Shelley Civkin

Hitting the high seas & citrus

Who among us enjoys using a 400°F oven during the summer? That would be: Nobody. Ever. For me, summer is synonymous with barbecuing, which is first cousin to steak, hamburgers, chicken and grilled veggies.

Recently introduced to tuna steaks, I’ve now gone over to the light side. On a recent trip to Victoria, good friends had us over for dinner and served one of the best meals we’ve eaten in years. While most of the component parts were healthy, some were deliciously questionable, in terms of caloric heft (see lemon mousse below). The star of the meal, by a long shot, however, was the marinated tuna steak, grilled on the barbecue. Even though it was more well done than I prefer, it was still juicy, incredibly flavourful and tender. I like my tuna steak with grill marks on the outside and pink rareness on the inside. Most good fish restaurants serve it like that. Despite the variance in preferences, our friend cooked it to perfection. As with all good things, I like to share my enjoyment with others. So, you’re welcome.

You can buy frozen tuna steaks at lots of stores. Fresh is even better, but not always available. For your culinary edification, did you know that Pacific bluefin tuna are approximately five feet long and weigh about 130 pounds? (Think: that’s bigger than me!) Apparently, the world record for the largest bluefin tuna caught was set in Nova Scotia in 1979. It weighed in at a whopping 1,496 pounds. How do you even land something like that? It’s like the Tuna That Ate New York. The tuna we had was cut into petite steaks of about five inches by three inches, and was one-inch-thick perfection.

MARINATED TUNA STEAKS
(serves 4)

4 4-ounce tuna steaks
1/4 cup orange juice
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp chopped fresh oregano
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
salt to taste

In a large non-reactive dish (does this mean it’s even-tempered?), mix together the orange juice, soy sauce, olive oil, lemon juice, parsley, garlic, oregano and pepper. Place the tuna steaks in the marinade and turn it over to coat. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Bring to room temperature before grilling/frying. Preheat grill at high heat, or pan sear on high in a frying pan.

Lightly oil grill grate or frying pan. Cook the tuna steaks for approximately five minutes, then turn and baste with the marinade. Cook for an additional five minutes, or to desired doneness. I’ve read recipes that call for as little as a 45-second-per-side cooking time, so, use your own discretion. Discard any remaining marinade.

Serve it up with a side of guacamango salad (see below), and you’re sure to get a thank you note. Add some tri-coloured baby new potatoes and, voila, just like that, your guests/partner/pets will think you’re Julia Child!

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I can cook and not give people E. coli. I have been known to give my husband and I food poisoning from bad lamb. In my defence, it was a full moon and I was unsupervised. I’ve also been known to accidentally coat snapper in icing sugar instead of flour. Because Harvey and I were in our “courting” phase, he ate it nonetheless. I went out for takeout sushi. This is one of Harvey’s favourite stories. Mostly, I just cook stuff that it’s humanly impossible to screw up. Or, I let Harvey cook and, since he thinks that cooking is like doing a chemistry experiment, I say, knock yourself out Science Guy.

Never heard of my newly created gaucamango salad? Feast your tastebuds.

SHELLEY’S GUACAMANGO SALAD

2 large, ripe Ataulfo mangoes, diced
2 large, ripe avocados, diced
lime juice, to taste
olive oil
fresh mint, chopped roughly
blueberries (optional)

Mix all the ingredients together and tell me this isn’t the freshest-tasting summer salad you’ve ever eaten. Just try me.

As I’ve told you before, this accidental balabusta puts a premium on fast, easy meals, especially during the summer months. And, preferably, recipes that call for fewer than six ingredients, including spices. However, I made an exception for the lemon mousse, which breaches my boundaries for both patience and level of patchkerey. But, man, is it worth it! I usually never try recipes that involve separating eggs, because, well … it’s just dicey. Add in the double boiler element and we’re moving precariously into Ina Garten territory. But my friend’s rendition of this was just so darn good, I couldn’t not try it. If you’re a lemon lover, you won’t be disappointed. If you’re a sourpuss, you also won’t be disappointed.

LEMON MOUSSE DESSERT

2 lemons
1 pouch gelatin powder
4 eggs (separated)
60 grams (or 4 3/4 tbsp) sugar
1 pinch of salt
250 grams (or 1 cup) whipping cream

Wash the lemons. Zest the peel of one lemon and set it aside. Squeeze the juice of both lemons and set it aside.

Separate the eggs. Whisk sugar into the egg yolks.

In a double boiler, heat the egg yolk/sugar mixture and whisk continuously until very hot (but not boiling). If you’re like me and don’t own a double boiler, just set a bowl on top of a pot of hot water instead.

Slowly whisk in the gelatin powder, then add the lemon juice and zest. Put mixture into the fridge to cool, whisking occasionally.

Beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until firm. Beat the whipping cream.

Once egg yolk/lemon mixture is cooled, gently mix in the egg whites and whipping cream until just combined. Pour into a glass serving bowl for a pretty presentation. Chill in the fridge for a few hours and then garnish with raspberries on top.

This dessert is both fluffy and light, despite all the whipping cream. And the lemon zest gives the richness a welcome bit of texture and zhuzh. This lemon mousse is a spectacular, tart addition to any meal, plus it looks über impressive. Go ahead, boldly go where no accidental balabusta has gone before. Until now. B’tayavon!

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Celebrating 25 years

Chabad Richmond honours Rebbetzin Chanie and Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman at June 19 gala. (photo from Chabad Richmond)

“The goal of the Freilach25 gala goes beyond just a thank you to me and Chanie,” said Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, who is being honoured with his wife Chanie next month.

“It’s about promoting the Rebbe’s mission,” he said. “And, if Chanie and I can help do that, OK. We’re dedicated to doing the Rebbe’s work, to bringing the warmth of Yiddishkeit and the warmth of Torah and Chassidus (Chassidic philosophy) to as many people as we can, in whatever ways we can.”

Freilach25, which marks Chabad Richmond’s 25th anniversary and celebrates the Baitelmans’ many contributions to the community, will take place on June 19 at Schara Tzedeck Synagogue. The keynote speaker at the event will be human rights advocate Natan Sharansky, who will talk on the importance of dialogue and cooperation between Jews from both sides of the Iron Curtain in the struggle for the release of Soviet Jewry, as well as the urgency of building and strengthening Judaism in our community.

In a recent interview with the Baitelmans, they spoke about their 25-year journey with Chabad Richmond, which began in October 1993.

