How the Jewish Center of Alaska became a part-time kosher bakery

If you want to get a sense of how much challah Esty Greenberg has made over the years, look no further than her 27-year-old KitchenAid stand mixer.

Or rather, listen to it.

Instead of the mechanical purr so many home bakers know well, the 5-quart mixer has more of a metallic groan. The machine's engine components have worn over the years, Greenberg said, the result of almost two decades of mixing weekly batches of challah bread.

"Ask anyone and they'll tell you can't squish (12 to 13 cups of flour) into a KitchenAid bowl," she said. "But you can if you hold it."

Now, Greenberg has an industrial machine that helps her mix the 100 or so loaves she bakes every week in the commercial kitchen at Midtown's Lubavitch Jewish Center of Alaska. And for the last few months, people have been able to order and buy the bread ahead of their Shabbat meals.

Two loaves of fresh challah, a braided, yeasty dough that's often slightly sweet and chewy, are a crucial part of Shabbat dinner. The loaves represent a double portion of manna that fell from the heavens as the Israelites wandered in the desert.

Greenberg has been making the bread since she moved to Alaska in 1991. She would bake the breaded loaves for families' weekly Shabbat celebrations, and in the process her home kitchen became the "de facto" kosher kitchen in town.

Greenberg decided to start selling challah en mass after her daughter, Rivky, began selling the bread as a bat mitzvah project. Greenberg realized there was more interest in the community than she'd thought, and figured it would be a good way to give back. By then, the Jewish center in Anchorage had grown to include a small commercial kitchen, making it easier to bake large quantities of loaves.

Other Anchorage bakeries, including L'Aroma and Fire Island Rustic Bakeshop, also make challah, but Greenberg's is still one of the few kosher versions. The Lubavitch Jewish Center of Alaska takes preorders for the loaves, baking them every Thursday. A regular loaf is $5 and whole wheat is a dollar more. They come plain or topped with sesame or poppy seeds, or as rolls.

The challah will be paused for the most of the month of April, as the Jewish center prepares to celebrate Passover. No leavened bread is eaten during the eight-day celebration. Passover starts April 10, but the kitchen undergoes an intense, two-week cleaning to remove any leaven from the area. Orders resume on April 24.

Greenberg brought in Yossi Assis, a chef from Israel who moved to Alaska 11 years ago to be with family, to help prepare the challah. Assis used to work as a chef in a kibbutz in Israel's Golan Heights, a communal living community where everyone contributes. He would cook elaborate meals for members of his community, but he never made challah.

"We go buy it," he said as he rolled out loaves of challah last week. "The price is not too expensive."

But Assis is skilled when it comes to shaping the dough. Instead of rolling out three strands of dough and braiding them into a plait, he rolls out one long strip of dough, then swiftly wraps it into a twisted loaf.

He said it's a skill he learned as a potter, not as a chef.

Greenberg said new techniques for shaping the dough are some of the little things she's discovered during the process of selling the loaves. She's also learned small differences, like how bread made in the commercial mixer creates a lighter dough than her trusty KitchenAid mixer. Some people like their challah crusty, others like it doughy.

"I never believed there was so much debate," she said.

Even after almost 30 years of baking the bread, she's still learning new ways to make challah.