Rosh Hashanah begins Sunday evening, and the house is in full preparation mode — the dining room table has been set with the good china, the challah dough is rising, the brisket has been marinating since yesterday, and I have entered the particular state of focused culinary intensity that my family recognizes as "don't talk to Mom, she's doing the holidays." There are twelve of us this year: me, Marvin, David, Jennifer, Ethan, Sophie, Noah, Rebecca, Thomas, and three friends from the synagogue whose families are elsewhere. Twelve is a manageable number. I have cooked for larger. But twelve is right. Twelve is intimate. Twelve means everyone can talk to everyone, which is the point of a holiday table — not just the food, but the conversation that happens around the food.
The round challah is braided — round for the new year, symbolizing the cycle, the continuity, the idea that time is not a line but a circle and we arrive back at the same prayers and the same table and the same hope, year after year, and the arriving is the point. I brush the challah with egg wash and sprinkle sesame seeds and put it in the oven and the house fills with the smell that is, for me, the smell of Jewishness itself: yeast and warmth and the particular alchemy of flour and water and time becoming bread.
Marvin is dressed for the holiday. I helped him with his tie — he used to tie his own tie with the practiced efficiency of a man who wore one every day for forty years, and now he holds the tie and looks at it with a kind of puzzlement, as if it's a tool he can't quite remember the purpose of. I tie it for him. I straighten his collar. I tell him he looks handsome, which he does, even now, even diminished, because handsomeness in Marvin was never about the face — it was about the precision, the care, the way he held himself. The disease has taken a lot. It has not taken that.
Not everyone has the time or the muscle memory for a braided challah — but the need for that smell, bread rising and browning in a warm oven while the table is being set and the family is gathering, is universal. This one-dish no-knead bread has become my answer for the moments when the holiday spirit is willing but the schedule is not: you make it the night before, you let time do the work that your hands would otherwise do, and when it comes out of the oven it fills the house with exactly the warmth that a holiday is supposed to feel like. It won’t replace the round challah — nothing does — but it belongs on the same table, in the same spirit.
One-Dish No-Knead Bread
Prep Time: 10 minutes + 12–18 hours rising | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: ~13 hours | Servings: 12 slices
Ingredients
- 3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for shaping
- 1/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
- 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
- 1 1/2 cups warm water (about 110°F)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil (for the pan)
Instructions
- Mix the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, yeast, and salt. Add the warm water and stir with a wooden spoon until a shaggy, sticky dough forms — about 1 minute. There is no kneading. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap.
- Let it rise. Leave the dough at room temperature for 12 to 18 hours (overnight works perfectly). The dough is ready when it has roughly doubled in size and the surface is dotted with bubbles.
- Shape the loaf. Lightly flour a work surface and turn the dough out onto it. With floured hands, fold the dough over itself two or three times, then shape it into a round ball. Let it rest uncovered for 15 minutes.
- Preheat the oven. Place a 4- to 5-quart heavy oven-safe pot (cast iron or Dutch oven) with its lid in the oven and preheat to 450°F for at least 30 minutes.
- Second rise. While the oven heats, place the shaped dough seam-side down on a sheet of parchment paper, cover loosely with a clean towel, and let rest another 30 minutes.
- Bake covered. Carefully remove the hot pot from the oven. Using the parchment as a sling, lower the dough into the pot. Cover with the lid and bake for 30 minutes.
- Bake uncovered. Remove the lid and continue baking for 13 to 15 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown. The interior should sound hollow when tapped.
- Cool before slicing. Transfer the loaf to a wire rack and let it cool for at least 20 minutes before cutting — this allows the crumb to set and makes for a cleaner, more satisfying slice.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 120 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 1g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 290mg