Lubavitch BC’s Rabbi Yitzchak Wineberg brought the young couple out to Vancouver to be shluchim(emissaries) of the Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson (1902-1994). Rabbi Yitzchak and Henia Wineberg were, and still are, their “supervisors,” but, in 2000, the Baitelmans went out on their own, when people asked for a Chabad centre in Richmond. Nonetheless, for the first 10 years, they maintained some of their duties and responsibilities for Lubavitch BC in Vancouver – programs, summer day camp, etc.

“Our kick-off event in Richmond was during Hanukkah,” said Rabbi Baitelman. “We put the word out and had parties at our home over a couple of nights. In fact, we held a lot of programs in our home – Sunday morning Minyaneers Club, classes, and other programs. We weren’t holding services yet, but we began expanding our programs.”

Chabad has had a presence in Vancouver for a long time. Not so for Richmond. “One of the biggest struggles we have in Richmond is getting the word out that we exist, what we do, and the welcoming atmosphere we have,” said the rabbi.

The Richmond Jewish community has evolved over the years and, he said, “There are different ways of measuring the changes. There are certain areas where we see incredible success and growth, in terms of the number of people participating and supporting Chabad. And financial support is an important measure of how much the community appreciates us, and the value they put on the work that we do. Thank G-d, our budget has grown every year, and we’ve been able to offer more programs and activities. When we first moved to Richmond, we were still getting a salary from Vancouver, we were just raising money for our programs. Today, all our funds come from what we raise. The financial ties with Vancouver are long over.”

Asked what it’s been like for their family being on shlichus here, Rebbetzin Baitelman said, “Our kids are very proud of us. It’s nice to hear that from your own children. It was hard because we didn’t have a lot of family here. So, our kids didn’t get to grow up with cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents. But they learned a lot and got ‘voluntold’ to do lots of different jobs – cooking and set-ups and welcoming – so they’re like my assistants.”

Rabbi Baitelman spoke warmly of growing up in the Rebbe’s neighbourhood, being at his farbrengens (Chassidic gatherings) and seeing the energy, the love of every Jew, and the Rebbe’s commitment to the spiritual well-being of each Jew.

“It was an amazing inspiration, seeing the selflessness of the Rebbe,” he said. “My grandparents also had a big impact on me. My maternal grandparents were shluchim of the previous rebbe. All my aunts and uncles (my mother’s siblings, the Gordons) are all on shlichus. My parents were on shlichus until I was 2 or 3 years old. They considered themselves the unofficial embassy of Gordon shluchim around the world. Anyone inspired by the Gordon family would come to our home for Shabbos or after Sunday Dollars [every Sunday outside his office, the Rebbe would hand out a dollar bill to people who came to receive his blessing].

“And, of course, Rabbi Wineberg inspired us by giving us the opportunity to come out here – he guides us a lot. Rabbi Lipa Dubrawsky was also a significant role model for how to inspire and engage people. And, of course, my uncle Rabbi Josh Gordon impacted my life tremendously. He was a shaliach in California who accomplished great things. He turned out to be a very influential, dedicated powerhouse of a man, in terms of leadership.”

As to how they ended up in Metro Vancouver, Rabbi Baitelman said, “When Chanie and I met, we discussed shlichus and we knew this was something we wanted to do, to make it the focus of our life. We knew what being shluchim would entail, although I must say that being young and a little bit naïve helped. Being shluchim in North America fits with our talents and abilities.”

Chanie Baitelman had confessed to her husband that she had only one hesitancy. She said she asked him: “Wherever we go … could they please speak English, because I’m terrible at languages? Yechiel has a love for everything Russian, and he spent a couple of stints in Russia, and I was petrified we were going to end up there.

“Living here,” she said, “Henia Wineberg has been beyond inspirational. She took me under her wing and taught me how to navigate everything, even how to cook. When I got married, I knew how to cook three things, and one of them was cream of wheat, and only for a crowd. I was 21 years old when we came here and Henia would introduce me as ‘the new rebbetzin’ and I almost went through the floor.

“When I was younger,” she continued, “my goal was to go to seminary in Australia, which I did. My parents were always very involved in our community, so we followed along and worked with them. Our grandparents and aunts and uncles were on shlichus, and extremely devoted to the Rebbe, so it was almost by osmosis that we took it on. It was something we aspired to. We lived in a little suburb of Detroit, Mich., and we grew up very wholesome. Family was our primary example to follow.”

While her parents were not on shlichus when she was growing up, she said, “My father was a teacher in a Jewish (non-Chabad) day school and we were active in the Chabad community. My mother was also an educator. But now my parents are shluchim. They’ve been shluchim for 21 years, so they went out on shlichus after us.”

Both of the Baitelmans expressed gratitude when asked what message they’d like to impart to the community.

Chanie Baitelman said: “Thankfulness and gratefulness for allowing us to be part of your community and supporting and befriending us all these years. I’ve learned something from everyone I’ve met here.”

Her husband contemplated for a moment before answering. “First thing, gratitude is very important – gratitude to the Rebbe and all the people who inspired us to be shluchim, and who mentor us. I’m so grateful to those people who opened their doors to us when we were an unknown commodity, a young couple new to the community. I try to always remember to say thank you to them for their belief in us, for their friendship and their support.

“I believe there’s still so much to do, both in terms of our personal growth, and in terms of communal growth,” he added. “Our best days are ahead of us. We have challenges, but they bring out the best in us. I invite everybody who wants to be part of this to bring their talents, experience and energy forward to join us. We’re honoured and privileged to be on the journey with this community and, together, we should bring the Rebbe a lot of naches, and fulfil his dream and vision of the times of Moshiach, of a perfect world, when everybody will have what they need, and everyone will be happy and healthy and strong. And the beauty inherent in Hashem’s world will be visible and obvious to everybody.”

The Baitelmans are the conduits through which many in the community connect with the Rebbe and his mission.

“We’re just the channel,” Chanie Baitelman stressed. “It’s not the easiest job, you have to work hard, but we’re doing something meaningful. Really, it’s a privilege. That someone would pay us to do meaningful work, is just beyond. Like our kids say: ‘So, basically, Mom, you got your dream job. You’re living your dream.’”

The Rebbe often used the metaphor of light – the power of light is that you can ignite an infinite number of flames from one light.

“In a sense, we are all shluchim, we’re all doing the Rebbe’s work in one way or another,” said Yechiel Baitelman. “Some do it as their career, some do it through volunteering or financial support, but having so many people involved in this army of goodness and kindness, all inspired by the Rebbe, that’s so rewarding. I never really understood why people wanted to volunteer with Chabad, then I realized it’s because others inspire them to get involved.”

The Baitelmans aren’t people who seek out honours. However, said the rabbi, “If, by telling our story and being part of the Freilach25 gala, we can advance the Rebbe’s mission for the betterment of the community, then do whatever you need to do. It’s not really about us, but we’re very grateful. Just please remember that there’s a bigger goal beyond the thank you and acknowledgement. Something has to come from this, whether it’s supporting Chabad or getting more involved, whatever it might be. Over the next 25 years, there’s a lot more we need to accomplish, so please have that in mind.”

Tickets for the gala are limited. They can be reserved at chabadrichmond.com/freilach25.

Shelley Civkin is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

May the force be with you

In my world, you can never have enough lamb. Or, to be more specific, lamb shanks. It used to be what I called “fancy food,” for which I splurged only on special occasions, like New Year’s Eve, or a birthday ending in zero. But since the pandemic started, up is down and right is left, and every day that you’re healthy is a day that’s meant to be celebrated. Goodness knows we could all use a little splurging. So, hubby Harvey sold a kidney and bought five pounds of lamb shanks. Lest you think we’re complete chazers, let me add that we had another couple over for dinner. For the first time in two-and-a-half years.

After two years of strict isolation and adherence to Dr. Bonnie Henry’s pandemic protocols, it was a wondrous event, to be sitting less than six feet away from two close friends, masks discarded, acting as though we did this every day. There wasn’t a shred of anxiety anywhere to be seen, and it just felt so normal. To say I felt ridiculously elated and grateful at the same time would not be an exaggeration. It was pure joy. I wondered why we hadn’t done it sooner. And then I remembered … that pesky pandemic. Oh, and my COVID anxiety, which can often be seen from space.

But back to the main event. The lamb. I’d sent Harvey to the butcher to pick up the lamb and, when he returned home, he handed me the bag-o-meat. Which weighed nearly as much as me. I asked him: “So did they throw in a ram for free?” To which he replied: “I told them I wanted the biggest lamb shanks they had.” Long story short, each shank was the size of a small country. Maybe slightly bigger. All of a sudden, my four hours of estimated cooking time was looking more like half a day. Luckily, I’m an early riser.

I hauled out my biggest roaster, proceeded to dirty every fry pan, pot and utensil in the apartment – we’re talking squeezers, mincers, graters, peelers, a multitude of various-sized knives, cutting boards and a healthy shot of Scotch (just kidding about the Scotch, but after it was all said and done, I sure could’ve used a glass) – and had at it.

The recipe, which Harvey found on the internet, is called Tom Valenti’s Lamb Shanks, and it’s spectacular! I won’t bore you with the details – Google it. Never mind that it calls for a bottle of wine, four cups of broth and a whole whack of other stuff. When it was all assembled, I couldn’t even lift the roaster, never mind take it in and out of the oven every 30 minutes for the next five hours. I happily handed over the reins to Harvey to do the heavy lifting. While I sat around and ate bonbons. Not.

All modesty aside, the lamb shanks were a huge hit. But, I was left with cups and cups of gorgeous, rich, winey braising liquid, flavoured with onions, carrots, celery, garlic and thyme, to name just a few of the players. I actually considered drinking it. Is that wrong? Of course, the thyme sprigs might get caught in my teeth.

So, I did what any self-respecting 21st-century cook with a few gallons of leftover braising liquid would do – I Googled it. Which is where I found an article by Mackenzie Stratton in The Spruce Eats, called “What to do with leftover braising liquid.” Imagine that. I learned many things, like the fact that chefs often refer to braising liquid as “liquid gold” because of its ability to transform whatever it touches into something fabulous.

I know some of you will wonder why I bothered keeping the seemingly useless flotsam and jetsam of a meal. It’s because I hate throwing stuff out that I could possibly use. Operative word here is “possibly.” My father, alav ha-shalom, always used to rib me about how thrifty I am. He’s right. I hate to waste food and, if I can repurpose it, why the heck not? When I told Harvey my plans for the braising liquid, he informed me that the army used to call that a “force multiplier.” May the force be with you, too.

If Mackenzie Stratton is to be believed, you can elevate just about any dish with leftover braising “gold.” But first you have to let the “gold” cool overnight in the fridge, then skim off the fat from the top. You’ll be left with a lovely (?) gelatinous bowl of the aforementioned “gold.” Next step requires you to sacrifice your ice cube trays. Fill each one with a big glob of “gold,” freeze them, and then put the nuggets in a Ziploc baggie or in small containers for future use. This is where the “gold” comes in, because at $16 to $18 a bottle for the wine and another $60 for the lamb and the rest of the ingredients, it’s not something you relish throwing down the sink once everyone’s had a good burp.

What all can you do with these little brown, gelatinous gems? You can incorporate them into other recipes, like soups, pasta or grain dishes; use them to poach chicken or tougher cuts of meat; or put them in stews. You can also use them as the supreme weapon of decadence: boil potatoes in the thawed braising liquid, then turn them into the ultimate side of mashed potatoes. I have no words. The drool is dribbling down my chin.

I usually like to include a photo of my culinary creations/discoveries and, well, not to be crass or anything, but Harvey says these “gold” blobs look like something people pick up with those little green baggies on their hand. Need I say more? Now just try and un-see that visual.

Like the thrifty Accidental Balabusta that I am, you might just be on the receiving end of my leftover braising “gold” next time you come for dinner. But you won’t know it. To paraphrase John F. Kennedy: ask not what your lamb shanks can do for you – ask what you can do for your lamb shanks.

Once again, you’re welcome. Bon appetit!

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

The joys of parchment paper

Greek sheet pan chicken, using a recipe from the website Downshiftology. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

I know it’s pretty laughable that I only discovered parchment paper a few years ago, but there’s always someone late to the party. Parchment paper is your friend, and it’s so ridiculously versatile and handy, I can’t believe I baked without it for all these years! (Although, having been single until I was 53, I must admit to not having baked much in those years.) I even turned my husband Harvey onto it. Now he uses parchment paper for everything. I caught him the other day trying to make a fruit salad on parchment paper. We buy the stuff by the truckload now. It saves on clean up, eliminates the possibility of burned pans, and withstands high heat. Plus, it contains some sort of magic that results in perfect meals every time. Seriously, I haven’t had a fail since I became a parchment paper convert. I know. Crazy, right?

My latest foray into culinary exploration using parchment paper was Greek sheet pan chicken. Harvey tried the recipe first, and it scored a 10/10. Weeks later, he asked me if I wanted to make it and, quite frankly, I couldn’t say no. After all, he’s been making me pancakes for breakfast three times a week, so I was hardly in a position to negotiate. I was just worried that I wouldn’t be able to replicate it. But I sucked it up, donned my Disclosure Diner apron and got on with it. Without a word of a lie, this recipe produces the most juicy, harmonious flavours I’ve had in eons. And there was virtually no clean up – winner, winner chicken dinner.

