//features//
Fall 2020
Fall 2020
Monetizing Your Hobbies: A Capitalist Scheme I Can Get Behind
Gabi Finestone
I’ve been baking challah almost every Friday since my senior year of high school—over four years now. It’s a ritual that grounds me each time I do it, regardless of how busy or stressful my life seems at the moment. By now, I’ve accidentally committed a recipe to memory. Yeast, sugar, water. Eggs, oil, salt, flour. Whisk, knead, rest, braid, rest, bake. There is a rhythm, an order to baking, that has always comforted me. After years of practice, I know when the dough needs further kneading or additional flour from a simple nudge with the heel of my hand. I’ve made challah for my family’s Shabbat dinners, for friends in times of celebration and mourning, and on Friday nights with friends in my college dorm. Challah elevates every occasion.
People love challah for reasons beyond its taste. Challah conjures up memories of meals at school, synagogue, camp, or with family. My first memory of challah involves a shiny, orangy, grocery-store loaf served alongside miniature plastic cups capable of holding two sips of grape juice in shul after Friday services. My brother and I used to bound out of services into the main hall, eager to dip the pre-cut challah into the sugary grape juice. As we brought the soaking bread to our mouths, we dripped purple juice on our Shabbat clothes every time without fail. For me, challah dipped in grape juice will always be the flavor of Shabbat.
When many states went into lockdown last March, the internet exploded with quarantine content. People all over the world were TikTok-dancing, banana-bread-baking, or data-analyzing their way to comfort. Stripped of the consuming daily routines of commuting to school or work, many gained more free time than they had in years. The privilege of spare time inspired mass creativity. Throughout the lockdown, I noticed an increased visibility of hobbies: suddenly, everyone had one. Some made friendship bracelets or fed sourdough starters. Others committed to daily meditation practices, workout challenges, or origami-folding. Publications like New York Magazine and Today highlighted hobbies you could pick up to “get you through” quarantine, promising control via a creative outlet in a time of chaos.
On the flip side, some expressed that they felt pressure to use quarantine productively, when all they really felt like doing was watching TV. An April New York Times article titled “Stop Trying to be Productive” argued that, “the urge to overachieve, even in times of global crisis, is a reflection of America’s always-on work culture.” Was the new fixation on hobbies a reflection of the pressure to incessantly work? Since the hobby explosion, people have launched “covid businesses,” selling handmade masks, baked goods, homemade meals, beaded mask chains, and other 2020 essentials. Were these businesses passion projects? Or were they responses to feelings of unproductivity and therefore inadequacy?
In early May, I started selling challah and cookies every Friday to members of my community. At first, I felt a bit strange about monetizing my hobby. Baking challah was never something I did for reward--monetary or otherwise. I had always baked recreationally; I loved the ritual and reminder of tradition. Even while donating 18% of my proceeds to charity every week, I felt guilty profiting off of something that felt more like a labor of love than a product. But the more I talked to my customers, the happier I grew knowing that in a moment of uncertainty and loneliness, my product could provide people a feeling of warmth. I love seeing masked smiles as I drop off challah on a doorstep. I love answering questions and recommending my favorite toppings: chocolate chips, everything-but-the-bagel seasoning, sesame, poppyseed. I write notes by hand to go with each delivery and offer people the opportunity to send challah as a gift to others. The messages that people choose to include always bring me joy. One customer sent a note which thanked her friend for her friendship, strength, and humor. Another wanted her note to a friend to say that she was grateful for their deep friendship despite not seeing each other in person for months. If challah can bring people together in our disconnected world, I feel lucky to facilitate that connection.
Even in times of uncertainty, we find things that ground us: baking, watching sports, even staying in touch with your friends and family. These are not minor details in our lives, nor silly pastimes; they are reminders of how connected we are to the world and each other. Our interests give us a sense of purpose, maybe even in ways that we can share with others. This year, the lines of work and leisure feel increasingly blurred. Many of us now work, socialize, exercise, eat, and sleep all in the same room. But the idea of separating our passions and our work seems antiquated in a world that celebrates passion projects. When constantly feeling pushed to succeed professionally, I relish in the satisfaction from my “covid business,” built on something I love.
Challah
Ingredients:
4.5 tsp dry active yeast (or 2 yeast packets)
1/2 c sugar
1 3/4 c water (slightly warmer than lukewarm but not too hot. Too hot will kill the yeast)
1/2 cup oil
3 eggs
1 tbsp sea salt
4 cups bread flour
2 cups all purpose flour
Toppings (optional):
Crumb, sesame seeds, everything but the bagel seasoning, etc!
