baking

Recipes not always required

Were you part of the pandemic sourdough bread baking craze? I’ve been baking bread for around 40 years, but I’m not a sourdough baker. Maintaining the starter was something I couldn’t manage. Although I’ve made many kinds of bread, including weekly challah (twin teens eat a lot!), I found using store-bought yeast was fine. Besides, my biology professor husband disliked the colourful, dangerous things he saw growing when I tried to maintain a starter long ago. He supports our bread habit as we buy one pound of dried yeast at a time.

My approach isn’t exact. However, I produce bread that rises and tastes good even without a recipe. I don’t use all the technical terms that I saw on the internet during the pandemic bread-baking phase. I stick to basic ingredients and easy methods. Bakers have used these successfully for thousands of years.

All this seemed familiar when I started studying the Babylonian tractate of Menachot. Menachot delves into the exact ways the rabbis thought meal (grain) offerings should be measured, cooked, burnt and sacrificed in the Temple in Jerusalem. The rabbis who discussed this mostly lived long after the Temple was destroyed. They’d never seen Temple offerings but they still discussed detailed recipes and techniques for proper sacrifice.

I remember the many online discussions about sourdough science. These were often people who, while baking beautiful pandemic sourdough, had never made bread previously, as I had. Of course, all of us would be shamed before our ancestors who, using a wooden bowl ripe with wild yeast, turned out bread consistently, day in and day out, to feed their families.

You might think, well, this isn’t for me if I don’t bake bread. Perhaps you never have worried about the ancient grain offerings in Jerusalem, or the “shrewbread” that became our modern equivalent, challah. All these discussions came to a head in Menachot, page 18a.

A question arises about whether a specific offering is fit (acceptable) and why. First, we learn about a meaningful teacher-student relationship between Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua and Yosef the Babylonian.

Yosef the Babylonian learns something from Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua that doesn’t seem entirely right to him. He questions his teacher several times. After multiple repetitions of a simple answer, Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua finally gives Yosef the Babylonian more information. He recalls another contradictory teaching from Rabbi Eliezer that agrees with what Yosef the Babylonian remembers.

Yosef the Babylonian erupts in joy. Both men are emotional, moved by the experience they’ve had, where careful analysis brings them important understanding and resolution. Yosef the Babylonian is relieved – he had worried that what he’d remembered was a mistake because he couldn’t find anyone else who recalled what Rabbi Eliezer had taught. Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua cries, filled with wonder. They celebrate Torah study, which maintains an intellectual genealogy of teachers and students by the historic transmission of knowledge. It’s a careful recounting of discussion and disputes, rather than just a simple, reflexive answer.

Menachot 18a, like bread-baking, shows that, if we get bogged down in the technical details, we can also be swept up in the transformation that occurs when we get everything – that we study or bake – right. This story is about mistakes, forgetting, misinformation and complex opinions. This tractate might describe how to do defunct sacrifice recipes correctly. It’s also about how we transmit important knowledge. We need to keep the facts straight, without forgetting anything, and synthesize complex opinions.

This is relevant today. We’re struggling daily to keep track of what’s happening in the world. Is it legal? Is it ethical? How does it affect us? In an age of “instant” information, diminished international reporting, social media disinformation campaigns and simplistic interpretations, it’s no wonder that we need to work hard to figure out what’s happening. It’s just as important now to do one’s own footwork. We must ask questions and analyze information carefully, just as when Yosef the Babylonian sat with his teacher, Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua, sometime between 135 and 170 CE.

We can get swept up in the technical aspects of our lives, whether it’s sourdough baking or legal proceedings. Yet, we also have that practical compass that guides us. I know intuitively, after decades of practice, how to throw together flour, salt, water and yeast, when to add sweetness, oil or eggs, and why. It’s a gut feeling, as deep as my internal moral compass that reacts when I see something wrong happening. Perhaps it’s how Judaism, my family or my community has shaped me, just as environment shapes all of us. Perhaps it’s an innate sense of the worth of each human being, as we are made in the image of the Divine. We know when things are going off the rails, and when we need to keep asking the hard questions to make change.

You could infer that all this refers to the current US upheaval, but it also relates to many other issues. For instance, at home, recent research found that Canadian Jews weren’t wrong about the CBC’s bias in reporting on the Israel-Hamas war. Statistical analysis indicates that yes, headlines, interviewer choices and perspectives lacked objectivity. If you, like me, questioned the CBC’s reporting over the last two years, just like Yosef questioned Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua, this information is reassuring.

Farther away, Israelis care passionately about democracy. Israelis ask their government tough questions, including protesting its poor record in protecting Arab citizens and its failure to provide a sufficient inquiry concerning Oct. 7. Regarding Iran’s upheaval, the Islamic regime’s repression means protesters risk murder, injury, torture and rape. Brave questioning of authority and pursuit of truthful information aren’t specific to one culture or country.

