon, all those pink balls piled one on top of the other. Around him, four sisters sat with long brown hair the color of a mouse or a cowboy’s steady mare. They each plucked melon balls with their long skinny fingers, holding the globes in front of their lips, tantalizing their tongues with the closeness of the sweet juice. And then the celebration really began. Emily belted out in her strongest, oldest-is-always-wisest singing voice, “happy birthday to you…” And then they all joined in, a choir of less than average voices, but voices that touched every chord with the vibrancy of love.
It’s almost time, his wife suddenly hisses, opening the door just a crack to be certain that no trace of smoke enters into her hallway, their home. Almost time for the birthday cake that he’d picked up from Wal-Mart, the flowers already melting by the time he placed it in the front seat of his car. He wonders what kind of cake his own mother would have made for Emma. Something with pink frosting and with her name piped in large cursive letters. Happy Birthday to Princess Emma.
But now its just these people, all of them somehow connected, standing around a table filled with cupcakes and glitter and packages with cards that Emma will never hold or comprehend. Pressed against the wall, he stands, watching these strangers belt out a song that once filled him with a sense of connection, of family celebrating the day on which one of their own was born. I need another drag, he thinks as soon as the chorus ends, the first slice is cut, and he steps outside, being sure to let the door slam tightly shut.
Over the past few weeks, I've found myself straddling between celebration and mourning. Celebration of my new life in Austin, mourning for the people and the places I've left behind. Some days I wake up with a sense of excitement and anticipation, other days I struggle with thoughts of discouragement, of wanting to be back home.
I know that this is not uncommon, that whenever we leave a place there are emotions that conflict. But I've been surprised at how strongly I can feel one day and then how opposite I can feel the next.
On days that darkness seems to override the light, I find myself turning to my kitchen, to my cookbooks. On Monday, I settled on a recipe of celebration. Because despite my wavering emotions, there are so many things that I'm happy about here.
This sweet Challah bread is spiraled together in a cake pan and studded with golden raisins. The spiral is supposed to symbolize the continuity of life, and it is often served at Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Each bite is a sweet and doughy wonder, a small moment of pleasure in a sometimes difficult world. I brought a few of these to some of my new friends, and I hope that they enjoyed the tender loaf as much as Ryan and I did.
*From King Arthur Flour
1/2 cup warm water
6 TBSP vegetable oil
1/4 cup honey
2 large eggs
3 cups bread flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
5 tsp instant yeast
1 1/2 cups golden raisins, packed
Topping
1 large egg
2 TBSP course sugar
1.To make the dough: Combine all of the dough ingredients except the raisins, and mix and knead them, by hand, mixer, or bread machine, until you have a soft, fairly smooth dough.
2. Allow the dough to rise, covered, for 2 hours, or until it's puffy though probably not doubled in bulk.
3. Gently deflate the dough, and knead in the raisins. Lightly grease a 9" round cake pan.
4. Roll the dough into a 30" to 36" rope. If it shrinks back, walk away and leave it alone for 10 minutes, then resume rolling. The longer the rope the more distinct the spiral, but if it isn't exactly 36" long, don't stress; just get as close as you can. Coil the rope into the prepared pan, starting in the center.
5. Cover the challah gently with lightly greased plastic wrap or a proof cover, and allow it to rise for about 60 to 90 minutes, until it's puffy and pretty much fills the pan. Near the end of the bread's rise, preheat the oven to 375°F.
6. Whisk together the egg and water. Brush the risen dough with the egg mixture. Sprinkle with coarse white sugar, if desired.
7. Bake the bread for 20 minutes, tent it with foil and bake for an additional 15 to 20 minutes, until it's a deep, golden brown, and an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center registers 190°F.
8. Remove the bread from the oven, and after a minute or so carefully transfer it to a rack. Cool the bread to lukewarm before cutting it.
Always,
Monet
Anecdotes and Apple Cores
ps...this has been submitted to Yeastspotting