Chris Caresnone recalls watching the classic “Seinfeld” episode “The Dinner Party,” where Jerry and Elaine are crestfallen after ending up with a cinnamon babka, only because the woman ahead of them in line snagged the last chocolate one.
For Caresnone, 41, the scene rings true. In his mind, there’s hardly any debate about which babka reigns supreme.
“Once in a while, you can get a different cinnamon one, but the majority of the time, chocolate is better,” Caresnone told Unpacked.
Babka itself carries deep cultural weight. The sweet, braided loaf traces its roots to Eastern European Jewish kitchens, where it was baked for Shabbat and holidays. Over the years, it migrated to American Jewish delis and bakeries, eventually becoming a staple of New York’s dessert scene. Today, babka appears in ever more creative flavors — Nutella, pistachio, even savory versions — but the chocolate versus cinnamon divide remains the most enduring rivalry.
How did Chris Caresnone become the Babka King?
Caresnone’s reputation as the “Babka King” wasn’t planned — it grew out of a happy mistake. His early food videos spotlighted treats from different cultures, and when he turned to Jewish desserts, he picked the black-and-white cookie and then rugelach. In that rugelach video, he slipped on the pronunciation, saying “roogelash.”
The internet pounced, but in a lighthearted way. Instead of shaming him, viewers leaned in, laughing along and correcting him in the comments. The mix of humor and cultural pride pushed the video into viral territory, suddenly giving him a large new audience eager to see more Jewish food content.
That’s when Half Moon Rondout Café in Kingston, New York, stepped in, sending him a loaf of babka to try on camera. The swirled bread — rich with chocolate and butter — quickly became a personal favorite. He even discovered that a quick turn in the microwave made it taste fresh from the oven, gooey and aromatic, a detail that resonated with fans following his journey from casual taste-tester to accidental babka ambassador.
Caresnone, whose original last name was Campbell, is well aware of the Liver King — the fitness influencer Brian Johnson, known for his raw-organ diet. He draws the comparison himself, noting that while both of them have carved out a niche around food, their obsessions aren’t quite the same.
He points out that liver, at least, can be eaten regularly as part of a health-conscious lifestyle. Babka, by contrast, is a rich, indulgent treat that demands moderation. Still, he can’t help but laugh at the idea of anyone preferring organ meat over a slice of swirled chocolate bread.
“I would say we’re similar in getting into people’s lives, but I’m not inside his brain, so he may like liver a little more than I like babka, because you can eat liver a little more healthily than babka,” he said. “I still have to be cautious. But at the end of the day, who’s gonna choose liver over babka, even if you love liver? Babka is one of the best bites on Earth.”
A now-iconic catchphrase
Caresnone’s most recognizable line — “Why you gatekeeping?” — was born from a word he noticed often carried a negative spin online. “Gatekeeping” usually implies that someone is deliberately keeping knowledge or access from others, and on social media, it’s often used as an accusation.
In his videos, whenever he tries a food that feels overlooked or underappreciated, he’ll turn to the camera and ask why a particular community has been “gatekeeping” it. The question isn’t meant as a real accusation — it’s an exaggerated, tongue-in-cheek way of saying the dish is too good to stay under the radar. If he’s eating a Dominican pastelito, a Greek spanakopita, or a loaf of babka, he’ll deliver the line as though he’s caught someone hiding the secret all along.
“I like to take things people think are bad and highlight them as positives,” he said. “It’s a matter of my energy. So, people who watch my videos know there’s no ill intent. But you know how social media works. I gotta hook you and get your attention. So, the formula is simple.”
The formula works because it’s clear to his audience that there’s no malice behind it. He uses the catchphrase as both a hook and a punchline, grabbing attention in the noisy scroll of social media while turning what’s usually an insult into a reason to celebrate food traditions.
How Chris Caresnone became an internet sensation
Today, Caresnone commands an audience of nearly half a million followers across platforms, including 274,000 on Instagram alone. His reach extends beyond the United States; during two recent trips to Israel, he was even recognized on the street by fans.
