There I was last week, standing on the rooftop of the AISH Institute for Women’s Education, flour dusting my blue apron, watching dozens of young women with their hands kneading dough. The Jerusalem skyline stretched out behind us like God’s own backdrop for our first-ever challah bake at the new seminary in the heart of the city — an event I’ve dreamed of hosting for so many years.
I’ve often held these events in other locations — what I call my “ABCs of Challah Bakes” tour, from Amsterdam, to Brooklyn, to Cape Town, and everywhere in between.
I’ve literally been flown around the world to knead dough with Jewish women. Sounds crazy, right? But there’s something magical about hosting this on the rooftop of our newly inaugurated seminary with young women who have come from all over the world to study Jewish wisdom together.
Through this Challah bake, we joined tens of thousands of women who were participating in similar events in stadiums, synagogues, and community centers worldwide, each of us elbow-deep in flour. We shared something monumental that brought us together in a way that was both moving and invigorating. The Shabbos Project figured this magic out 12 years ago, and honestly, they struck gold.
Want to know the real secret to challah bakes? They’re the Jewish equivalent of a universal welcome mat. I’ve seen women show up who haven’t set foot in a synagogue in decades or ever. Women who don’t fast on Yom Kippur or attend a Passover seder. Women who would typically run from anything remotely religious. Yet somehow, they come out of the woodwork for challah bakes. It’s mind-blowing! Maybe it’s the smell of fresh bread, maybe it’s the laughter and camaraderie, maybe it’s just the promise of those sweet and sumptuous carbs for the special day of Shabbos, but they come, and that’s what matters.
Since October 7, these events have gained even more momentum. For two years, our hearts broke daily thinking about what’s been happening in Israel and what was transpiring for the hostages in Gaza. I believe it is because of the search for connection that many Jews felt after October 7th, that these challah bake gatherings have morphed into something even more powerful.
Women who felt disconnected were suddenly craving community. The simple act of kneading dough has become this beautiful act of resilience. We’re literally taking flour and water, and a few more basic ingredients, and creating something nourishing when so much around us feels impossibly out of control.
I’ve always been a believer in the spiritual side of challah baking — just ask my family. I’ve been preaching about it for years. But then came Ori Megidish’s story. Her mother baked challah and made a special blessing for her daughter’s safe return on October 27, 2023, while Ori was held hostage by Hamas, praying with every fold of her dough for her daughter’s safe return. Three days later, Ori became the first hostage rescued by the IDF. Social media went wild connecting the dots. It made challah bakes look pretty powerful, and women noticed.
This isn’t superstition, mysticism, or folklore; Jewish tradition actually teaches that the moment when we separate a small piece from our dough is an incredibly auspicious time for prayer. Standing there with dough on your hands, preparing food that will nourish people you love and separating a small piece in compliance with Jewish law, our sages teach, is precisely the moment when heaven’s paying extra close attention to our prayers.
At our rooftop event, we aimed those prayers toward healing, physical, mental, and spiritual, for everyone touched by this horrific conflict in addition to very personal, heartfelt prayers and blessings for two new brides in the group. There were belly laughs and quiet tears, sometimes from the same person within minutes.
These gatherings work because you walk away with something real, actual bread that fills your home with that Friday afternoon (aka “erev shabbos”) smell that takes you right back to your bubby’s kitchen. But you also leave with something you can’t Instagram: new friends, renewed purpose, and this crazy warm feeling that you’re part of something bigger than yourself.
That’s why I’ll keep doing these as long as I possibly can. Like I’ve witnessed at the Suzana and Ivan Kaufman AISH Institute for Women’s Education, I’ve watched shy women who came once reluctantly then return year after year with friends in tow. I’ve seen friendships form across decades and continents.
I’ve witnessed the power of flour and water to heal wounds you can’t see, and in a world desperate for healing, there’s something revolutionary about women performing this ancient ritual together. The challah feeds our bodies; the community and spirituality of the moment feed our souls. As we shape our dough, we’re reshaping our world, one prayer, one loaf, and one gathering at a time.
And who knows? With enough flour, faith, and friendship, we might just heal all that divides us.
Random stuff I find interesting and you may not.
