The word dreidel is Yiddish, and comes from the German verb dreihen, meaning “to spin.” Dreidel literally means “little spinner.” The first dreidel players were Yiddish-speaking Jews in medieval Europe. In fact, playing with tops has been a popular pastime across Western Europe since at least the 16th century!
Many believe that the four letters on the dreidel – nun, gimel, hay and shin – were taken from the Hebrew expression “Nes gadol hayah sham,” meaning “a great miracle happened there,” referring to the miraculous events of the Chanukah story in ancient Israel. Really, this meaning was added later on. The letters originally represented the Yiddish instructions for what to do when you land on each one (Yiddish and Hebrew use the same alphabet): gimel for gantz, whole, take the whole pot; hay for halb, half, take half the pot; nun for nisht, nothing, don’t take out or put in; and shin for shtehl einl, put in, i.e. put some of your coins into the pot.
As the dreidel became a symbol associated with Chanukah, many legends began to stem from it. For example, the following one: When Antiochus decreed that Jewish law may no longer be studied in public, righteous Jews defied him and continued to teach Torah to their children. When they saw the king’s henchman coming, groups of students would quickly hide their books and bring out their dreidels, pretending that they had merely gathered for a bit of fun and gambling.
From those times to nowadays, dreidel spinning has even become a competitive sport. The group Major League Dreidel hosts tournaments each year in New York City and crowns a champion for the longest-lasting continuous spin.
Binyamin Kagedanhas a master’s in Jewish thought from the Jewish Theological Seminary of America.
Reb Cantor discovers that some families, like Chelm’s Gold family, light eight candles on the first night of Chanukah. (photo by Dov Harrington from commons.wikimedia.org)
“I’m sick of Chanukah,” Reb Cantor, the merchant of Chelm, muttered. His wife, Shoshanna, looked up with surprise. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Did I say that aloud?” Reb Cantor paused and frowned. “But now that you ask…. I’m tired of Jewish holidays. I’m tired of non-Jewish holidays. I’m done with giving and getting. I’m bored with lighting candles and saying the same blessings over and over and over again. I’m finished with wondering when Chanukah is, and I’m exhausted by all the conversation about whether it’s early or late. And I am so fed up with latkes and greasy food. If I never see another potato pancake in my life it won’t be too soon.”
“But Chanukah’s a tradition,” Shoshanna said. “It’s a mitzvah! And is it so wrong to celebrate one of the few battles the Jews actually won?”
“I don’t care anymore,” Reb Cantor answered. Shoshanna Cantor nodded and sighed. Her husband, Isaac, had always been prone to depression and, as the winter days got longer, his moods often got darker. Usually, she wouldn’t worry, but Chanukah hadn’t even started yet, and listening to him kvetch for a whole eight-day week would be too much to take.
“Well, there’s a one benefit.” She smiled. “If you’re not eating latkes, you’ll probably lose some weight.”
Then she rubbed his big belly and kissed his balding forehead.
Reb Cantor tried to be grumpy about this too, but he couldn’t help himself and snorted a laugh.
***
The door of the Cantor house slammed. It was late in the afternoon of the first evening of Chanukah, and Reb Cantor was furious. He was ready to rant and rage and stomp. Not only did he hate potato latkes, he hated the way Shoshanna fried them in advance and then left them to warm in the oven until they became greasy and soggy. He sniffed the air and … there was nothing … no rancid oil or stale potato scent.
“Shoshanna!” he bellowed just as his wife appeared. “What….”
“Don’t take off your coat,” she said as she put on a wrap. “We’re not having dinner at home.”
“I’m not going to the Chelm Chanukah party!” Reb Cantor barked. “Mrs. Chaipul’s latkes always make me queasy.”
“It’s not till tomorrow night anyway,” she said. “Come with me.”
Then she walked out. He had no choice but to follow.
It wasn’t far to the Gold house. The poor cobbler lived with his many children in a home that had been completely rebuilt after it had accidentally won the sukkah contest several years before.
Shoshanna knocked on the door, and then went in. Clearly, they were expected.
Reb Cantor frowned and stomped his feet on the stoop in frustration.
A quiet voice asked, “What are you doing?”
