I’ve started to notice that people who are into cholent are really into cholent. They usually have a recipe that they love, having worked on it for years to perfect it. But they are often still on a quest for the ultimate recipe, checking with other cholent-makers to see if they have any tricks or ideas.
For those of you who don’t know what cholent is, the best way I can describe it is to say that it is a stew. It usually contains some form of meat, vegetables, beans, barley or other grains and plenty of liquid (at least, in my opinion, the good ones). If you are a religious Jew, there are restrictions that you must follow concerning cooking on the Sabbath. To work within the rules, and still have a hot meal after Shul on Saturday afternoons, somebody in Eastern Europe came up with the concept of cholent (there are Sephardi versions as well – but I’m Ashkenazi through and through, so I’m starting with this one).
The idea is that you put all sort of ingredients into a dutch-0ven (or slow cooker these days) and pop it into a low oven (225 degrees) before Shabbat starts on Friday afternoon. When you arrive home from synagogue on a cold Shabbat afternoon, you have a steamy, hardy and filling dish waiting for you. Back in the day, a pot of cholent was put together and taken to the baker’s oven for cooking. After services on Saturday, the men would pick it up on the way home. The electric or gas ovens and slow-cookers we have in our homes now make it a much easier process.
Now, I have no cholent traditions. I’ve had it on rare occasions when it has been prepared by others – but it’s not something we ever did in my family. Recently (maybe because the weather has turned cool) I’ve been thinking about cholent – a lot. I’ve been asking people what they put in theirs and how they like it. I’ve also had others ask me. With all this talking and thinking about it, I figured it was time to give it a go. So I put one on a couple of weeks ago – just before I sat down to dinner on Friday night, I slid my creation into the oven, set it at 225 degrees and let it cook for 18 hours. Blech. It was… edible. I had to try again – and this weekend was the time to do it.
Beef Cholent – the Recipe:
- 2 large carrots, cut into 4-5 large chunks
- 1 large onion, roughly chopped
- 4 medium potatoes, cut in 1/4’s (I used Russets here – but didn’t like them, they turned gummy. Use Red’s in the future)
- 1 1/2 cups dried beans, soaked overnight, drained and rinsed
- 1 cup pearl barley
- 2 lbs. beef (use a combo of stewing beef, short ribs, chuck steak, whatever you like)
- 2 bay leaves
- 3 Tbsp. tomato paste
- 2 Tbsp. brown sugar
- 2 tsp. kosher salt
- 1/2 tsp. black pepper
- 2 tsp. chili powder
- 4-6 large garlic cloves, crushed/chopped
- 1 cup red wine
- 8 cups veg/beef/chicken broth (or half broth/half water)
And that’s it. Layer the vegetables on the bottom, then the beans and barley, then the meat. Mix all the spices, tomato paste and sugar with the wine and pour it into the pot with the broth/water. Cover and cook for about 18 hours!






And finally, a bowl:

Now, I like the cholent a little loose. This produces a cholent with a lot of gravy, which is good for challah dipping.
Over the next few weeks I’ll be working on chicken and lamb versions. Any suggestions? Have you ever made cholent with rice? Is it possible?
Let me leave you with one last thought/question. Why is the ‘ch’ in cholent pronounced like Charles and chocolate and not like challah??? I know Hebrew doesn’t have a ‘ch’ sound like chocolate and that cholent is Yiddish – but it just doesn’t make sense to me.

It’s rainy and cold where I am right now. That cholent sounds like it’d hit the spot!!
I don’t know if it would compare to some of the food you’ve enjoyed (I’ve checked into your blog from time to time
), but you’re right. Rainy (or snowy) and cold – it does hit the spot!
I loved the post. I personally don’t like chulent that much (or at all), but it made me think of how we always want random things. I am in Israel, and on Friday, for Shabbat dinner, we had some good-ole southern Chili (we’re originally from Texas). I was just thinking that when we were in Texas, we would have some good-ole ashkenazi chulent. HAHA. Awesome post.
That is the way it works, isn’t it. Why would you have cholent in Israel and chili in Texas?
I think my memories of Cholent in Israel may be better than the actual cholent was. The beef cholent was good, but this weekends attempt at a chicken cholent was terrible. Maybe I should stick with chili!
Glad you enjoyed the post. Lahitraot!
As opposed to you, my memories of chili in Texas are great, but the chili my mom made this weekend was great too (but a bit more kosher…) I’m not crazy about Chulent, but the one Thanksgiving that I was not in Houston, instead of turkey they had chulent! Go them. Haha.
I do enjoy your blog, and I’ve already shown it to my mom. She has a cooking blog of sorts, but it’t only in Hebrew at the moment. If you can read Hebrew, feel free to click on it. http://www.tapuz.co.il/blog/userBlog.asp?FolderName=potluck
It started out as a blog for school (when she was getting her masters) and she has decided to revive it. We’ll be doing it English soon, too.
If you’d like some updates about things going on in Israel, not all negative, feel free to visit my blog.
Lehit!
Cholent’s pronounced the way it is because it hearkens from French — a concatenation of “chaud” (hot) and “lent” (slow) that found its way into Yiddish as Jews migrated from western to eastern Europe.
Enjoying the blog — glad to find another kosher Ruhlman fan!
Actually, Israelis pronounce is CHOONT.
jabbett – You put that more succinctly than any of the things I’ve read about cholent. Thanks. (Though chaud sounds more like show than cho, it makes sense)
Ruhlman truly is wonderful.
talktalk – What’s Hamim? Any old cholent or more specifically Sephardi? (I checked out Mom’s blog. Let me know when it’s in English – my Hebrew isn’t what it used to be!)
Chamin is chulent. same thing. when the blog is out in english we’ll let you know. thanks!
texas cholent? never heard of it, but pls send me a recipe. Todarabah!