Yosef the Babylonian doubted himself. He repeatedly nudged his teacher. He worried that he’d made a mistake, but then bravely sought clarity to understand the bigger picture. We, too, can be so persistent that authority figures, like our teachers and government officials, must answer with thorough responses. Let’s not get bogged down in the technical details. It’s not whether you say that your bread dough rests, or uses an autolyze. Rather, listen to your gut. Go for the big questions. Think hard. Act to take the moral high ground. We all deserve something better. Let’s hope soon to break bread together, in peace and safety, with emotional, deep discussions.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

My new best friend is Red

The author made RecipeTin’s Quick and Dirty Focaccia using her hands, giving her new best friend, Red, the night off. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

News flash: diamonds are not a girl’s best friend. They’re certainly a welcome acquaintance, but are they always there when you need them? No. Sometimes, they’re hiding out in a safety deposit box. I have something better than diamonds – a new BFF. And her name is Red. Full name: KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer in Empire Red. She’s the culinary equivalent of an Alfa Romeo convertible. Let me put my gushing admiration of her in context with this bit of background info.

I am on the cusp of turning 70 and my sweet husband thoughtfully and preemptively bought me something I’ve thought about for a long time: a KitchenAid stand mixer. I know, I know, who doesn’t already own a KitchenAid stand mixer? Me, that’s who. And it’s not for lack of encouragement on Harvey’s part. I have, for the better part of the last 50 years, always used an entry-level electric hand mixer. And it’s served me just fine. Mostly. Until the motor blew on my original Sunbeam, circa 2000.

Reluctantly, I transitioned to a KitchenAid electric hand mixer and, while flashy, it was not nearly as powerful as my good old $20 Sunbeam. It wasn’t bad. It was just a bit too delicate for my baking needs. I required something that could take a licking and keep on ticking. Sort of like a Timex, the kind they strapped onto the propeller of an outboard motor and dragged through a lake by a speedboat. And, if you remember that commercial, you are officially ancient. (You’re in good company though.) Realistically, a hand mixer has got to be able to go mano a mano with a good, stiff cookie dough. If it can’t manage that without slowing down and making weird noises, it’s not worth its weight in salt.

photo - KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer in Empire Red – aka Red — KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer in Empire Red – aka Red. *(photo by Shelley Civkin)*

But I no longer have those worries. I have Red. Since receiving this early birthday present, I have made dozens of cookies, countless cakes, muffins and meatballs. I must admit that the wire whisk still scares me a bit, but I’m certain I’ll warm up to it over time.

Like those people whose gardens get overrun by zucchini and end up going around at night dropping off bags of them on people’s doorsteps, I, too, am sharing. My new condo neighbour, Nancy, is the cheerful recipient of my KitchenAid labours of love. Especially the cookie variety. Turns out, it’s a great way to make friends. I mean, who doesn’t love free cookies on the regular?

I recently had a craving for focaccia, but gave my KitchenAid the day off and made Quick and Dirty Focaccia by hand (recipe courtesy of Instagram by RecipeTin). The recipe made a small batch, which saved me from over-indulging. Full disclosure: I have no self-control when it comes to fresh, warm focaccia. This was unlike any other focaccia I’ve ever made, though. Apparently, it’s all the rage on Instagram.

I wasn’t used to working with a wet, jiggly dough, but that’s the ticket to a legit fluffy focaccia. Other recipes I found called for the stretch-and-fold method, but I didn’t employ that here. It does look like a great way to get lots of air bubbles in the final product, but my batch of dough was small and didn’t really require it. I will definitely try that next time I make a bigger batch of dough.

QUICK & DIRTY FOCACCIA

2 cups bread flour
1 1/8 tsp instant yeast
3/4 tsp kosher salt
1 cup plus 2 tbsp very warm water
1 1/2 tbsp olive oil
1/4 tsp (heaping) sea salt flakes or kosher salt
kalamata olives, rosemary or za’atar (optional)

Preheat oven to 425˚F. Mix flour, yeast and salt. Make a well and pour in water and mix. Cover with plastic wrap and rise in a warm place for 2 hours, until doubled in size. The dough will be very wet and jiggly.

Generously grease a 10.5” x 8” x 2” metal or glass pan with oil. Press a scrunched-up piece of parchment paper into the pan and leave an overhang. Drizzle the parchment paper generously with olive oil, too. (Scrunching the parchment ensures that it will lay flat and that the dough will get into every crevice of the pan.)

Scrape the focaccia batter into the pan. Do not punch or deflate the dough beforehand. Coax it into the corners with your oiled fingers as best you can. Cover with something heavy (a cast-iron pan or cutting board) and leave it to rise by 50% (about 45 minutes).