Reb Cantor looked down at Reb Gold’s youngest daughter, Fegi, who seemed a little frightened.
“Nothing,” the merchant said, softening his voice. “I’m just making sure my boots are clean before I come inside.”
“Oh,” the little girl said. “Mama makes us take them off so we don’t track mud or scratch the floors.” She beckoned to a stack of shelves on the wall that were filled with shoes and boots.
Reb Cantor forced a smile, and sat on a bench.
“What’s that amazing smell?” he asked.
“Latkes!” the girl said with delight. “Mama’s making them and everybody’s gobbling them as fast as they come out of the pan.”
“You eat before the candles are lit?” the merchant said.
“Papa says that since Chanukah is so late this year and there are so many people to feed that we should eat while the oil’s hot.”
“So, they’re not warmed-over and limp?”
“They’re hot and crispy!” Fegi grinned. “With delicate, lacy edges.”
Reb Cantor’s mouth watered, despite his attempts to be angry and upset.
He padded his stocking feet into the kitchen full of the Gold family, large and small.
“Here, eat this,” Esther Gold said, popping a tiny warm latke into his mouth before he could say a word. “We wouldn’t want it to get cold.”
Reb Cantor couldn’t speak because of the savory explosions in his mouth.
“You’re just in time for the blessings,” Joshua Gold said.
The room fell silent. Even the oil stopped sizzling.
Soon it was filled with the song of the blessings. Each child harmonized and, as soon as he had chewed and swallowed the delicious bite, Reb Cantor couldn’t help himself and joined in.
Each of the Gold children and both their parents lit a candle until eight lights and the shammos were burning brightly. The sun had set and there was no other light in the room but the glow from the stove and the tall tapers in the middle of the long table.
“Why does your family light eight candles on the first night of Chanukah?” Reb Cantor asked.
“Chanukah celebrates a miracle,” Reb Gold said. “And my family is a miracle. That we are together is a blessing. That we have a house and food and enough money to buy so many candles is a blessing. Chanukah is a golden holiday. The latkes are golden. The light from the candles is golden. And this is the Gold house. We are so fortunate it would be a shame not to celebrate that.”
Reb Cantor looked at his wife, who was smiling at him. He did his best to hold back his tears.
“Besides,” Fegi said brightly. “If we only lit one candle it would be dark.”
Everyone laughed. Latkes were made, dreidels were spun, and the cold dark night was made warm and bright.
The End.
Mark Binderis the author of the award-winning Life in Chelm series, which includes A Chanukah Present, The Brothers Schlemiel and Matzah Mishugas. His latest book is Cinderella Spinderella. A professional storyteller, he regularly performs at synagogues, Jewish community centres and the National Yiddish Book Centre.
Shlomo and Hagar Yekutieli’s tablecloths feature many different designs, including Chanukah and other holiday motifs. (photo from shlomohagar.com)
As Chanukah appears on the horizon, our thoughts inevitably turn to two things: gifts, and fatty foods. If you’ve distributed all the socks, dreidels and menorahs in years past and are all out of ideas, rest assured, there’s more out there. Lots more.
Light it up
Most families are going to need Chanukah candles as the festival approaches, so a gift of decorative candles never has time to get stale. If your pet peeve is Chanukah candles that drip hard-to-remove wax all over your countertops, you’re not alone. A good alternative is Safed Candles’ dripless Chanukah candles at $9.95 for a box of 45 (traditionsjewishgifts.com). Another option: Rite Lite Judaica sells eco-friendly, hand-dipped multicolored beeswax Chanukah candles ($17.99) or regular hand-dipped candles at $15.04 without the eco-friendly label.
Decorate with it
Vancouver couple Shlomo and Hagar Yekutieli manufacture beautiful tablecloths decorated with Jewish motifs, among them menorah designs. Using 100 percent cotton fabric and a combination of vegetable and regular dye, the pair has been crafting cloths from their home for the past 26 years. They have designs for all the Jewish holidays, as well as waterproof sukkah hangings. Prices start at $35 and go up to $180 depending on the size of the table. For information, visit shlomohagar.com or call 604-603-4629.