The recipe is from the website Downshiftology, and it’s by Lisa Bryan. Thank you, Lisa. It’s a wee bit labour-intensive, with all the chopping, mincing, dicing and marinating, but what isn’t time-consuming these days? Caveat: the original recipe calls for feta cheese, but since I don’t mix meat and milk, I omit that. Believe me when I tell you that there’s plenty of salt in this recipe already. Feta compli! Just cook up a side of rice, orzo, quinoa or bowtie pasta and you’re set. Oh, and maybe whip up a salad if you’re feeling inspired.

Now, I know that lots of people prefer the leaner white chicken meat, but thighs are just more tender and moist. You can be the judge, but I can’t be responsible for the cooking time for chicken breasts, so you’re on your own there.

Give this recipe a go, and tell me if this isn’t Mediterranean cooking at its best. I generally have a rule to not use recipes that call for more than five or six ingredients, but I made an exception here, and it paid off in spades.

GREEK SHEET PAN CHICKEN

1/2 cup olive oil
juice of 1 1/2 lemons (about 3 tbsp)
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
6 chicken thighs, bone-in, skin-on
1 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and sliced
1 yellow bell pepper, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 red bell pepper, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1/2 large red onion, thinly sliced
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes
1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted (more, if you love olives)
1/4 cup feta cheese (optional)
2 tbsp finely chopped fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 425°F. In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, lemon juice, garlic, oregano, thyme, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper.
Put chicken thighs in a bowl (or plastic bag) and pour two-thirds of the marinade on top. Then toss the chicken around in the marinade to make sure it’s well coated. Marinate the chicken for 15 minutes or more.
While the chicken is marinating, put a piece of parchment paper on a baking sheet. Spread the zucchini, bell peppers, red onion and tomatoes onto the sheet and drizzle the remaining marinade on top. Toss together to coat the vegetables.
Add the chicken thighs to the baking sheet and nestle the veggies around them. Bake for 30 minutes.
Remove the baking sheet from the oven, add the olives (and feta, if you’re using it) and then put it back in the oven for another 10 to 15 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft and the chicken is cooked through. You can always turn on the broiler for a minute or two at the end if you like the skin crispy.
Sprinkle the chicken and vegetables with finely chopped fresh parsley before serving.

Not only does this dish look gorgeous, but it’s got deep, rich flavour and the recipe is pretty easy to follow. Of course, if you’re serving it to company, it’ll take a bit of manoeuvring to transfer it to a platter because there are so many moving parts. But it’s a pandemic, so who’s having company over for dinner anyway?

Sometimes, I think to myself: do I really want to bother with all this dicing and chopping and slicing? Operative word: sometimes. This is a treat-yourself-to-a-sumptuous-dinner-and-stop-being-so-lazy kind of meal. Like my dad used to say: you’re the most important guest in your own home. Go nuts. Cook for looks. And taste. Like so many different meals, this one is just as good if not better the next day, since the flavours seem to marry overnight.

As for a pre-dinner treat, why not aim for easy but yummy. If you want to bump up the fanciness quotient a notch, make some toast points (crusts cut off), smear on some mayonnaise or egg mix, and top with caviar. I buy the inexpensive black lumpfish caviar for special occasions and it’s delish. It’ll impress the heck out of your partner, your guests, even yourself. And, you know what? You deserve it! Why should caviar be reserved just for New Year’s Eve or engagement parties? Those poor misunderstood fish roe – they deserve to be showcased all year round. If I weren’t afraid of all the judging that might accompany it, I’d eat caviar every day.

Another caveat: don’t eat this meal before you go for a blood test, because your sodium will be off the charts.

Comfort food for dark times

If the thought of cooking one more boring meal is just too daunting, Google your heart out – there are gazillions of cookbooks out there.

The days are short and dark and all I seem to want to do right now is stuff my face with comfort food. Some days that manifests as peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and some days it looks like pot roast and mashed potatoes. I rarely crave a salad or a stick of celery in this chilly, wet weather. Mind you, I have been tempted (and given into) a huge piece of pumpkin pie. That’s a daily serving of vegetables, right? I’m all about the carbs at the moment. Plus, peanut butter makes my coat nice and shiny. Or so says hubby Harvey.

Like a bear, I’m looking to bulk up for my winter hibernation. Although, when you think about it, we’ve been living through almost a two-year hibernation. It’s called COVID-19. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t found some comfort in over-indulging during this pandemic. Whether the target of our ill-placed attention is food, booze or online shopping, we’ve all been guilty of overdoing it in some way or other. Oh, I forgot to include Netflix, Prime Video and Crave. I do crave my Crave. I don’t know how many hours of my life I’ve given over to this pap. Not that I’m bragging. Actually, I’m kind of embarrassed by it, but, in a way, it’s keeping me sane because it lets me focus on something other than COVID. But enough about the C-word.

My guilty pleasure is doughy, savoury foods, packed with calories. That’s where the Perogy Toss comes in. I got this recipe decades ago from the catering company at Richmond City Hall’s cafeteria, where I often ate lunch during my working days. The recipe is still a winner. Add a salad and you’ve got dinner. Add a glass or two of wine and you’ve got a date.

PEROGY TOSS

1-kg package frozen potato perogies
4 tbsp sundried tomato oil (or olive oil)
3/4 cup minced onion
1 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp minced black olives
12 tbsp (3/4 cup) minced and drained sundried tomatoes
4 tbsp minced capers
1 1/2-oz (14-gram) package fresh basil, chopped
light sour cream

Boil salted water in a large pot. Add frozen perogies and boil for four to five minutes (or whatever the directions say). Drain well. Rinse with hot water and drain again. Return perogies to the pot.

In a frying pan, heat the sundried tomato oil (or olive oil) until hot. Add onion and garlic and sauté until onion is soft and golden. Add olives, sundried tomatoes and capers. Stir.

When heated through, add to the cooked perogies in the pot. Heat on low for about one minute, tossing to fully coat the perogies. Add the basil and serve at once. Put sour cream on top, if desired – and who wouldn’t desire that?

Just in case this recipe doesn’t give you your year’s allotment of salt, here’s another one that will not only satisfy your craving for savoury, but holds its own as an appetizer served with pita or crackers. Some of you might be put off by the weird orange shade of this dip, but I’m sure you’ll get past that. If you’re a lazy cook like me, you’ll be happy to know that the only kitchen appliance you’ll need is a food processor.

