Sunday, November 22, 2009

In medias babka.

Don't you find babka a wonderful word? Winsome. Adorable. And, paradoxically, Slavic, so perhaps a little brooding, melancholic, and dark?

 Like many shiksas across America, I first heard of babka on Seinfeld. Recently the idea of babka bubbled up to my consciousness, who knows why? but upon said word surfacing into full cognitive view so that all I could think about was babka, I did what all enterprising cooks do: Googled it, and came up with this recipe. It has so much butter and chocolate in it, I had to buy the butter and chocolate in two shifts. Not that I couldn't have purchased it in one. I just couldn't admit to myself that I was going to bake something with that much butter and chocolate in it. I smuggled my intentions past myself. As it were.

At the moment, the silken, buttery, eggy dough is rising. The chocolate has been finely chopped, all two and half pounds of it, and mixed with the cinnamon and sugar and extra butter. I am optimistic.

Listen, if anyone wants a piece, you just let me know. This recipe makes a lot of babka.

Babka babka babka. Chocolate babka.


  1. OK. I read the recipe. I'm game. It's only an 8 hour drive. I can be there by morning!

  2. Oh yes. Please. I'm holding my plate out - see?

  3. Where can I gets some? Need some. Chocolate and butter? What else does one need?

  4. how many loaves are you getting from that 2 1/2 lbs. of chocolate? that is a lot! but i want some. please some to ottawa.

  5. I ate said Babka (from John's office) yesterday--creamy delicious yummy. John gave me so much I shared with a student:

    "Try some."
    "No, that's ok."
    "No, really try it."
    "Ok, a little...Mmmm. Oh my god that is delicious," she said while taking up the rest of the piece.



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