Just for laughs
Cafepress.com is a website with a variety of cute gift ideas for Chanukah, some of them bordering on ridiculous. There are T-shirts that say “I Wanna be a Maccabee ($22+), baby clothes that ask “Got gelt?” and $23 baseball jerseys with the words “Blowing the shofar can get you only so far.”
Play it
Who needs Monopoly on Chanukah when you can play the Maccabee Adventure Game? (amazon.com, $29) In this board game, players must lead a band of Maccabees to find enough oil to light the menorah, trying to avoid the roaming remnants of the Seleucid Empire on the way. The game comes with instructions in Hebrew and English and offers around 45 minutes of entertainment for up to four players age 8 and older.
Read it
Chanukah is all about kids, so if you’re stuck for a gift for the special children in your circle, look no further than Eric Kimmel’s Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins (Scholastic, 1990, scholastic.com, $3.71 paperback). In this story, Hershel of Ostropol gives a Jewish village the gift of celebrating Chanukah by taking care of a series of nasty goblins that haunt the old synagogue, blow out Chanukah candles, throw potato latkes on the floor and break dreidels.
Illustrated by the careful hand of Trina Shart Hyman, the goblins are mesmerizingly hideous and the story of their defeat is at once scary, defiant, courageous and humorous as they are shown to be cowards, easily fooled by Hershel’s tricks. This book is a must for any Jewish kids’ bookshelf, a text that gets pulled out year after year and captivates kids as young as 3 and as old as 8.
Make it
A great resource for Chanukah crafts for kids is Crafting Jewish by Rivky Koenig (Mesorah Publications, 2008, artscroll.com, $26.99). Featuring a chapter for each of the Jewish holidays, the Chanukah section has seven crafts and two recipes, as well as ideas for a doughnut and ice cream party where everyone makes his/her own dessert combinations. The crafts are varied and include creating a glowing glass menorah, making dreidel-stamped gift wrap, crafting clay dreidel charm jewelry and building a Chanukah tray made from a large picture frame. The activities are beautifully explained, with a list of needed items, an estimated duration for the craft and a picture on the opposite page showing the finished product as inspiration. If there’s a crafty kid in your house, this book will be well used.
Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond, B.C. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.
The Shabbat Project brought hundreds out to bake challah, celebrate Shabbat and dance over three nights, Oct. 23-25. (photo by Alan Katowitz)
Oct. 23 saw more than 400 people make Vancouver history by participating in its first community-wide challah bake. The event served as the springboard for the Shabbat Project (also known as the Shabbos Project), an initiative spearheaded last year by South Africa’s chief rabbi, Dr. Warren Goldstein, in an attempt to unite his community through the practice of keeping one Shabbat together.
It’s a disarmingly simple concept. By experiencing the magic of Shabbat just once, we can rejuvenate family and community life, restore Jewish pride and identity, and build Jewish unity across the world. The international event this year exceeded all expectations, uniting Jews in more than 461 cities in 65 countries.
Taking place over the Shabbat weekend of Oct. 24-25, the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver served as the venue for the local celebrations. The inaugural challah bake yielded several hundred beautifully braided challot. And hundreds celebrated Shabbat, many of them for the fist time. People set up tents and invited others to join them for meals and/or the whole Shabbat. Different organizations facilitated community meals and programs throughout.
“Once I had lit the candles, I felt an amazing wave of peace,” said participant Barbara Weinberg. “Although at first I did miss that cellphone, we started playing board games and actually it was rather nice to be off the grid. In fact, after Havdalah, I felt reluctant to turn everything on! My daughter particularly enjoyed it, as she said that she liked that we spent so much time doing things together.”
The closing event – a Havdalah concert – brought a capacity crowd to the JCCGV auditorium for a night of music, dance and Jewish celebration. Moshe Hecht and his band, from New York, kept the energy and excitement going way past the official end time. A perfect end to an amazing Shabbat.
This year’s Rosh Hashanah cover featured a photographer by Saanich-based biologist Leah Ramsay (leaningoaks.ca).