RED PEPPER & FETA DIP

3 red bell peppers
6 oz feta cheese
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp pine nuts

Cut in half and seed three red bell peppers. Place on a broiling pan, skin side up, and broil until skin is charred and blistered, turning over several times. This is what creates that smoky flavour.

Remove the skin from the peppers – some say sealing them in a brown paper bag while they’re cooling for five to 10 minutes creates steam and makes them easier to peel.

Once peeled, put the peppers in a food processor and add the feta cheese, olive oil and pine nuts. Blend till it’s nice and smooth.

Chill before serving. (I mean the dip, but you could also chill yourself with a glass or two of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a bag of chips.)

Serve with pita wedges or crackers. And don’t even think of substituting a different kind of nut. It’s just wrong. It’s got to be pine nuts.

I’ve made this dip for company loads of times and everyone likes it. It’s one of those go-to, quick-as-can-be appies that’s pretty much foolproof. Of course, your guests have to have a taste for feta cheese and pine nuts, but don’t most of us? (Maybe have an EpiPen ready just in case.) It’s definitely got a bit of an unusual flavour, but in a good way. It’s worth a try, if only to expand your repertoire … says the woman who ate the same California roll and agedashi tofu three or four times a week when she was single. However, I’ve since seen the error of my ways.

As you can tell, I’m all about the easy. And, if it tastes good too, score a win. I’ve never been one to fuss about food because it all gets eaten in a matter of minutes anyway, so why bother? I know, I know. What kind of an attitude is that for an accidental balabusta? But, like Popeye said, “I yam what I yam.”

As time wears on with this pandemic, I’m going to need to get more creative with my culinary adventures. I’ve fallen into the chicken, fish, meat, repeat, habit, and it’s getting old. I sure miss going out to restaurants on a regular basis. With the majority of us Canadians being doubly vaccinated, I think we’re moving in the right direction with this pandemic and, hopefully, it won’t be long before we embark on our “new normal.” G-d-willing, it will be an even better, more beautiful “normal.”

In the meantime, if the thought of cooking one more boring meal is just too daunting, get out your mother’s 1970s National Council of Jewish Women cookbook, Google your heart out or visit a bookstore near you, and tackle some new recipes. You might just discover your new favourites. Or maybe try a recipe swap with your close friends. You never know what tricks they might have up their sleeves. Caveat: choose friends whose culinary realm most resembles yours; otherwise, you may find yourself spending hours in the kitchen making some exotic breakfast, when all you really wanted was a new recipe for French toast.

Wishing you well in your hibernation. Don’t forget to turn the heat down, suspend newspaper delivery and stock up on toilet paper. I know, I know – newspaper? (Present company excepted, of course, and the JI is taking the month off, as well.)

Shelley Civkin aka the Accidental Balabusta is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Savoury, sweet and simple

Cottage cheese muffins à la Accidental Balabusta, but double the size. (photo by Cynthia Ramsay)

Looking for a couple of easy recipes to add to your repertoire? But you’re not quite sure what to try? Because sometimes you want savoury. Sometimes you want sweet. But what if you want both? I’ve got just the answer – but it doesn’t come in the form of one recipe. It comes in two. One’s a side dish and one’s a snack or breakfast food. Both punch above their weight, that’s for sure.

With very few exceptions I have neither the focus nor the patience to embark on complicated recipes that call for exotic ingredients and specialty cookware. If I can’t pronounce it and it’s not available at my local Safeway or Superstore, it ain’t happening. (Except for those lamb shanks that I made for Rosh Hashanah, which did call for loads of ingredients and which were, to use my hubby’s words: “The best lamb I’ve ever eaten!” Sorry … I just had a modesty bypass.)

Maybe I’m not the most adventurous eater/cook in the world but I never go hungry. My father, alav hashalom, used to say that I’d eat out of a puddle if push came to shove. I prefer to describe it as having simple tastes.

Good thing my husband didn’t marry me for my cooking. Although it has improved significantly since we got married 12 years ago. When we first met, my idea of dinner was a California roll and Agedashi tofu takeout. We used to eat out at restaurants maybe three or four times a week during the honeymoon phase, i.e. the first four years of our marriage. I kept telling him I knew how to cook; I just chose not to activate that skill. And what do you know. He believed me.

But I digress. Back to the savoury recipe I was going to tell you about. It’s an eggplant side dish or chunky dip and is a perfect accompaniment to just about any meal, be it meat, chicken, vegetarian or fish. It’s a bit time-consuming, but what eggplant recipe isn’t, with all that peeling, slicing and dicing? I’m not a big fan of spicy food so you can up the garlic content as you see fit. I find it’s got just that right combination of salty, spicy, sweet and tart, without being heavy or overpowering. I call it Merle’s Eggplant, after my sister’s friend who gave us the recipe decades ago. Thank you, Merle.

MERLE’S EGGPLANT

1 diced onion
1 large or 2 medium-size eggplants, peeled and cubed
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
14 oz (398 ml) can tomato sauce
a squeeze or two of lemon juice
1-2 tbsp brown sugar

Peel and cube eggplant and set aside.
Fry diced onion in olive oil until lightly browned.
Add eggplant to onions and fry, alternating covered and uncovered, until eggplant is opaque.
Add minced garlic, tomato sauce, lemon juice and brown sugar. Cook on low heat for about one hour, covered.
Refrigerate then serve. Some people like to serve it hot, but I prefer it cold, because I find that the flavours meld even more when it’s been refrigerated. But that’s your call. Try it both ways.

* * *

As for the sweet recipe – cottage cheese muffins – well, it’s a favourite in our home. It’s one of those comfort foods that soothe just about any ailment, from fatigue to sore feet. Aside from being healthy (think protein), they’re filling and super-fast to make, plus it’s one of those recipes that you can make blindfolded with both hands tied behind your back. Eat them hot, eat them cold, eat them with jam, eat them plain.

The only people that won’t like these muffins are the lactose-intolerant. And that can be remedied. I recently found lactose-free cottage cheese at the local supermarket. It’s slightly more expensive, but worth it if you like dairy but not the side effects that can go with it. Knock yourself out with these fluffy, light, healthy muffins. I’ve seen all sorts of variations on this recipe, using cheddar cheese, whole wheat flour, sour cream, etc., but none of them quite matches the simplicity and yumminess of this one.

I would strongly suggest doubling the recipe, since this recipe only makes 12 small muffins. Or just eat several at one go, and explain to shocked onlookers that they’re mini-muffins. Which they’re not, but, never mind. Just look at it as muffin-envy.