Drizzle olive oil on the surface of the dough and spread it with your oiled fingers. Dimple the dough vigorously with your fingers and sprinkle with the sea salt and any other toppings you like (optional, but think kalamata olives, rosemary, za’atar, etc.).

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, rotating the pan after 15 minutes. Cool on a rack for about 10 minutes.

It should turn out crunchy on top, but airy and fluffy on the inside, perfect for dipping in a plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. It’s a quick and easy way to elevate a meal and makes a nice between-meals snack or sandwich. And, of course, you can’t overlook the therapeutic benefits of getting your fingers all oily and your nails all full of dough. If you’re someone who doesn’t like to get down and dirty when you bake, then this isn’t for you. I, however, am a full-contact baker.

I make a more traditional focaccia where kneading is required, and it’s made in a cast-iron fry pan, but it’s an altogether different process. The end results are different, for sure, so it’s really a matter of taste. Either way you cut it, focaccia is delicious and lends itself to all sorts of varieties and toppings. Believe it or not, I’ve seen a recipe for chocolate focaccia, but that’s a bit too out there even for me. Enjoy your bread and be sure to share.

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.

Sesame’s breadth and depth

I made my wife a rockstar carrot cake for her birthday last week. Thanks to the JCC Jewish Book Festival, I received a review copy of Sesame: Global Recipes & Stories of an Ancient Seed by Rachel Simons, which features a unique take on one of my wife’s favourite desserts. The Tahini Cream Cheese Frosting with Carrot Cake & Seed Brittle was a hit – as was every other recipe I tried from the book. Everything I made looked beautiful and tasted great.

New York-based Simons, founder of Seed + Mill, the first store in the United States to focus solely on sesame products, will be in Vancouver for a JBF pre-festival event Feb. 8, 7 p.m. Tickets are $20. (Go to jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.)

Simons seems delightful, with a passion for gardening, family, travel and being an entrepreneur. In Sesame, she shares some of her background, what led her to become an expert in all things sesame – the seed, oil and paste (tahini). We also learn a bit about the history of sesame and tahini. There are 80-plus recipes, ranging in complexity, most accompanied by a brief introduction. The whole presentation is appealing: the book’s layout, the feel of its pages, the photography by Alan Benson and illustrations by Evelina Edens; credit is given to Maren Ellingboe King for some of the text.

Just before the recipe section, Simons notes how hard it was for her to write many of the recipes, as she tends not to follow recipes herself, and cooks more “by instinct and with lots of practice.” This is an important note because newbie cooks might have to Google pieces of information like how long it takes to bake a cake at 350˚F, because Simons doesn’t give any baseline, just writes “bake until a skewer … comes out clean.” Even with Google and Simons’ advice, I slightly undercooked my cakes. Yes, cakes. Somehow, though I’m positive I followed the recipe to a tee and the cake we ate tasted amazing, I had twice as much batter as I was supposed to have. (I froze the second cake.)

There were other, smaller surprises with each recipe. And every recipe took me longer to make than indicated. I often find that with cookbooks though – if I were to rinse and de-leaf my cilantro, parsley, etc., chop all the nuts, etc., in advance, then maybe I could make something within the allotted time, but instead I plan for it to take two to three times as long as suggested.

On the day I made the carrot cake, I wanted to leave as much guilt-free room as possible, so made the Thai-Inspired Tahini, Lime & Broccoli Salad. It was full of flavour, seasoned with tahini and lime, as per its name, as well as soy sauce, hot honey for a bit of bite, garlic, lots of cilantro and mint for freshness, peanuts and sesame seeds for protein and texture.

The next day, we had friends over and served Pistachio and Whipped Feta, with veggies and pita bread, as an appy. A couple of tablespoons of tahini, a bunch of cilantro, plus lemon juice and, especially, lemon zest made this dip disappear quickly.

Birthday day started with An Indulgent Middle Eastern Breakfast Toast, which was all its name promised. I couldn’t find labneh, so substituted in pressed yogurt. While the recipe said the sprinkle of Sweet Dukkah was optional, I’d argue it’s essential. All together, this rich, tangy, toasted, sweet treat demanded a second serving.

In all this cooking, I’ve stained several pages of Sesame and will, no doubt, stain others, as this book becomes one of my staples. I’ve already made a few other things that are not included here for space reasons, not taste reasons. It’s all yum.

AN INDULGENT MIDDLE EASTERN BREAKFAST TOAST
(serves one)

1 thick slice sourdough bread
1 tbsp labneh
1 to 2 tbsp tahini
1 tbsp honey or date syrup
1/8 tsp flaky salt
Shake of Sweet Dukkah (recipe below)

Toast the bread or leave it fresh, depending on your preference. Spread the labneh on the bread, then drizzle with the tahini and honey and finish with the flaky salt and Sweet Dukkah (if using). Serve immediately.