Domestic honeybees, like this one, were introduced to the east coast of North America from Europe in 1622. Aided by settlers, it took a couple hundred years before they reached the West Coast. Today, they are found across the continent, with both domestic and feral populations. There are estimates that up to 80 percent of all crops in North America are dependent on bee pollination – both the honey and the apples eaten during Rosh Hashanah are dependent on bees for their production, plus multitudes of other food and forage crops. The other species in the photo is the annual plant, Sea Blush. It is a native wildflower that grows in meadows on the West Coast and produces carpets of pink in the spring. They are often alive with the introduced honeybee and native bumble bees.
It’s the children, at first, that inspire awe, the infants now walking, the toddlers talking, the grade schoolers freshly combed and pressed, the high schoolers immense, the college students all but unrecognizable in their newfound sophistication. The brief span of 12 months has metamorphosed them all. They enter the sanctuary this Rosh Hashanah morning with an eye to audience and reunion, conscious, as at few other times, of their own growth and maturity, the oldest children flanking their parents with an air of independence, the slick-haired sons towering over balding fathers, the bejeweled daughters as carefully coifed and clothed as their mothers, all proud of what they have become.
Change is everywhere: new siblings sit wedged between the old, once-single adults arrive partnered, young wives enter expectant, older couples return fractured, cleaved in twain by death or divorce. Gravity exerts its inexorable pull upon the bowed backs of the oldest congregants; the cast of many a head has grown silver; chins have sprouted beards, foreheads become more deeply furrowed, eyes less acute.
I sit among my own altered children marveling at this tidal wave of transformation passing through our midst, hoisting some as it submerges others, bearing all of us, inexorably, toward eternity. From day to day, the alchemy of aging goes unremarked, even as our children molt before our eyes. We are not meant to be conscious of every instant of change, preferring not to be reminded of the mortality and uncertainty it implies. We seek instead a reassuring constancy, a routine that grounds and sustains us, though we know our time here is all too finite, that even as we feel most anchored, we are slowly, imperceptibly, drifting out to sea. The image in today’s mirror looks no different than the one that greeted us yesterday. But a snapshot of that face a year hence tells a very different tale.
And those snapshots are what we carry with us as we enter the synagogue these High Holy Days and stare in amazement at the undeniable alteration a single year has wrought upon the familiar landscape of family and friends. It is both exhilarating and alarming, and it, more than the prayers we have come together to recite, prepares us for these Days of Awe, this personal accounting of conduct and intention, impulse and resolve.
The prospect is daunting as we join our kinsfolk and face squarely into the probing light of conscience. There is no interlocutor but the self, and perhaps no other judge. We arraign ourselves before a court of inquiry, concede doubt and weakness, ask for certainty and strength, then render judgment, emerging chastened, cleansed, perhaps annealed. We give thanks for blessings and acknowledge the fragility of our contentments, knowing that tomorrow may challenge our every conviction, undermine our serenity, rob us of everything we hold dear.
And, as we sit side by side, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, parents and children, we discover portals to conciliation where perhaps only provocation and resistance prevailed. We rediscover tenderness and vulnerability and the myriad contradictions of our humanness. Against a backdrop of responsive prayer, we reflect upon the great challenges of parenting, on marriage’s call to remain emotionally committed, on the biblical injunction to honor our aging and increasingly infirm parents. We recite the liturgy of awe – admissions of frailty and failure, entreaties for greater understanding, for strength, for forgiveness. The gnawing hunger of Yom Kippur afternoon begins in the murmuring mouth of Rosh Hashanah, as we empty the casks of self-justification, discarding great stores of blind self-interest, and live for a time consuming nothing but the thought of our own imperfection.
And yet … while these Days of Awe clarify and distil us, they cannot sustain us. We are not cloistered contemplatives; we require a richer diet, one free of the astringent bite of continuous self-scrutiny. We need to live, to test our resolve. The gates will close, the great accounting will conclude for another year, and we will turn back to life renewed by these days of honest soul-searching, passing from assessment to action.
As the final song is sung, I turn to my family, wondering what has passed through their hearts during these hours of prayer. My son seems wrung out by so much stasis, eager to shed his confining clothes, grab a basketball and burst back into the light. My daughters yearn for the disembodied voices of friends, silver cellphones shimmering in their restless hands. My wife looks upon them with gratitude, awakening anew to the miracle of their presence in our lives, their youth, their beauty, their remarkable growth. She kisses each cheek, then takes my face in her hands and murmurs, “L’shana tova.”
May it be so for us all.
Steven Schnur, a member of Westchester Reform Temple in Scarsdale, N.Y., teaches writing at Sarah Lawrence College. This article was originally published in Reform Judaism magazine, and can be found at reformjudaism.org/these-days-awe. It is reprinted with permission.
Carrots represent the hope that Israel’s enemies will be “cut off,” or kept away. (photo by Stephen Ausmus / USARS via en.wikipedia.org)
Most Jews, religious or not, celebrate Passover, opening the holiday with a seder – fewer know that a seder is held on Rosh Hashanah, too. Being the year’s first meal, it gains higher importance in Jewish tradition and, therefore, should be special.
In the seder of Rosh Hashanah, a dedicated prayer is said, then a meal with symbolic foods is served, each food representing a different blessing for the people of Israel. Some of these foods have a unique prayer that is said prior to eating them. These foods differ slightly between communities, yet some are common, and are served on both religious and secular tables.
As some of the seder foods may stand for similar blessings, not all of them have been preserved among secular Jews. The most common traditional food served at Rosh Hashanah is an apple, dipped in honey; this custom represents a blessing for the year to be as sweet as honey. Gefilte fish is also served, usually having slightly sweet flavor, for the procreation of the people of Israel like the propagation of fish. On the gefilte fish, sliced carrots are placed, a symbol for Israel’s enemies to be “cut off.”
A fish head is displayed/served, symbolizing a blessing for the people of Israel to be the head and not the tail. This blessing has two meanings: (a) we will be the thinkers, the inventors; (b) we will gain leadership by moving forward, following our own will; not backwards, following other peoples’ will.
Sometimes, a beet or beet leaves are served for the removal of Israel’s enemies. A pomegranate is served, its many seeds symbolic of the many mitzvot that the Jewish people have and hope to continue to have.
Although linguistically not necessarily related historically, some of the foods are traditionally linked to their blessings by their Hebrew roots: the carrots placed on the gefilte fish are called gezer (pl. gzarim, root gzr) in Hebrew. The blessing of cutting off Israel’s enemies that is symbolized by the carrots makes use of the root gzr: “sheig az ru oyveynu,” “let our enemies be cut off.” The beet (leaves) is selek (root: slk); the related blessing: “she-is talku oyveynu ve-son’eynu,” “let our enemies and haters be gone,” is also represented by the same root slk, “remove.”
Other traditional foods either make use of a semantic feature of the original notion, or they have undergone a semantic shift to adapt to the holiday’s blessings. For example, we use the feature of quantity of the schools of fish for the parallel blessing: “shenifre ve-nirbe ke-dagim,” “let us procreate [literally: be fruitful and multiply] as fish.”
The fish head represents the brain, as well as the mind, which spiritually lies in the brain, and leadership, by being the head, the first in everything. This word gains a double meaning, as it appears in the name of the holiday, Rosh Hashanah, as well as in rishon, “first,” derived from rosh, “head.”
I wrote down some of these thoughts from my home shelter during the war. Let us hope to be blessed in the future with real rimonim (pomegranates’ fruit), and not rimone-yad (hand grenade). Let us bless southern Israeli fishermen to be able to continue fishing, and farmers to be able to continue selling their honey, carrots and beets, so that all of us can have a peaceful Rosh Hashanah seder. Happy New Year.
Nurit Dekelis an independent academic researcher of colloquial Israeli Hebrew, and principal linguist at NSC-Natural Speech Communication; author of Colloquial Israeli Hebrew: A Corpus-based Survey. She is based in southern Israel.
Fish is a traditional part of the Rosh Hashanah meal. Since Rosh Hashanah translates literally as “Head of the Year,” some people will eat the head of a fish as part of the holiday meal, or at least have one on their holiday table. Fish is also a symbol of fertility and prosperity.
Today, we will make a beautiful fish from Plasticine. While you won’t be able to eat it, you can add it to the table with other symbols of the holiday.
For this art project, you will need various colors of Plasticine or Play Doh.
