Honey Challah — Baked for the Night the Morels Came Home

April 2036. The morel season ran its course and I went out with Kai and River on the best morning of it, the three of us in the creek bottom on a Saturday when conditions were optimal. Tommy was at home with Sarah. The three of us had a rhythm in the woods by this point—we spread out to cover more ground, we communicated by sound when someone found a cluster, we moved with the particular quiet that the search requires. Nobody talked more than necessary. The woods don't reward talkers.

Kai found a cluster of fourteen under a dead elm that had come down over the winter—the freshly fallen timber creates a specific microclimate that the morels love, and he'd been watching that elm since it fell. He noted it with the specific pleasure of someone whose predictive model had been confirmed. I found eleven in two groups. River found twenty-one, which was the most any of us had found in a single morning in years, and he told us the number with the restraint of someone who understood that restraint was appropriate but also wasn't going to pretend the count hadn't happened.

Cooked them the traditional way that evening: butter and salt, in the cast iron, standing together at the stove because the kitchen was the right place. Tommy was awake and was held by each of us in rotation and on each rotation he leaned toward the pan with unmistakable interest in whatever was happening there. Three generations at a stove in a kitchen on a piece of land that was built for exactly this. I felt it completely.

That evening already had everything it needed — the morels in butter, the cast iron, Tommy leaning toward the pan — but a meal like that deserves a bread that can hold its own on the table, something you tear by hand and pass around without ceremony. This honey challah is what I make when the occasion is quiet and significant at the same time: the braided loaf takes patience, the honey keeps it just barely sweet, and there’s enough of it to feed a kitchen full of people who earned their seats.

Honey Challah

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 3 hrs 5 min (includes rise time) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

• 2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (1 packet)
• 1 cup warm water (about 110°F)
• 1/3 cup honey, plus 1 tbsp for egg wash
• 1/3 cup vegetable oil
• 3 large eggs (2 for dough, 1 for egg wash)
• 1 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading
• 1 tbsp water (for egg wash)
• 1 tbsp sesame seeds or poppy seeds (optional)

Instructions

1. Activate the yeast. In a large bowl, combine warm water, honey, and yeast. Stir gently and let sit for 5–10 minutes until foamy.
2. Mix the dough. Add oil, 2 eggs, and salt to the yeast mixture. Whisk to combine. Add flour one cup at a time, stirring until a shaggy dough forms.
3. Knead. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8–10 minutes until smooth and elastic, adding flour a tablespoon at a time if the dough sticks. The dough should be slightly tacky but not sticky.
4. First rise. Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl, turn to coat, and cover with a clean towel. Let rise in a warm spot for 1 1/2 hours, or until doubled in size.
5. Divide and braid. Punch down dough and divide into 3 equal portions. Roll each into a rope about 16 inches long. Pinch the three ropes together at one end and braid loosely, then pinch and tuck the other end under. Transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet.
6. Second rise. Cover loosely and let rise for 45 minutes until noticeably puffed.
7. Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F during the last 15 minutes of the second rise.
8. Apply egg wash. Whisk together the remaining egg, 1 tbsp water, and 1 tbsp honey. Brush evenly over the braided loaf. Sprinkle with seeds if using.
9. Bake. Bake for 30–35 minutes until deep golden brown. An instant-read thermometer inserted into the center should read 190°F. Cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 265 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg