January 2018. The cold is ferocious this year — the kind of cold that makes the windows fog and the pipes groan and the kitchen the warmest room in the house, which it always is, but in January the warmth feels like a moral argument: come here, the kitchen says. Come where the soup is. Come where the stove holds heat and the bread is rising and the woman at the counter is making something that will make the cold bearable. I accept the argument. I am always in the kitchen. The kitchen is where I live. The rest of the house is where I sleep and read and exist. The kitchen is where I live.
I made cholent this week — the slow-cooked Shabbat stew, the one that goes into the oven Friday afternoon and emerges Saturday afternoon heavy and dark and almost impossibly rich, the stew of a people who needed food that cooked itself while they observed the Sabbath. Cholent is genius. Cholent is the answer to the question: how do you eat a hot meal on a day when you cannot light a fire? You light the fire before the prohibition begins, and the food cooks in your absence, and when you return, it is done. This is not cooking. This is faith made edible.
I have been writing longer posts on the blog. The retirement from teaching is still years away, but the writing is asserting itself, demanding more space, more words, more room to breathe. The posts that started as recipe-with-memory have evolved into something closer to essays — structured, layered, built around a central idea the way a good lesson plan is built around a central question. I am teaching through the blog. The students are different — they are women in their fifties and sixties, mostly, who find me through the recipes and stay for the stories — but the teaching is the same: pay attention. Look closely. The food is not just food. The soup is not just soup. Everything means something. Your job is to figure out what.
A quiet week at school. The juniors are reading Beloved, which is the most difficult and most rewarding book on my syllabus, and the classroom is hushed with the particular silence that comes when students are reading something that changes them. I love this silence. I live for this silence. The silence is the teaching working.
Marvin and I had Shabbat dinner alone on Friday. Cholent, challah, candles. The table for two. His hand reaching across the table to break the challah with me. The breaking is the blessing. The blessing is the bread. The bread is the love. January continues. The cold holds. The kitchen is warm.
That Friday night — the cholent in the oven, the candles lit, Marvin’s hand reaching across the table — it was the bread that held the evening together. The breaking and the sharing. I’ve been making this rosemary olive oil bread in the crock pot for weeks now, and it suits January perfectly: you mix it, you shape it, you set it in the slow cooker, and then you wait. The kitchen does the rest. Like cholent, it is patience made edible. Like challah, it is bread meant to be broken with someone you love.
Rosemary Olive Oil Crock Pot Bread
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours | Total Time: 3 hours 15 minutes (includes rising) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 packet (2 1/4 teaspoons) instant yeast
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
- 2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, finely chopped
- 1 cup warm water (about 110°F)
- 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing
- Flaky sea salt, for topping
- Fresh rosemary sprigs, for topping
Instructions
- Mix the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, yeast, salt, sugar, and chopped rosemary. Add the warm water and olive oil. Stir with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 5–6 minutes until smooth and elastic.
- Let it rise. Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot for about 1 hour, or until doubled in size.
- Prepare the crock pot. Line the bottom and sides of a 6-quart slow cooker with parchment paper. Brush the parchment lightly with olive oil.
- Shape the loaf. Punch down the dough and shape it into a round boule. Place it seam-side down in the prepared slow cooker. Brush the top with olive oil and press a few rosemary sprigs gently into the surface. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt.
- Slow cook. Cover the slow cooker with the lid and cook on high for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, until the bread is set, the top is firm, and an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center reads 190°F.
- Optional: broil for color. For a golden crust, transfer the bread to a baking sheet and broil for 2–3 minutes, watching carefully, until the top is golden brown.
- Cool and serve. Remove the bread from the slow cooker using the parchment paper. Let cool on a wire rack for at least 15 minutes before slicing. Serve warm with good olive oil for dipping.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 480mg