1. First, we make the body of the fish. Roll a small ball from blue Plasticine.
2. Flatten the ball with the palm of your hand and flip onto the other side.
3. With the tip of your fingers, gently raise the edges on both sides.
4. Now make a top fin. You will need three small pieces of dark blue or purple Plasticine. Using a toothpick, attach the top fin to the body of the fish.
5. Use yellow Plasticine to make a bottom fin.
6. Add an orange fin on top of the yellow one.
7. With the help of a toothpick, make an indent for the mouth. Later, using pink Plasticine, create heart-shaped lips. Attach the lips to the body.
8. Using white and black Plasticine assemble an eye, and add it to what you’ve already put together.
9. Our fish is almost ready! We just need to add scales. Make a small green ball and flatten it. Add this newly formed circle to the body. Now, create many of these circles and decorate your fish with beautiful and colorful scales.
Instead of circles, you may create stripes or any other unique designs – and, of course, you can use any colors you want for any part of your fish. Art is a soul’s expression. Imagine, inspire, innovate!
Happy New Year to all young readers and their parents! Curly Orli and I wish you a year full of happiness and joy!
Lana Lagooncais a graphic designer, author and illustrator. At curlyorli.com, there are more free lessons, along with information about Curly Orli merchandise.
The tuna salad recipe is one of Lynn Kirsche Shapiro’s mother’s most popular recipes. (photo by Nick Ulivieri Photography)
The first section of Food, Family and Tradition: Hungarian Kosher Family Recipes and Remembrances (Cherry Press, 2013) is a family album, which Lynn Kirsche Shapiro says is her way of completing two unfinished legacies: “my mother’s recipes and my father’s autobiography.”
Her mother went blind at age 75 and Shapiro viewed the project of compiling her recipes as a tangible tribute to her mother’s contribution to the lives of her family and others. Her father was in the process of writing his life story when he died at the age of 81.
“After beginning the book, I understood that my family’s recipes and history were part of a larger world: the traditional Jewish life in Czechoslovakia and Hungary before the Holocaust,” Shapiro writes. “Many books have been written to educate others, to bear witness to the events and atrocities of the Holocaust. My book also attempts to get the picture of the richness of Jewish life in Eastern Europe prior to the Holocaust. Strong family traditions were the bedrock on which our parents, and so many of the Holocaust survivors, were raised. It is because of this strong family bond, deep tradition and unwavering faith that our parents were able to live again, to build a family and to contribute to the future.”
Shapiro’s father, Sandor Kirsche (Shalom Kirschenbaum) was born in a village in Carpathian Czechoslovakia. His family ran a small grocery store in their home. Barely surviving Buchenwald, he returned to his hometown of Hlyuboka, where he found his remaining two sisters who, along with Sandor and an aunt and uncle, were the only five remaining from 38 family members. A ship he had planned to take to Palestine was canceled and he soon after met Margit Weisz. They married in 1947 and moved to Chicago. There, Sandor worked in retail foods and, in 1973, opened an all-kosher supermarket that thrives today.
Margit was born in Gergely, Hungary. In 1944, on the last day of Passover, word came that the Nazis were to evacuate the Jews the next day. Her family hired non-Jews to drive them in wagons away in the night, but they were caught. They were sent first to a ghetto and then most of the family was killed in Auschwitz. Shapiro’s mother was sent to a subcamp of Buchenwald, where she worked with 250 other women preparing wooden crates and making ammunition. After liberation, she discovered that a brother had survived, alone among their large family. Meeting Sandor shortly after liberation, the family story takes an uplifting turn as their American dream becomes real.
The recipes in the book are not really innovative. Many of them, like the ones included here, which have been proven in one of the Jewish Independent “test kitchens,” are superb in part because of their simplicity. While East European cuisine generally, and its Jewish form specifically, certainly have dishes that are set apart from others as emblematic of major celebrations, they emphatically avoid fancy-schmancy trends so common today. This is probably why recipes like these last generations.
The book, in fact, has a litany of the classics of Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine: chopped chicken liver, gefilte fish, chopped herring, stuffed cabbage, borscht, potato soup, chicken soup, of course, blintzes, kugel, boiled fish, schmaltz, cholent, goulash, brisket, tzimmes, beet salad, latkes, kasha, and a litany of baking from challah to dumplings and honey cake.
While these recipes are fitting for the High Holidays, you might want to put them aside (the ones with oil, at least) for Chanukah as well.
SWEET AND SOUR CABBAGE SOUP WITH MEAT Traditional Hungarians cooked cabbage in a variety of ways. Here is a rich and tasty sweet and sour cabbage soup, with the deep flavor of meat. I like to cook it for a few hours to develop a flavor. For a sweeter taste, add raisins. I always do.
1 to 2 tbsp vegetable oil 1 1/2 to 2 lbs short ribs, cut into large chunks 1 medium onion, diced 1 medium head cabbage, cored, cut into small squares or shredded 1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes quartered or one (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes 1 cup tomato sauce 1/2 tbsp lemon juice 1/3 cup sugar 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper 1 tsp salt 1/3 cup dark or golden raisins, optional
In an eight-quart pot over medium-high heat, heat oil. Brown short ribs with onions, turning so ribs brown on all sides. Decrease heat to low, cover tightly and steam until meat is tender, about 30 minutes to one hour.
Add the cabbage, the tomatoes together with their juice, and the remainder of ingredients to the meat, including raisins if using. Add six cups of water. Bring to a boil, decrease heat to low and simmer, covered, until the cabbage and the meat are both tender, about one hour. Taste and adjust seasonings. For a richer flavor, cook an additional 30 minutes to one hour.
Serve ladled into heated bowls. Makes eight to 10 (eight-ounce) servings.
TUNA SALAD This tuna salad is one of my mother’s most popular recipes, and we have been told that nobody’s tuna salad is as tasty. It is simple but it has its secrets. One is the grated egg; another is the oil-packed tuna. You can substitute water-packed tuna if you want a lighter salad, but the depth of flavor will not be quite the same.
1 (12-ounce) can or 2 (5-ounce) cans oil packed tuna, well-drained 3 hard-boiled eggs, shelled 1/4 cup minced onion 1 stalk celery, very finely chopped 1/3 to 1/2 cup mayonnaise
Place tuna in a medium bowl and mash with a fork. Grate the egg and add to the tuna, stirring to mix. Add the onion and celery, and mix well with the mayonnaise. Cover and refrigerate for up to three days. Makes four servings.
CHICKEN SCHNITZEL Schnitzel is authentically European, whether veal or chicken. My mother’s chicken schnitzel is special. She debones her own white meat from the chicken, then slices it thin and pounds it to about 1/4-inch uniform thickness. Also, she uses fresh breadcrumbs for the breading. Pounding the chicken breasts uniformly thin allows them to cook faster and more evenly. For added flavor, I often mix breadcrumbs with cornflake crumbs, half and half.
6 to 8 boneless skinless chicken breast halves, about 2 pounds 1 cup flour 1 tsp seasoned salt 1/2 tsp sweet Hungarian paprika 1/4 tsp garlic powder 1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper 2 eggs, beaten, mixed with 1 tbsp water 1 cup fresh breadcrumbs, or 1/2 cup fresh breadcrumbs and 1/2 cup cornflake crumbs vegetable oil for frying, as needed
Slice each chicken breast in half horizontally. Cover each piece with plastic wrap. Using a meat mallet or rolling pin, pound chicken breasts to an even thickness of 1/4 inch. Some tears are OK; even thickness is the most important step.
Place flour and seasonings in one shallow bowl; stir to mix. Place egg and crumbs into additional separate shallow bowls.
Dip each chicken piece first in flour, then egg and then the crumb mixture. Transfer to a tray or plate and repeat until all chicken is breaded.
In a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat, heat oil as needed. Fry schnitzel on each side, in batches, turning once, until golden brown and cooked through, about five minutes for each side.
Serve immediately or transfer to a parchment-lined baking pan and keep warm in a 250°F oven. Serve on individual plates with vegetables and potatoes or rice of choice. Makes eight servings.
FRIED CAULIFLOWER This is crispy and best prepared in a deep fryer. For a lighter, healthier choice, oven bake it on a cookie sheet.
oil, as needed, for deep frying 1 cup bread crumbs, preferably from challah, or 1 cup cornflake crumbs [the Independent used Panko, with great results] 1/4 tsp salt 1/4 tsp sweet Hungarian paprika 1/8 tsp freshly ground black pepper 1 cup flour 2 eggs, beaten 1 large head cauliflower, separated into florets
If frying, preheat the oil to 350°F in a deep fryer or deep pot. Season breadcrumbs or cornflake crumbs with the salt, paprika and pepper.
