Cinnamon Babka Recipe for Pure Holiday Bliss

Whenever it comes time for the annual Plum Deluxe holiday bread, an amused grin appears on my face, for I never know whether my baking efforts are going to be a colossal flop or stunning success. I began this year’s cinnamon babka recipe adventure with high hopes for success.
Cinnamon babka is a sweet bread that is braided or twisted to reveal layers of chocolate or buttery cinnamon sugar. Of Ashkenazi Jewish origin, it is a scrumptious addition to any holiday table.

My past holiday bread efforts have never failed to be delicious, thank goodness, but as far as looks go, they’ve occasionally left something to be desired. Like the Russian Krendl, which rose so prodigiously that it spilled all over the pan and into the oven, emerging a flat pancake rather than the beautifully formed pretzel shape it started out as. Or the infamous Chocolate Yule Log, which still has me shaking my head with laughter at the outrageous comedy of errors that ensued. Thankfully, the Cardamom Bread was beautiful to behold with its lovely braided form and perfectly golden crust.
Back to the cinnamon babka recipe.
All was going swimmingly until I discovered that the multiple bags of flour I had on hand were whole wheat instead of white. Humph. Not one to do the sensible thing and dash to town for white flour, I decided to give the whole wheat flour its time in the spotlight.
Thankfully, it proved to be a fortuitous decision. Not only did the dough rise beautifully the first time, but -- much to my astonishment -- the second time, too. The filling came together splendidly, smooth and dark and fragrant. The walnuts remained on the chopping board while I chopped them and I did not spill the streusel-like topping whilst I vigorously worked in the butter to attain the perfect crumbliness.

I did not tear the dough while rolling it up, and the roll did not fall apart when I carefully sliced it length-wise to achieve pieces for braiding. The braid did not come undone when I shaped it, and the loaf did not topple onto the floor when I lifted it into the bread pan.
My eyebrows shot up farther and farther in astonished delight as each step of the baking process went exactly the way it was supposed to.
When I finally slid the perfectly risen loaf into the oven, pre-heated to the correct temperature, I waited on tenterhooks to see what would happen. Would it stay risen, or collapse in the middle? Would the top burn or attain a lovely golden crust? Would it be cooked properly inside, or emerge gooey and underdone?
I opened the oven door annnnnnd...
it was wonderful, and almost perfect. One side had slid down over the lip of the pan, but it was nothing a swift trim with a sharp knife couldn’t fix. I was delighted. I removed the loaf from the oven, cooked through, golden brown, and smelling of cinnamon heaven. I let it cool on the counter before realizing that the sun was almost down and I wouldn’t have a chance for pictures if I didn’t hustle.

So, with my amused hubby scurrying out of the way, I dashed outside balancing babka and teacup and teapot and camera to catch the last few minutes of daylight. Finishing up as the sun disappeared, I finally sat down with a warm slice of cinnamon babka and a cup of Brunch in Paris chocolate orange tea. Bliss.
For pure cinnamon babka bliss of your own, try brewing a pot of one of our delicious holiday tea blends like Spicy Caramel Apple Cinnamon herbal tea, Gingerbread Chai, or Chocolate Rosemary Caramel herbal tea.