Jabba the Challah?

Friends or Relatives?


Well...adventures in bread baking continue.

After baking three loaves of Crusty French Bread, I got pretty sick of it.
So, I decided to take on a braided loaf.

I poked through some recipes and came upon Challah.
The name by itself looks pretty.
I'd had Challah a few times at several Jewish friend's celebrations and as French Toast at a few upscale brunch spots.
But, never straight from the oven.

So off I went, mixing yeast, honey, oil, and flour...

The dough finally reached that oooey-gooey consistency that let's ya know it's good to go.
And, into the oven it went.

It rose, as planned, and I kneaded it down and split it into three pieces.
Attached them all at one end, and braided it.

I let the loaf rise for a final time, and, when I returned...

It was Jabba the Challah.

So I baked that son-of-a-bitch:

And, it didn't taste AWFUL. It was actually pretty good.

But, there's just no way to make peace with bread that's enslaved Princess Leia and kept Han Solo frozen in Carbonite, just because he owes a little cash.


I'll let you know who the next loaf resembles...