In three separate shallow dishes, place flour, eggs and crumbs.
Dip the cauliflower florets first in the flour, next the eggs, and then the breadcrumbs. Fry in batches in the deep fryer, drain on paper towels.
Alternatively, preheat oven to 400°F. Place breaded cauliflower florets on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet sprayed with nonstick cooking spray, and bake until crisp and brown, about 20 minutes, turning the pan once in oven.
Makes eight servings.
CUCUMBER SALAD, UKORKASALATA
Cucumbers were readily available in Hungary and Czechoslovakia from spring through summer, making ukorkasaláta a classic salad during the season, light and refreshing, perfect for a summer meal. My husband, Irv, likes to serve it as an accompaniment to grilled steak; it balances the richness of the beef. The vinegar and the salt are preservatives, allowing the salad to keep, refrigerated, for a week. Of course, as my mother says, “At home, we never worried about the refrigeration because it never lasted too long – it was all eaten up quickly.” It is best prepared in advance, so the cucumbers have a slightly pickled flavored.
2 large seedless cucumbers (about 1 1/2 pounds), skin on, sliced paper thin one medium onion, sliced paper thin 1 heaping tbsp salt 1/3 cup water 1/3 cup sugar 1/3 cup white vinegar
Place the cucumbers and the onions in a medium bowl and toss with the salt. Let stand for one hour. Transfer to a colander and drain. Place plastic wrap on top and press down to extract the maximum liquid. Transfer drained cucumber onion mixture to a nonreactive bowl. Reserve.
In a small bowl, place water, sugar and vinegar, and whisk to dissolve sugar. Pour this marinade over the cucumber and onions. Cover and refrigerate, for up to one week.
From Sybil Kaplan: A couple of years ago, I discovered clafouti, the French dessert of fruit, covered with a batter, baked and served warm. What I loved most was that it was good year around, it could be made pareve and it looked elegant.
MASTER CLAFOUTI Works for peaches, plums, nectarines, cherries, pumpkin, pears, apples. Makes six to eight servings.
1 cup non-dairy creamer or pareve whipping cream (with/without sugar) 1/3 cup sugar (or substitute) 4 large eggs 1 tbsp vanilla 1/2 cup flour
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter a baking dish or deep glass pie plate. Place non-dairy creamer, sugar, eggs, vanilla and flour in a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Place fruit overlapping in bottom of baking dish. Pour batter on top. Bake 30-40 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.
APPLE CLAFOUTI 6 apples 1 cup non-dairy creamer or pareve whipping cream 1 tbsp brandy 1/4 cup raisins 4 eggs 1 tbsp vanilla 1/2 cup flour
Follow directions for master clafouti. Makes six servings.
CLAFOUTI WITH PEACHES 6 large sliced peaches 2 1/4 cups non-dairy creamer or whipping cream 3 eggs 3 egg yolks 1 1/2 tsp vanilla 6 tbsp sugar cinnamon
Grease baking dish. Preheat oven to 350°F. Place peach slices in baking dish. Whisk together non-dairy creamer, eggs, egg yolks, vanilla, sugar. Pour over peaches. Sprinkle on cinnamon. Bake 30-40 minutes until knife inserted in centre comes out clean. Makes six servings.
From Esther Tauby: This is a Rosh Hashanah cake that my Aunt Rose made up and my mother always makes for the holidays – as do I. Enjoy!
PLUM CAKE 2 cups flour
1 1/2 cups sugar 1/2 cup oil 3 eggs 2 tsp baking powder 1/2 cup water 1 tsp vanilla 6-8 prune plums pinch of salt
Cream oil and sugar. Add eggs, beat well. Add flour, baking powder, salt, then vanilla. Use Pam or cover nine-by-13 cake pan with foil or parchment. Pour in half the batter. Cut plums in half lengthwise, place face down in batter. Cover with rest of batter. Bake at 325°F until golden brown, about 30 minutes.