The first rule of challah wars is: don’t start a challah war if you’re not prepared to learn some awful truths about the bread you hold most dear.
We have been going to Arizmendi Bakery, a wonderful and magic place, a cooperative where happy people who love to bake produce happy breads that are delicious and pizzas that are amazing, for approximately since the second it opened. Arizmendi’s ninth birthday is on October 11, which means that our daughter has been eating Arizmendi bread since she could gnaw and our son’s DNA probably has corn cherry scone crumbs in it.
I love Arizmendi. I love that every single time I swear that one of their pizza combinations could not possibly be good, it is invariably one of the best they’ve ever made (they did a thing a few years ago, with sweet potatoes? and sage? MM!). The very best foccacia I’ve had there was just a slab of bread, drizzled with olive oil, scattered with coarse salt and rosemary. Arizmendi is the reason I don’t bother making fresh bread.
I have unquestionably spent more money on Arizmendi bread in the last nine years than I have spent on things I am supposed to like more, more than purses and shoes and makeup combined. I am more likely to buy Arizmendi challah than any other challah. I’ve certainly bought at least fifty loaves, probably a lot more. And now my confession.
We critically ate Arizmendi challah last week.
SPOILER ALERT: Bay Bread challah was better.
Challah Wars 2: Arizmendi Plain
This week, I had the challah panic attack at home, at approximately 4:30 PM. I placed an emergency call to Arizmendi requesting that they hold a loaf for us, then placed an emergency Google chat to my husband imploring him to stop by on his way home and pick it up.
It’s hard for me to evaluate the looks of this bread since I think of it as what challah looks like.
Crust: The best way to describe it would be…mild? Not noticeably different-tasting from the interior.
Interior: Dry, dry, dry. More air pockets than I remember.
Fluffiness: Very. Too much.
Flakiness: None. No egg flavor, either.
Sweetness: Also none. Very flat-tasting.
Verdict: My beloved Arizmendi’s challah is a B-? It is meh? This is like critically evaluating your bubbe’s gefilte and finding it not that good, ie I am tortured with guilt and will probably go stress-eat something now.
Next week, oh, I dunno. I’m depressed. Maybe Acme challah will cheer me up?
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