My husband’s frame of reference for Babka is a Seinfeld episode. Jerry and Elaine debate which babka, cinnamon or chocolate, is the lesser babka. In case you’re curious, my husband believes that chocolate is the lesser babka and cinnamon reigns supreme.
When I told him I was developing a recipe for a savoury babka, filled with figs, olives and halloumi cheese, he said, “that sounds interesting”, but we have been married for almost 39 years and I knew exactly what he was thinking. “Why would you mess with perfection?”
Olives and halloumi cheese add a salty note and dried figs and a drizzle of honey add a touch of sweetness. A generous dusting of za’atar takes the Babka fully into Mediterranean territory.
The finished loaf was so yummy. The buttery brioche dough baked up soft and tender. Little pockets of salty melted cheese combined with honey-sweet dried figs and briny olives to create the perfect bite. I served this with drinks one night for aperitivo and then toasted the leftover slices the next day to serve with a fruit and cheese plate for lunch. It freezes beautifully.
My husband ate his slice very quietly and then suggested that while it was delicious, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that it was savoury and contained no sugar or cinnamon. He suggested that I just name it Fig, Olive and Halloumi Loaf, so that those with a similar mindset wouldn’t be disappointed when you promise Babka. I guess you have to know your audience. Whatever you call it, it’s just plain delicious.
It’s been almost two weeks since I last posted. Lest you think I was slacking off, please be assured that I have been hard at work perfecting the babkala for you. While this mashup is not quite as well known as the cronut, it is most assuredly very delicious. I do believe that making 8 loaves of babkala in 10 days, qualifies me as something of an expert on the subject. With each attempt, I tweaked the recipe just a bit to improve it. I had many eager taste testers to help me on my journey. I do believe that my UPS delivery man has a bit of a crush on me now.
A traditional babka is made with a brioche dough, which is essentially a sweet yeast dough enriched with butter and eggs. I decided to forgo the brioche dough and just used my regular challah dough instead. I rolled out the challah dough and blanketed it with a buttery brown sugar and cinnamon spread and dotted it with raisins. The dough was rolled up, sliced and then twisted into loaves.
While some consider a cinnamon babka to be the lesser babka, I respectfully disagree. But if you must, you could fill yours with chocolate. I won’t judge. This is not really meant to be a Friday night challah. It’s more of a breakfast or brunch treat for a Saturday or Sunday morning. Or even a Tuesday afternoon. I have sampled it almost every day of the week, and trust me when I say it’s always amazing.
Who among us hasn’t wished for more hours in the day? Well consider me your little “time fairy.” I’m going to give you 24 extra hours! In case you’ve forgotten, 2016 is a leap year. February 29, is leap day. With all that extra time on your hands, let me suggest that you make babka.
For the uninitiated, babka is a brioche dough (yeast dough enriched with butter), spread with a sweet filling, rolled up and then baked in a loaf pan. Many consider chocolate to be the ultimate babka. In fact, if you were even to suggest a cinnamon babka to these chocolate lovers, they’d likely gasp and and utter, “another babka“? They theorize that a cinnamon babka is a “lesser babka”.
My daughter was visiting this weekend and she wanted to help me with my next post. As we considered what to blog about, my suggestion of blood orange curd filled donuts, eclairs or tart were met with a less than enthusiastic ” oh, that’s interesting.” When I showed her the photo of Chocolate Krantz cake (aka Babka) in Yotam Ottolenghi’s book Jerusalem, she got quite excited. She is enthusiastically in the chocolate camp, while my husband has both feet firmly planted in the cinnamon camp. Luckily, this recipe makes two babkas. And so Battle Babka was on.The dough for babka can not be rushed. It requires an overnight rest in the fridge. Then, divide it in half and roll out the first half into an 11 x 15 inch rectangle.For the chocolate babka, we were inspired by an Almond Joy chocolate bar. After spreading on the chocolate paste, we added chopped toasted almonds and unsweetened coconut. Here’s where babka baking becomes fun. Roll up the dough into a tight roulade.Place roll on a parchment lined baking sheet and freeze for about 15 minutes, to firm up the dough. Once the dough has firmed up, it’s time to cut it in half, length-wise. A serrated knife makes easy work of this.Look at those gorgeous striations. To assemble, the two halves need to be twisted back together again .We repeated the process all over again, to make the cinnamon babka. Brush dough with butter this time, instead of chocolate.A thick layer of brown sugar and cinnamon go down next.Toasted pecans and dried cherries complete this version.The babkas are placed in loaf pans and allowed to rise for about 90 minutes. Because of all the butter in the dough, they only grow by about 15%.Once baked, they get doused with a brushing of simple syrup. This keeps the babkas super moist.After a tortuous cooling period, (with my husband calling from upstairs, every 10 minutes, “Is it time yet?“, we sliced into them and tasted. One vote for chocolate from my daughter, one vote for cinnamon, from my husband. The deciding vote was up to me. I declare that Cinnamon babka is most decidedly not a lesser babka. The tart dried cherries, combined with the crunchy pecans won me over. But don’t let me influence you. Decide for yourself. We discovered that babka tastes even better the second day. Sort of like stew, it needs time for all the flavours to develop. We loved it with a latte for breakfast.It was still stellar late that afternoon with a glass of milk.Not surprisingly, it disappeared quite quickly.
