This post is part of the 2016 Virtual Pumpkin Party! Check out all the incredible pumpkin creations taking over the interwebs today right here.
I sat, half reclining, eyes glued to the livestream, one hand gripping my phone, relentlessly refreshing my Twitter feed. I felt crazed with the rush of communal experience—the entire internet converging upon itself to commentate its way through the third and final presidential debate. We were there to watch him cower in shame and suffer in the trap of his own limited, circular, hyperbolic thinking. We were there to watch her shimmy her way into even greater strength. I was Twitter drunk, giddy with the power of sharing a political experience with so many millions. Was this democracy?
That’s when it happened.
“Such a nasty woman,” he sniffled into the microphone, and the internet exploded into millions of individual sparks of indignant, feminist solidarity.
“I am SUCH a #NastyWoman” I tweeted instantaneously, without thinking, without knowing that thousands of other women were doing just the same. Within the hour, artists had made t-shirts, people cobbled together images of Janet Jackson and Hillary Clinton, and the Clinton campaign bought the domain “www.nastywomengetshitdone.com”, which redirected to www.hillaryclinton.com. Somehow, in the gurgling mess of Donald Trump’s sinking ship, women everywhere rose up, drawn together by the rallying cry of nasty.
By the next morning, I felt the whirring of a new understanding of collective feminine identity galvanizing in my brain. I began teasing apart its layers: Were we just rallying because, as Hillary zinged, “I don’t think there is a woman anywhere who doesn’t know what that feels like”, in regards to Trump’s belittling women? Or was there something in the nastiness itself that women wanted—had been waiting—to own?
Did women actually want to be called nasty?
I kept thinking about one tweet in particular, a knee-jerk response to Trump’s insult that night. Writer Marian Bull quipped, “every feminist like ‘ok but i do want my partner to tell me i’m a nasty woman in bed’”. The more I thought about it, the more I felt certain that something in all women truly wanted that dangerous, powerful, nasty part of herself to be uncovered, seen, honored. Certainly not in the vein of name-calling, and certainly not by an indignant, sniffling megalomaniac.
But owning the epithet not only drains it of its danger, but reclaims its power, transcending the insult, rising above the madonna-whore dichotomy we women face every day. A nasty woman isn’t just nasty, Donald. A nasty woman is about to become the first female president of the United States of America.
And so, when a woman with tremendous sociopolitical power, knowledge, grace, and understanding stands up to being called nasty, reminding her accuser that there isn’t a woman listening who hasn’t stood in that same line of fire, we are all free to be nasty. We are free to draw out that power in ourselves.
Nasty women also bake challah, and for today’s virtual pumpkin party, I made you a gorgeous, fluffy loaf of sage-infused pumpkin challah, stuffed with goat’s cheese. This is a gorgeous bread to serve at a holiday or family meal, or on an extra special shabbat. It would make a stellar savory french toast, too.
Many thanks to Girl Versus Dough for providing the base pumpkin challah recipe for this riff—it’s a gem.
CHALLAH IF YA NASTY!!! Happy pumpkin partying!
GOAT CHEESE & SAGE-STUFFED PUMPKIN CHALLAH
Ingredients
- 1 teaspoon package + 1 (3 ¼ teaspoons totaactive dry yeast
- 1 teaspoon granulated sugar
- ½ cup warm water
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 cup whole wheat flour
- 1 teaspoon sea salt
- 1 tablespoon minced fresh sage leaves
- 1 cup pumpkin puree
- ¼ cup honey
- ¼ cup safflower or other vegetable oil
- 1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
- ¾ cup to 1 crumbled goat cheese
- 3 tablespoons minced fresh sage leaves
- flaky sea salt to taste
- freshly cracked black pepper to taste
- 1 teaspoon egg yolk + 1 water for egg wash
Instructions
- In a small bowl, stir the yeast and sugar into the warm water. Let sit until foamy, about 10 minutes. While the yeast proofs, whisk together the flours, sea salt, and minced sage leaves in a large bowl or stand mixer.
- Once the yeast is foamy, stir in the pumpkin puree, honey, oil, and egg plus yolk. Pour into the dry mixture, and knead for seven to ten minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic. Shape into a ball and place in a well-oiled bowl, covered with plastic wrap. Let rise for 1 ½-2 hours, or until doubled in size.
- Once risen, remove the dough from the bowl and shape into a 12"-long rectangle. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper, and transfer the dough onto the baking sheet. Cut the dough into three even pieces, lengthwise, which will be your strands to braid. Roll each strand out until it’s about 1-2" thick.
- Create a trench down the middle of each strand, and fill with evenly divided amounts of goat cheese, sage leaves, and a light sprinkling of flaky sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper. Roll strands closed, lengthwise, and then pinch them together at the top and braid as usual. Tuck ends under at the bottom, and pinch strands together. Cover the braided challah with a clean, damp dishtowel, and let rise again, another 45 minutes.
- Preheat oven to 350ºIn a small bowl, mix the egg wash (1 yolk + 1 teaspoon water). Once challah is finished with its second rise, brush with the egg wash, and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until golden brown.