COTTAGE CHEESE MUFFINS

1 1/2 cups cottage cheese
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 cup melted butter or margarine
2 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
a pinch of salt
1 cup flour

Preheat oven to 400°F.
Mix all ingredients by hand. Don’t be surprised if the batter is quite thick.
Grease muffin tins or use paper muffin liners. Distribute batter evenly between the 12 muffin cups.
Bake for about 20 minutes or until golden brown on top. They’re ready when a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean.
Eat plain or topped with yogurt, sour cream, berries, jam or whatever. They reheat well in the microwave. But, if there are more than two people living in your home, the muffins probably won’t make it till the next day. They may sound too good and too easy to be true, but I’m here to tell you, they’re the real deal. Sometimes, the most basic recipes are the star of the show. Or at least the crowd-pleasers.

* * *

It’s not the number of ingredients or the sophistication of technique that make a recipe sing. It’s the flavour, plain and simple. So, do yourself a favour and try out these two recipes. Tell them the Accidental Balabusta sent you.

Change the conversation

It’s high time we changed the conversation. I know unequivocally that the whole world is sick of every conversation starting with: “The case numbers today.…” Or “Two people died today of COVID.” Or “I can’t believe how many idiots wear their masks around their chin!” Or “I’m so tired of COVID!”

Boo-Hoo. Enough ready!

Full disclosure: I am 100% guilty of some or maybe even all of these statements. And tons more that I’m too embarrassed to admit. It’s been so long. Oops, there’s another one. In my defence, I’m trying to change the conversation. For instance, I’ve caught myself saying, “I’m feeling hopeful today” several times this week. I’ve even been inspired to say “Thank you” instead of “Why me?”

We are all human barometers. Our mercury rises and falls in direct relation to the medical experts’ latest pronouncements. We hold our collective breath each time they opine. We hang on every word. And because their world rotates around COVID, ours does, too. But does it need to? The answer is a hard no.

It’s long past due to think thanks. In the past 18 months I can honestly say I’m thankful for participating in Zoom classes every day; walking more; connecting with cousins I barely knew; and meeting new people on the virtual committees I attend.

Thank you G-d for my community, my Torah learning and for endless opportunities to make life better. Thank you for allowing me to survive the pandemic. On second thought, just make that, thank you G-d.

I acknowledge my gratitude. Also, my vulnerability and dependence on G-d. An avowed believer, I’m not embarrassed to admit this. Even among avowed atheists and agnostics.

What I want to say is this: it’s time to celebrate. Not go-out-and-get-drunk celebrate. But, rather, celebrate the small victories. There are zillions of them. Or so I’m told. I’m guilty of seeing the defeats first, but I truly am working on it. Acknowledging this, here, now, I’m humbled to realize that there are infinite lessons I need to learn.

At a women’s Torah study class I attended a few months ago (via Zoom, of course), the instructor posed some simple, yet profound, ideas. Juxtaposing anxiety and positive thinking, and how they relate to emunah (faith in G-d) and bitachon (trust in G-d), she suggested we look at struggles with a different mindset: “What’s the opportunity here?” If you are a Torah-believing Jew, you know that there’s a purpose in whatever G-d throws at us, as individuals and as a collective.

On a personal level, we just have to figure out what that purpose is. Sounds simple, right? Not. Even. A. Little. As the instructor suggested, if we turn our habitual thinking around, we might just be able to parse the purpose. In other words, whatever happens to me, it was G-d’s idea, so what do I do with it? How can I maximize my potential? What’s being asked of me? While the world and its vagaries seem random, they’re far from it.

Life will actually become easier if I stop fearing unknown and challenging situations, and accept that there is always a purpose there. Of course, that’s easy to do when things are going well, but the minute I feel threatened or scared, my anxiety and fear goes from zero to 100 in seconds.

Faced with terrible tragedy, it seems impossible to believe that G-d takes care of us all the time. If He did, why would people be faced with horrific situations that rob them of loved ones, threaten their health and jeopardize their livelihoods, etc.? At times like this, our emunah and bitachon face their biggest hurdles.

How many times have I heard the phrase tracht gut vet zein gut (think good and it will be good)? On the face of it, brilliant. In reality, next to impossible. Notice I didn’t say downright impossible. It’s impossible-adjacent. I try it on occasion, but have difficulty with the carry-through. I assume it’s more of a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of thing that needs to be hauled out of the closet more than once a month. I must start wearing my rubber bracelet with the saying stamped on it.

There are always more questions than answers. What is this ____ (fill in the blank) meant to teach me? What does G-d want from me? How can I stretch myself spiritually, emotionally and intellectually? How can I turn this situation around to find something positive here?

In my 65 years, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that life is a series of journeys, rather than a destination. Or, to use an analogy my father, z’l, favoured: life is like swimming in the ocean. You swim and struggle and get tired. Then, you reach a little island where you can rest and gather your strength. But the water starts rising and you have to start swimming again. So, you begin the process all over.

I guess the message here is to enjoy the short stints on the little islands of calm. Appreciate them, embrace them, then prepare for more challenges. I guess the trick is to look for more islands and steer ourselves in that direction. How hard can it be?

Hmm…. I’ll let you know once I dry off.

I have few, if any, answers. However, it’s probably more important to ponder the questions than pontificate about things. Humility trumps arrogance, after all. Like the saying goes, the more we learn, the more we realize how little we know. We can remedy that somewhat with some good old inquisitiveness, a dash of openness, an attitude of show-me and, well, you might just find one of those islands. Or, at the very least, float for awhile, while you enjoy the sun on your face.

Just remember to always wear sunscreen.

Lamb shanks a savoury dish

Lamb is a rich meal, so count on one shank per person. (photo by Arild Finne Nybø)

This year, I plan to stray from my plebian Rosh Hashanah chicken and salmon, and go all in with lamb shanks. Even as I write this column, I don’t know whether or not we’ll be able to gather with family this year for the High Holidays. But, I’m hopeful. And, after spending a year-and-a-half’s worth of Jewish holidays celebrating via Zoom (or on our own), it’s left me remarkably unfazed. We have to eat, after all. It may as well be yummy. As my father always reminded me, “I am the most important guest in my own home!” So, lamb it is.

Being a shockingly bad liar, I feel compelled to come clean right at the get-go. I have never cooked this dish before. My husband Harvey is the lamb expert at our home. But it’s high (chai) time I stretched my culinary balabusta skills. For the record, I am breaking all my own rules, by making a dish that has more than five ingredients, and which looks like it’ll take a good hour or more to prepare. But we’re worth it. The end result will be a smooth, savoury dish with extrastellar depth and gastronomic nuance. Ha! And if you believe those hyperbolic words, I have a bridge to sell you. But, in all seriousness, it’s one of my favourite meals, rich though it may be.