In a large glass or heavy metal bowl, add yeast. Cover with sugar and the very warm water, whisk, and let sit for 20 minutes. The yeast should be bubbly and frothy and smell bready after 20 minutes. If it doesn’t, your yeast is dead and you need to get new yeast!
Add in the eggs, oil, and salt, and whisk until well-combined.
Add in 2 cups bread flour and 1 cup AP flour. Mix until mostly combined with a rubber spatula so it doesn’t stick too much. Then add another 2 cups bread flour, 1 cup AP flour. Mix with spatula until firm, then start kneading with your hands.
Sprinkle countertop or workspace with a generous amount of flour. I like to put a cup of flour in a bowl so I can keep grabbing from it when I need to. Dump the dough onto the countertop and start kneading, adding flour as it gets sticky. You might need to add a bunch of flour. That’s okay. Keep working the dough until it becomes smooth and barely sticky (5-ish minutes), adding flour as you go. Once the dough is smooth and elastic, shape it into a rectangular slab. Form it into a ball by folding the top of the dough 3/4 of the length of the dough down, folding the bottom of the dough 3/4 of the length of the dough up, and tucking the sides in. This creates a “seam” to help the dough rise.
Prepare a large mixing bowl with 1/2 tbsp oil and rub the oil on the entire inside of the bowl. Place the dough ball in the bowl and cover with a damp paper towel. Let rise for two hours. If the dough is not rising well, your house is probably too cold. Turn your oven on and open it to increase the temperature of the room, or place the bowl near a heater.
After two hours, the dough will have at least doubled in size, maybe more. Take the dough out and put it on a clean counter. Divide it in half and braid it as you like. I like to weigh the entire dough ball on a food scale and make sure each braid strand weighs the same but that’s not necessary unless you want to be exact like me. Braid each half of the dough ball and place each on their own baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Allow to rise for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350° F. Prepare your toppings and an egg wash (1 egg whisked with a few tbsp water.) After the 30 minute rise, apply egg wash and optional toppings to challah.
Bake for 15 minutes, then alternate racks, and bake for another 15 minutes. After the 30 minutes, check for doneness. It is finished when the color is a deep golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. Depending on how much they rose, they could need up to 10 more minutes.
Enjoy and shabbat shalom!
//GABI FINESTONE is a senior in Barnard College. She can be reached at gmf2128@barnard.edu.
Photo by Gabi Finestone.
People love challah for reasons beyond its taste. Challah conjures up memories of meals at school, synagogue, camp, or with family. My first memory of challah involves a shiny, orangy, grocery-store loaf served alongside miniature plastic cups capable of holding two sips of grape juice in shul after Friday services. My brother and I used to bound out of services into the main hall, eager to dip the pre-cut challah into the sugary grape juice. As we brought the soaking bread to our mouths, we dripped purple juice on our Shabbat clothes every time without fail. For me, challah dipped in grape juice will always be the flavor of Shabbat.
When many states went into lockdown last March, the internet exploded with quarantine content. People all over the world were TikTok-dancing, banana-bread-baking, or data-analyzing their way to comfort. Stripped of the consuming daily routines of commuting to school or work, many gained more free time than they had in years. The privilege of spare time inspired mass creativity. Throughout the lockdown, I noticed an increased visibility of hobbies: suddenly, everyone had one. Some made friendship bracelets or fed sourdough starters. Others committed to daily meditation practices, workout challenges, or origami-folding. Publications like New York Magazine and Today highlighted hobbies you could pick up to “get you through” quarantine, promising control via a creative outlet in a time of chaos.
On the flip side, some expressed that they felt pressure to use quarantine productively, when all they really felt like doing was watching TV. An April New York Times article titled “Stop Trying to be Productive” argued that, “the urge to overachieve, even in times of global crisis, is a reflection of America’s always-on work culture.” Was the new fixation on hobbies a reflection of the pressure to incessantly work? Since the hobby explosion, people have launched “covid businesses,” selling handmade masks, baked goods, homemade meals, beaded mask chains, and other 2020 essentials. Were these businesses passion projects? Or were they responses to feelings of unproductivity and therefore inadequacy?
