Challah

There are two stories I remember my great-grandmother telling about her early childhood in Brok. The first story is about cigarettes, the second is about challah. Since we’re here to bake, let’s just say that as far as the smokes were concerned, they rewarded a good report card for grade schoolers a little differently in the old country. As for the challah, my great-grandmother fondly remembered the big one-room home her family lived in. On one side was a bed, and on the other, a great big