As you know, if you’re a hardcore carnivore like me, lamb is a very fatty meat. As well, it has a distinctive flavour that you either love or hate. There don’t seem to be many fence-sitters when it comes to lamb. Harvey and I position ourselves squarely in the love-it camp. While we don’t eat it often, we consider lamb fancy food, and usually only have it on special occasions. Like Tuesdays. It plays well with rice, couscous, noodles or potatoes, which makes it an equal opportunity meat. And that’s something I admire in my food.

MOROCCAN LAMB SHANKS

6 lamb shanks
coarse salt and pepper to taste
3 tbsp plus 1/4 cup olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
6 large garlic cloves, minced
4 carrots, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces
4 celery ribs, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces
2 tbsp packed brown sugar
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp cayenne, or to taste
1 1/2 cup dry red wine
3 cups beef broth

Preheat oven to 325°F. Season the lamb with salt and pepper.
Heat three tablespoons oil in a heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the celery, carrots and onion and cook until very soft, eight to 10 minutes.
Add the thyme, cumin, paprika, cinnamon, cloves, cayenne, brown sugar and garlic and cook for three minutes.
Add the wine, then raise heat to high and bring to a boil. Lower heat to medium and add the beef broth. Leave on medium heat while you brown the lamb shanks.
Pour the remaining 1/4 cup of olive oil into a sauté pan. Over medium-high heat, brown the lamb shanks well on all sides.
Transfer the lamb shanks to the roasting pan (or Dutch oven) and pour the braising liquid on top. Cover with a lid or aluminum foil and cook for one hour. Remove the lid/foil and cook two-and-a-half to three hours more, turning the shanks over every half hour until the meat is very soft.
Remove the shanks from the braising liquid and strain the liquid. Skim any fat that rises to the surface, then use the liquid as a sauce.
Serve over rice, couscous or noodles, or with potatoes.

I can say with a fair degree of certainty that this is one of the tastiest lamb dishes I’ve ever had the pleasure of devouring. It’s not exactly summer food, but it’s perfect for fall or winter. If you served it for Rosh Hashanah dinner, you would undoubtedly impress the heck out of your guests. Or whomever you plan to eat with. It’s a labour-intensive recipe, no question about that. But you’ll thank me once the smell comes wafting out of your kitchen and you begin to food swoon.

Like I said, it’s a rich meal, so count on one shank per person. If you’re Israeli, you’ll probably opt to lay it gently on a mountain of rice or couscous, but maybe you’ll go rogue and settle it lovingly on a bed of noodles. We Ashkenazim like our meat and potatoes (a little too much, I’m afraid), so I’ll probably make a side of roasted baby new potatoes. If you go the traditional Ashkenazi route and start with gefilte fish and matzah ball soup, I guarantee you’ll be stuffed to the gills by the time you get halfway through the lamb. But will you stop? I think not. It’s kind of like a marathon … you don’t get halfway through only to say, “I think I’ve had enough.” Oh no, you’ll throw yourself into this Moroccan lamb like it’s a cold lake on a hot day.

As for Rosh Hashanah dessert, if you think anyone will have even a millimetre of space left in their stomach for a little something sweet, think again. I’d say there might even be a vomitorium involved, but we’re not Roman, so … no. Maybe put out some fruit for those who are really feeling gluttonous and want to ring in the New Year with a Gaviscon chaser. It’ll only be a token gesture (the fruit, not the Gaviscon), but you can always have it the next day for breakfast. Mind you, I’m usually so stuffed the following day that I can barely face food until maybe 9 a.m. Decide for yourself. Those little fruit jellies are always a nice touch, and barely take up any room.

Before you start feeling full just reading this, remember that you don’t have to eat every course that’s served during Rosh Hashanah dinner. You’re allowed to beg off the first three and save yourself for the main event. No one will be offended. In fact, probably no one will even notice. Whatever you end up doing for the High Holidays, be healthy, be safe and here’s to a sweet new year full of positive and inspiring adventures. Shana tova u’metuka.

Shelley Civkin aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Sweet summer dessert treats

(photo from twopeasandtheirpod.com)

They don’t make ’em like they used to. And, almost without exception, recipes from yesteryear are tastier, precisely because they’re reminiscent of gentler times. When I think Rice Krispie squares, I recall sitting on our old brown couch in the den, watching Ed Sullivan with the whole family. And I longingly remember eating Mom’s cheesy broccoli soufflé during Rosh Hashanah. Or, I’m back in 1966, enjoying a mountain of fried onions with my mother’s world-class chicken livers. And those salmon patties! And how about that creamed tuna in patty shells? Does anybody even eat this stuff anymore? If not, it’s a crying shame.

Maybe it’s a longing for those days when you could send your children out into the neighbourhood armed with only roller skates, in the certainty that they would be back, safe and unharmed, for lunch (or dinner, depending). A time when TV dinners were acceptable and ubiquitous. (I especially liked the one with fried chicken, corn, peas and tiny, unnaturally square carrots, mashed potatoes and canned pears/peaches.) I remember when an hourglass figure was desirable, and women actually ate to their fill. Of course, most of them smoked, too, but that’s a whole other column. I’m talking food right now. Uncomplicated, unapologetic, unfussy food. Anybody remember chip steaks? How about fondue? Sloppy Joes? Pineapple upside down cake? Aspic (now that’s one heinous creation)?

What’s old can always be new again. Especially if you’re willing to look the other way when it comes to nutrition, calories and cholesterol. Some of my favourite desserts are classic 1950s and ’60s numbers. In other words, any recipes that call for Jello or Dream Whip. And, preferably, have fewer than five ingredients.

My dad, alav hashalom, loved one particular dessert I made. Not that my repertoire was so enormous back then, but, still, it was always a winner with Dad. He’d take one bite and look at me like I’d just discovered fire. It was an easy (understatement of the millennium) recipe given to me by a woman I used to work with when I was a librarian at West Kildonan Library, in the North End of Winnipeg. Naturally, I just call it Liz Westlake’s Jello Dessert. I don’t make it very often, because I’m afraid of being shamed by my fancy foodie friends. But, occasionally, I break down and splurge. Let it be known, however, that no one – I repeat, no one – ever turns down a second piece of this dessert. It’s quaint, refreshing and … old-fashioned.

LIZ WESTLAKE’S JELLO DESSERT

1 can (398 ml or 14 oz) fruit cocktail (drained)
1 1/3 cup Graham cracker crumbs
1/3 cup melted butter
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 box cherry Jello

Preheat oven to 375°F. Mix the Graham cracker crumbs together with the melted butter and brown sugar and pat it into the bottom of a springform pan. Bake for five to seven minutes.