In early May, I started selling challah and cookies every Friday to members of my community. At first, I felt a bit strange about monetizing my hobby. Baking challah was never something I did for reward--monetary or otherwise. I had always baked recreationally; I loved the ritual and reminder of tradition. Even while donating 18% of my proceeds to charity every week, I felt guilty profiting off of something that felt more like a labor of love than a product. But the more I talked to my customers, the happier I grew knowing that in a moment of uncertainty and loneliness, my product could provide people a feeling of warmth. I love seeing masked smiles as I drop off challah on a doorstep. I love answering questions and recommending my favorite toppings: chocolate chips, everything-but-the-bagel seasoning, sesame, poppyseed. I write notes by hand to go with each delivery and offer people the opportunity to send challah as a gift to others. The messages that people choose to include always bring me joy. One customer sent a note which thanked her friend for her friendship, strength, and humor. Another wanted her note to a friend to say that she was grateful for their deep friendship despite not seeing each other in person for months. If challah can bring people together in our disconnected world, I feel lucky to facilitate that connection.
Even in times of uncertainty, we find things that ground us: baking, watching sports, even staying in touch with your friends and family. These are not minor details in our lives, nor silly pastimes; they are reminders of how connected we are to the world and each other. Our interests give us a sense of purpose, maybe even in ways that we can share with others. This year, the lines of work and leisure feel increasingly blurred. Many of us now work, socialize, exercise, eat, and sleep all in the same room. But the idea of separating our passions and our work seems antiquated in a world that celebrates passion projects. When constantly feeling pushed to succeed professionally, I relish in the satisfaction from my “covid business,” built on something I love.
Challah
Ingredients:
4.5 tsp dry active yeast (or 2 yeast packets)
1/2 c sugar
1 3/4 c water (slightly warmer than lukewarm but not too hot. Too hot will kill the yeast)
1/2 cup oil
3 eggs
1 tbsp sea salt
4 cups bread flour
2 cups all purpose flour
Toppings (optional):
Crumb, sesame seeds, everything but the bagel seasoning, etc!
In a large glass or heavy metal bowl, add yeast. Cover with sugar and the very warm water, whisk, and let sit for 20 minutes. The yeast should be bubbly and frothy and smell bready after 20 minutes. If it doesn’t, your yeast is dead and you need to get new yeast!
Add in the eggs, oil, and salt, and whisk until well-combined.
Add in 2 cups bread flour and 1 cup AP flour. Mix until mostly combined with a rubber spatula so it doesn’t stick too much. Then add another 2 cups bread flour, 1 cup AP flour. Mix with spatula until firm, then start kneading with your hands.
Sprinkle countertop or workspace with a generous amount of flour. I like to put a cup of flour in a bowl so I can keep grabbing from it when I need to. Dump the dough onto the countertop and start kneading, adding flour as it gets sticky. You might need to add a bunch of flour. That’s okay. Keep working the dough until it becomes smooth and barely sticky (5-ish minutes), adding flour as you go. Once the dough is smooth and elastic, shape it into a rectangular slab. Form it into a ball by folding the top of the dough 3/4 of the length of the dough down, folding the bottom of the dough 3/4 of the length of the dough up, and tucking the sides in. This creates a “seam” to help the dough rise.
Prepare a large mixing bowl with 1/2 tbsp oil and rub the oil on the entire inside of the bowl. Place the dough ball in the bowl and cover with a damp paper towel. Let rise for two hours. If the dough is not rising well, your house is probably too cold. Turn your oven on and open it to increase the temperature of the room, or place the bowl near a heater.
After two hours, the dough will have at least doubled in size, maybe more. Take the dough out and put it on a clean counter. Divide it in half and braid it as you like. I like to weigh the entire dough ball on a food scale and make sure each braid strand weighs the same but that’s not necessary unless you want to be exact like me. Braid each half of the dough ball and place each on their own baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Allow to rise for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350° F. Prepare your toppings and an egg wash (1 egg whisked with a few tbsp water.) After the 30 minute rise, apply egg wash and optional toppings to challah.
Bake for 15 minutes, then alternate racks, and bake for another 15 minutes. After the 30 minutes, check for doneness. It is finished when the color is a deep golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. Depending on how much they rose, they could need up to 10 more minutes.
Enjoy and shabbat shalom!
//GABI FINESTONE is a senior in Barnard College. She can be reached at gmf2128@barnard.edu.
Photo by Gabi Finestone.