The Illinois native didn’t exactly set out to be “the face of Jewish food,” but looking back, he isn’t shocked that his personality found an audience. In high school, he was crowned prom king. He dabbled in sketch comedy, built a small following by talking openly about social anxiety, and always had a knack for performance. Social media, in many ways, became the stage he’d always imagined.
What did surprise him was the niche he ended up filling. His earliest viral content wasn’t Jewish at all — it began with lighthearted food experiments, like asking white people about their love of cheese and apples, or diving into Mexican cuisine. The pivot to Jewish pastries and deli staples wasn’t part of a grand plan, but the internet responded, and he followed their lead.
He had once dreamed of becoming a stand-up comic, but stage fright made the traditional route intimidating. Online video gave him the freedom to perform without the spotlight’s pressure. Now, with his growing audience, food brands regularly send him products to feature. He estimates that four or five new items land on his doorstep each week, giving him a steady stream of material and cementing his role as a social-media food personality.
“I wouldn’t say I’m surprised,” Caresnone said. “I always knew I might be on the stage. In high school, I was the prom king. I did sketch comedy and was getting some following for that, as well as talking about social anxiety. Did I especially know I would be a face of Jewish food? No, I wouldn’t have assumed that! That was a surprise, but it wasn’t a surprise that I was putting myself out there and people were getting into it.”
What did Chris Caresnone like most about Israel?
For Caresnone, visiting Israel was both exciting and affirming. He described the country as feeling familiar in some ways, yet distinct in its history and culture. Even without speaking Hebrew, he found it easy to navigate day-to-day life in English, which made the trip feel accessible rather than daunting.
“The whole place is a vibe,” he said. “It feels Americanesque to some degree. For someone who doesn’t speak Hebrew, I was able to get around on my own speaking English.”
What stood out most, though, was the recognition he received. Fans spotted him constantly, turning the trip into a real-world extension of his online community. That sense of connection made the sweltering heat easier to overlook. For him, the visit wasn’t just travel; it was proof that the joyful, food-centered content he makes resonates far beyond American borders.
“A lot of people know me out there, so it was cool to be recognized every 10 minutes,” Caresnone said. Other than it being 109 degrees, it was a great experience.”
The biggest surprise from kosher cuisine
It comes as little shock that Caresnone isn’t wild about gefilte fish — bland, jarred fish patties have never been a universal crowd-pleaser — or that he, as a food content creator, naturally gravitates toward foods with more spice and kick. What did catch him off guard, though, was how flavorful and diverse Sephardic cuisine turned out to be.
“How delicious Sephardic food is was a surprise,” he explained. “The whole falafel, shawarma, tahini vibe” was a revelation.
Accustomed to the heavier Ashkenazi staples he’d encountered before, he found Sephardic food to be lighter, fresher, and layered with influences from across the Mediterranean and Middle East. Eating in Israel drove the point home: the produce tasted brighter, the flavors sharper, and even after indulgent meals, he noticed he felt less bloated than expected.
“Sephardic food is ridiculous because you’ve got a sprinkling of everything,” Caresnone explained.
Back in New York, he also picked up a taste for cholent, a slow-cooked Shabbat stew, after trying it at The House of Glatt in Crown Heights. And one of his most unexpected favorites? A kosher “bacon cheeseburger,” where the bacon was cured beef and the cheese was vegan. He swears it could fool almost anyone.
Through his explorations, Caresnone has been invited to countless Shabbat dinners, where he’s been warmly embraced by Jewish families. One milestone still eludes him, though: an invitation to a Jewish wedding.
The feedback has been great — other than a stupid conspiracy theory
For the most part, Caresnone’s foray into Jewish food content has been met with warmth and gratitude. During trips to Israel, he’s been welcomed to Shabbat dinners, and online, he often hears from Jewish fans who say his upbeat videos have lifted their spirits at a time when positive representation feels scarce.
The response hasn’t been entirely without friction. In an earlier interview with Fox News, he acknowledged receiving death threats simply for talking about babka. But in speaking with Unpacked, he downplayed the negativity, saying his focus is on spreading light, not getting dragged into hostility. He prefers not to dwell on the handful of bad comments, with one exception, which he found too absurd not to mention.
