Babka

I’ve always been a filling lover and much less of a dough lover when it comes to sweets. So when I started making cozonaci, I knew one thing for sure: I wanted them to be loaded with filling.

But here’s the paradox. As a baker, I also want the dough to be as fluffy and tall as possible — but the fluffier the dough, the less dominant the filling becomes. So there’s always this quiet battle inside me: the part that wants as much filling as the dough can possibly hold,and the part that wants the fluffiest cozonac imaginable.

Cozonac is the recipe I’ve worked the hardest on — and the one that still keeps my adrenaline high until the moment I see them fully baked. Over the years, we’ve made thousands of them, and still, every time, I feel small and humble in front of this dough. Because I want the very best of this dessert, that perfect balance between dough and filling.

The whole process begins with feeding our sweet starter. We refresh it at least three to four times before it ever touches the dough. Then the dough is mixed, divided into portions, and left to rest in the fridge overnight.

The next day, we roll the dough, add the filling, and place the cozonaci into their trays, where they slowly ferment and rise for another night. Only on the third day do we bake them — watching through the oven glass, mesmerized by the power this dough has to rise and rise and rise.

As soon as they come out of the oven, still hot, we pour syrup over them, then let them rest yet another night to cool and settle.

This long process is worth every single minute. The result is cozonaci that are soft, fluffy, generously filled, and that stay fresh for weeks without drying out. We take great pride in them, and even though they require time, care, and resources, we are deeply grateful for the joy they bring to your tables — holiday after holiday.