Make the Jello according to the instructions on the box and, when half congealed, but still smooth enough to stir (approximately 1 1/4 hours), add the drained fruit cocktail to the Jello and mix it together. Pour this on top of the Graham cracker crust and refrigerate until completely firm. (If you want to get really fancy shmancy, you can put whipped cream on top. I don’t – I’m a purist.)

Even the most kitchen-challenged soul can make this dessert. And I guarantee it’s a winner, especially on a hot day. Once again, you’re welcome.

Now to a sturdier sweet – the ubiquitous chocolate chip zucchini brownie. Anyone who grows zucchini knows that it can take over your entire garden. If you let it. This is all hearsay, of course, since I’m known far and wide to have a black thumb. But I read a lot. And I’ve heard of people whose gardens produce so much zucchini that they sneak out in the dead of night and drop bags of zucchini on neighbours’ doorsteps, then flee into the darkness, nary a trace of their identity to be found. Personally, I just buy mine at Safeway. But I’m getting off track. This dessert is easy, healthy (OK, let’s just say it’s in the general vicinity of health) and satisfying for those with a hankering for chocolate.

CHOCOLATE CHIP ZUCCHINI BROWNIES

1 1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup canola oil or vegetable oil
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 cups shredded zucchini (but don’t squeeze out the liquid)
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp salt (or a little less)
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 1/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9”x13” baking pan and set it aside.

In an electric stand mixer, or using a hand mixer, combine the sugar, oil and flour. It will look dry, but that’s OK. While mixing on low speed, add the cocoa, shredded zucchini, vanilla, salt and baking soda. Mix until well combined. Stir in the chocolate chips.

Pour the batter into the greased pan and bake for 28 to 32 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. The brownies should look set, not mushy. Cool completely on a wire rack. Cut into squares and serve.

Don’t even consider asking me how many calories there are in one square. Think of it as a serving of vegetables. I mean, there is something green in there. Beigey-green? For goodness sake, just enjoy, and stop with the guilt. They’re a nice, moist alternative to regular brownies and you get to feel all high and mighty because they’re [semi] healthy.

If neither of these desserts float your boat, try making your own popsicles. Nothing spells old-school quite like those plastic popsicle molds with the multi-coloured tops. You can over-spend and get the molds at one of those highfalutin, hoity-toity kitchen stores, or you can rock it like it’s 1964 and buy them at your local dollar store. I chose Door #2, and it works just fine. (There’s also the ice-cube tray option, with toothpicks as the popsicle sticks.) There are a gazillion recipes for popsicles on the internet, most of them calling for Greek yogurt, frozen fruit, juice and honey. Check ’em out and keep cool.

Local kids join in the Chidon

Levi Bitton (photo from Vancouver Tzivos Hashem)

The International Chidon boasts 5,000 participants from around the world and, this year, there were eight participants from Vancouver: Levi Bitton (Grade 8); Liba Baitelman (Grade 4); Yanki Baitelman (Grade 6); Menucha Prinsloo (Grade 8); Shoshana Prinsloo (Grade 5); Yonatan Prinsloo (Grade 7); Miriam Ora Yeshayahu (Grade 6); and Dovber Zhornitsky (Grade 6).

Tzivos Hashem is an international educational program for Jewish children ages 3-13, founded in 1980 by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson. It focuses on teaching kids about kindness, good deeds and refining their character to become better people and more effective influencers in our community. The program’s goal is to increase Jewish identity and provide children with inspiring and immersive Chassidic Jewish learning through fun, informal activities.

The Vancouver chapter of Tzivos Hashem was established in 2017 as part of Lubavitch BC’s outreach activities and now has approximately 45 children registered in the Sunday morning program. The biggest event of the year and the most highly anticipated part of the program is the Chidon, usually held during a Shabbaton in New York, but virtual this year because of COVID. This event highlights the advanced knowledge and understanding of all 613 mitzvot (commandments) of the Torah, as codified by Maimonides. Kids from around the world compete, and this year’s Chidon took place on May 23. Each of the Metro Vancouver students won a plaque (indicating a grade of more than 80% on the final test) and Levi had the distinction of winning a gold trophy for his grade. He was tested on the fifth book of the Torah, and had the highest mark internationally.

photo - Left to right: Menucha Prinsloo, Shoshana Prinsloo, Liba Baitelman and Miriam Ora Yeshayahu — Left to right: Menucha Prinsloo, Shoshana Prinsloo, Liba Baitelman and Miriam Ora Yeshayahu. *(photo from Vancouver Tzivos Hashem)*

Riki Oirechman, principal of Tzivos Hashem Vancouver and the local Chidon coordinator, said: “The most important thing is that the kids gain a lot of knowledge. By learning the 613 mitzvot in depth, they gain a deep appreciation and understanding of all the mitzvot, resulting in an increased excitement for, and commitment to, fulfilling them. They work super hard and really commit themselves to fulfilling the Rebbe’s direction and vision.”

Oirechman explained that all the kids in the program study and complete the five books of Torah and master the 613 mitzvot over five years. The Tzivos Hashem program uses the Yahadus curriculum created by the Living Lessons Foundation in memory of Sarah Rohr. It’s a series of textbooks explaining each mitzvah, its source in the Torah and its details.

To participate in the Chidon, students must pass multiple tests. If a child gets a 70% average, they are eligible to join the Chidon Shabbaton. The child with the highest mark in their class gets to represent their class and school at the Chidon competition. On the weekend of the Chidon, the international participants take the final test, which includes everything they learned during the year. Winners receive certificates, plaques, medals and trophies.

photo - Left to right: Dovber Zhornitsky, Yanki Baitelman and Yonatan Prinsloo — Left to right: Dovber Zhornitsky, Yanki Baitelman and Yonatan Prinsloo. *(photo from Vancouver Tzivos Hashem)*

“The Chidon includes not only the incredible game show competition, but also an exciting award ceremony. This year, over 100,000 people watched from around the world,” said Oirechman. The Chidon started in 2014 with 54 finalists and eight staff and has grown to 2,414 finalists and 375 staff this year.

Local supporters of the program include founders of the Vancouver Tzivos Hashem chapter, Rabbi Shmulik Yeshayahu of the Kollel and Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld of Chabad Lubavitch of BC, as well as a grant from the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver and local community donors.

For more information about the Vancouver Tzivos Hashem program, email [email protected] or visit lubavitchbc.com/tzivoshashem.