For many Jewish families, challah is more than bread. It’s memory. It’s mitzvah. It’s the joy of sharing something handmade and holy. And at Rosh Hashanah — when the braided loaf becomes round and the dough leans sweet with honey, raisins or even babka toppings — challah becomes a ritual of renewal.
In St. Louis, that transformation is happening all over the Jewish community, from home kitchens in University City to workshops in Chesterfield to pop-ups and bakers offering custom orders. We spoke with a mix of people — educators, professionals and those who simply love to knead — to see what challah means in this moment and why so many keep coming back to it.
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“The taste of the past is always the most delicious” — Mimi David
Mimi David, an educator and longtime challah workshop leader, grew up in New York where bakery challah reigned supreme. But for her, the meaning wasn’t in the recipe — it was in the ritual.
“There is nothing like the taste of challah to feel the joy of Shabbos and Yom Tov,” she says. “And there is nothing like warm, homemade challah when you’re feeding Shabbos dinner to a house full of family and friends.”
For Rosh Hashanah, David’s table is crowned with sweet, round challahs — some topped with crumb, others filled with cinnamon swirls. “They should really be served as dessert,” she laughs. But it’s not just about the flavor.
“The round challah symbolizes the cycle of life and also represents a crown, as this is the time of year we declare G-d as our King.”
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Teaching others to bake, she says, has shown her how universal this act is. She’s seen women in their eighties bake for the first time. She’s welcomed teens and mothers and daughters, all connecting over dough.
“The taste of the past is always the most delicious,” she says. “And it is the traditions that we keep in our home that will be passed down to the next generation.”
Challah as a love language: Alana Minoff
Alana Minoff, who runs Just Like Mom’s Bakery, sees challah as a connector across generations and observance levels.
“Making challah and sharing it with others during our meals is almost a love language,” she says. “A beautiful meal surrounded by people you love with beautiful challah in the middle of the table — that’s Judaism in action.”
She remembers baking with her mother as a preschooler, feeling pride in shaping something for Shabbat. Now, she teaches workshops through Jewish Student Union and other local programs and sees challah as an easy entry point for younger or less-affiliated Jews.
“It has so much meaning and tradition behind it,” she says, “and this allows the teacher to show why this mitzvah is so special.”
More than flour and water: Giti Fredman
Giti Fredman is the owner of JustBakeIt, a challah workshop business that brings hands-on Jewish learning into kitchens and classrooms. This spring, she expanded her baking repertoire with the opening of Bagels and Bliss, a pop-up concept in U. City combining fresh bagels and community connection.
To Fredman, challah isn’t just food — it’s “embodied Judaism.” She has taught countless workshops across St. Louis, gathering women of all backgrounds around bowls of dough and sharing stories, prayers and laughter.
“Every woman brings something different to the table,” Fredman said in a previous interview with the Jewish Light. “There’s something transformative about this mitzvah.”
Fredman believes baking challah creates a rare space for reflection and intention. “You’re doing something physical and holy at the same time,” she says. “It connects you to your mother and your bubbe and your great-grandmother — women who did this same act with the same intentions.”
For Lauren Abraham, challah was always more than food — it was her mother’s gift.
Every Thursday night, her mom would prep the dough in a bread machine, carefully nestling the yeast in a well of flour. The loaves would proof in the powder room, then bake Friday morning — always golden, always shared. “When my mom came to visit me in college, she packed challah in her suitcase,” says Abraham. “She made sure there was enough for everyone.”
Even after her passing, the loaves live on. Abraham now uses the same bread machine and adds her own creative flair — from za’atar-stuffed rounds to pumpkin-spiced braids.
“My challah is my gift to others,” she says. “I would never accept a fee. It’s not a job — it comes from my heart and soul. People need it in times of loss and in times of joy.”
As the director of the Student to Student program at the Newmark Institute, Abraham brings challah into classrooms across St. Louis. “Sometimes it’s store bought, but if I can bring the real thing, the students and teachers taste the beauty of our tradition.”
“It’s just bread. But it isn’t”: Miriam Schwab
Miriam Schwab didn’t always love baking challah. As a kid, it was something her mom did with them weekly. But as an adult, returning to that same recipe sparked something deeper.
“When I became observant, it was the only one I knew. I made it, and it tasted exactly the same,” she says.
Now, she bakes often, running a small business called Sprinkles by Miriam. She prays when she separates the dough — lately for the hostages in Gaza — and finds meaning even in the mishaps.
Once, in a tiny kitchen, she set a tray of rising dough on a stool — then forgot and sat on it. “People used to joke that’s why it was so good,” she laughs.
“I bake alone,” she adds, “but challah still brings connection — to tradition, and to something bigger.”
A round challah, a fresh start: Chanala Rubenfeld
“There’s this newness, this freshness in the air,” says Chanala Rubenfeld of Chabad of Chesterfield.
As she prepares to lead her annual Loaves of Love workshop, she sees challah as a way for Jewish women — regardless of background — to literally put their hands in tradition. Participants braid two loaves: one to keep and one to give.
“When they learn about the meaning of challah, they feel that much more connected to their Judaism,” Rubenfeld says. “It’s so much more than just bread.”
Her event on Sept. 18 promises honey cake tastings, hands-on braiding and a spiritual connection to the women who came before.
A circle that keeps turning
For many St. Louisans, challah isn’t just something you eat. It’s something you pass on. Something you shape with your hands. Something round and sweet enough to carry hopes into the new year.
Where to taste or make your own
Looking to bring challah into your home this High Holiday season? Here are a few places to start:
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Loaves of Love with Chanala Rubenfeld
Sept. 18, 7 p.m., Chesterfield
RSVP: jewishchesterfield.com/challah -
Sprinkles by Miriam (Miriam Schwab)
1.5 lb round challahs: $12
Flavors: raisin, cinnamon, babka topping, chocolate chip
To order: [email protected] or 561-542-4923
Pickup: University City -
Bagels and Bliss (Giti Fredman), 8151 Delmar Blvd, St. Louis, MO 63130 offers $1.50 challah rolls, $5 plain challahs, and $10+ stuffed or specialty challahs. Preorders and private challah experiences (in-store or offsite) are available by calling 314-435-6244.
