The Power of Challah and Community

Derbyshire may now boast a thriving Jewish community thanks to the dedication of a few passionate individuals—but we still lack many of the essentials found in larger towns. At the heart of any Jewish community are its shops: the butchers, the bakeries, the grocery stores. While much can be ordered online (the Manchester kosher deli delivers to Chesterfield once a month), there’s one thing we’re sorely missing: bread. Not just any bread—challah. That soft, golden, slightly sweet loaf that’s essential to Friday night Shabbat... and, well, let’s be honest—life!

So, I’ve learned to bake my own. Over time, I’ve become confident enough to whip up loaves whenever the craving hits—even midweek, after a long day at work. You’d think tiredness would prevail, but honestly, it’s fun and satisfying.

Not long ago, a few members of our community group were sharing their challah struggles: loaves that didn’t rise, dough that turned out tough. I offered, “Come to mine—we’ll bake together. I’ve got a double oven. I’ll happily show you how.” Several enthusiastic replies of “me too,” “can I come?” and “count us in!” later... an idea was born: what if I ran a class?

But how? Where?

Fast forward a few weeks and we’d hired the fantastic Grassmoor Community Centre with its commercial-grade kitchen. A huge order of ingredients was placed. I baked all the tea-break goodies, made endless lists, and had a trial run with the ovens. Jo kindly weighed and measured ingredients in advance, and soon everything was ready.

On the day, we arrived early, set up all the stations, and waited for our friends. My only prayer for the day was simple: that no one (including me!) would cry, and everyone would leave with a decent loaf. I'm thrilled to report—mission accomplished!

We had nine bakers, plus four more who joined us just for coffee and cake. Eve, ever the font of knowledge, gave a wonderful talk on the history of challah. We had a quiz, guitar playing, singing, laughter, and more than a few wonderfully chaotic conversations.

This is the power of challah—and the power of community. And for one joyful afternoon in Grassmoor, we brought them together.