“I will say I’ve heard a comment where someone asked, ‘Is AIPAC paying you?’” he said. “That’s just crazy. You think there is some sinister plan? Let’s get this guy to talk about how good the babka is?’ Totally ridiculous. I’ve never once told anyone to do anything. I only highlight what’s interesting. Some people might consider it weak not to pick a political side. But in a way, it’s harder. People on both sides get mad that you don’t comment on politics.”
On Jonah Platt’s podcast Being Jewish, Caresnone reflected more personally on the surprising amount of affection he’s received from Jewish communities. He also opened up about his own background: being raised by his grandfather, never knowing his father, and confronting health fears when he was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia. The diagnosis once left him thinking he might die young, until doctors explained the illness was slow-moving and manageable. That brush with mortality, he suggested, made him more determined to channel his energy into positivity — and perhaps explains why something as simple as celebrating babka resonates so deeply with him and his audience.
Overcoming social anxiety
Behind Caresnone’s confident, high-energy persona is a long journey of personal growth. He’s open about struggling with social anxiety and how exposure therapy helped him chip away at it. The method pushed him to do deliberately uncomfortable things in public — even walking around with his beard smeared in mayonnaise — as a way of training himself not to fear embarrassment or judgment.
At the same time, he undertook a physical transformation, shedding more than 100 pounds. Both experiences taught him to think beyond quick fixes. He emphasizes that lasting change comes not from obsessing over short-term results, but from committing to the bigger picture — the kind of perspective that continues to shape both his personal life and the way he approaches his online presence.
Could he set a babka record?
Caresnone has recently branched into collaborations with chefs and fellow influencers, expanding his culinary reach beyond solo videos. Still, fans can’t resist asking him the big question: if there were ever a competitive eating contest for babka, how many slices could he put away?
His answer is both enthusiastic and realistic. Babka, he admits, is deceptively filling. The rich, buttery dough and dense chocolate swirls add up quickly.
“I’ll be honest, man, it’s kind of heavy,” he said. But he’s also experimented with different ways of eating it. While most people think of babka as something best served warm, he has a soft spot for trying it frozen. The chilled version, he explained, has a firmer texture that makes it easier to keep going slice after slice.
Even with that advantage, he doesn’t see himself clearing a pound. His best guess? Somewhere between eight and 10 slices — a respectable feat, but one that underscores babka’s decadent richness.
Why is babka booming?
Babka’s roots stretch back to the Jewish communities of Eastern Europe, where resourceful home bakers turned leftover challah dough into something sweet and celebratory. They rolled the dough thin, spread it with jam, cinnamon, or nuts, then twisted and braided it into loaves that resembled the challahs they were already accustomed to making for Shabbat. Over time, chocolate became the filling of choice — especially after it became more widely available in the 19th and early 20th centuries — and the swirled, glossy-topped cake we now associate with Jewish bakeries was born.
Traditionally, many babkas were pareve, made without butter or milk so they could be eaten after meat meals. But dairier versions also emerged, enriched with butter and sour cream, giving the bread a tender crumb and making it a true dessert centerpiece. In Jewish immigrant neighborhoods of New York, babka became a staple of bakeries alongside rugelach and black-and-white cookies, anchoring the city’s Jewish food culture.
In the last decade, babka has undergone something of a renaissance. Upscale bakeries and Instagram-friendly cafés have reimagined it as an “artisanal” treat, layering in Nutella, pistachios, halva, or even savory fillings like za’atar and cheese. Jewish baking influencers have given their own takes on the Jewish dessert and bakeries have opened that exclusively make unique flavors of babka.
On social media, its swirls photograph beautifully, turning a loaf of babka into a symbol of cultural nostalgia with modern foodie appeal.
Caresnone’s rise as the “Babka King” has only amplified that profile. While he doesn’t hand out ratings the way Barstool Sports’ Dave Portnoy does for pizza, he understands the parallel between the two foods: both are endlessly adaptable, fiercely beloved, and nearly impossible to get wrong.
“To me, babka is like pizza,” he said. “No matter what, it’s still good.”