SWEET DUKKAH
(makes about 2.5 cups)

1 cup sesame seeds
1/2 cup pistachios, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup almonds, coarsely chopped
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp flaky salt
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
2 tbsp edible dried rose petals (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 375˚F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. Spread the sesame seeds, pistachios and almonds on the baking sheet. Sprinkle with the cinnamon, cardamom and salt and toss to evenly combine.

3. Bake for 6 minutes, then give the baking sheet a vigorous shake to move the nuts and seeds around. Add the coconut and shake the sheet again. Return the mixture to the oven and bake until the coconut has turned golden brown, 4 to 6 minutes. Check regularly to make sure the dukkah isn’t burning.

4. Cool the dukkah completely on the pan before adding the rose petals (if using). Store in an airtight container in the pantry for up to two months.

Improving the holiday table

These latkes can be made vegan, gluten-free and with reduced oil – or not. (photo by Michelle Dodek)

They tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat. This refrain encapsulates how Jews celebrate a number of holidays and view our tumultuous history. In September, Congregation Beth Israel hosted a three-part High Holiday Cooking series. It was so popular that classes have been scheduled throughout the coming months to coincide with various holidays. Luckily for those who like to learn new cooking techniques and the history and symbolism behind Jewish food, there are plenty of holidays between now and the end of May.

First on the list is Hanukkah. Associated with oil, this winter holiday is a chance for Greater Vancouver Jews to throw off the shackles of green smoothies and embrace greasy carbs, for religious reasons.

The central event celebrated at Hanukkah is the liberation of the Temple in Jerusalem from the Seleucid Greeks, who had conquered the land of Israel and were attempting to forcibly convert all Jews. These events took place after the biblical era, so Hanukkah is not one of the holy days mentioned in the Torah. It is recorded in the Books of Maccabees.

Although not so religiously significant, Hanukkah is one of the most popular Jewish holidays, especially in North America. It’s dark outside and lighting candles to illuminate the darkness both literally and figuratively is cheering. In modern times, the heroic story of the small band of Jewish rebels taking on a mighty army and winning is especially poignant, given the many struggles facing the tiny modern state of Israel. And, let’s face it, having a fun Jewish foil to Christmas is helpful.

There is no requirement to refrain from work during Hanukkah, as there is for many other Jewish holidays. To accompany the week-plus of nightly candlelighting, we have special foods. Potato latkes are the most recognizable on the Ashkenazi menu, but rugelach are also traditionally prepared for Hanukkah. Why? The three ingredients in the dough are flour, butter and cream cheese. Lots of fat. Yum.

Sephardi and Mizrachi Jews connect the culinary dots much more succinctly. Sfinge is a delicious Moroccan free-form, deep-fried dough eaten on Hanukkah. Filled donuts, known widely as sufganiyot, have been part of Sephardi and Mizrachi traditions as well. Popularized in Israel by the Labour government in the 1950s, the making of donuts for Hanukkah was the tastiest of many job creation projects for Israel’s struggling economy. Although it was seasonal, encouraging bakeries to hire extra staff in November and December to fry up holiday cheer resulted in a national culture of amazingly tasty filled donuts.

The Dec. 2 Hanukkah cooking class at the BI was dedicated to helping people make out-of-the-box latkes with interesting toppings, as well as a couple of desserts that don’t require a pot of deep-frying oil. While the recipe for rugelach is simple, technique is needed to get the flakiest dough. There is a lot of room for creativity in the filling, but not everything will be a success, so spread thinly if you plan to try out the recipe below and see if your idea works first before producing a huge batch.

For more “Kitchen Judaism,” watch for other holiday cooking classes at Beth Israel. Classes will include Tu b’Shevat Temptations; Stuffed for Purim, featuring two classic filled foods; Seder and Shabbat Dinner Vegetarian-style; and Shavuot Dairy Delights.

SEASONAL LATKES
(These latkes can be made vegan, gluten-free and with reduced oil. The substitution of vegetables other than potatoes lowers the glycemic index, making the latkes better for diabetics, and more satiating and visually attractive.)

1 large onion, grated and squeezed
4 cups of the any of the following, grated: beets, winter squash (like kabocha, acorn, banana or butternut), carrots, turnips or parsnips
2 eggs
4 tbsp corn or potato starch
salt and pepper to taste
oil for frying

photo - These latkes can be made vegan, gluten-free and with reduced oil – or not — These latkes can be made vegan, gluten-free and with reduced oil – or not. *(photo by Michelle Dodek)*

Once the vegetables are grated and the excess liquid is squeezed out, combine all the ingredients, coating the vegetables well. Take a heaping tablespoon of the mixture and drop it into the hot oil. Do not squish them down, just spread out the mixture so the edges are thin and the middle has some volume. Repeat, making sure the latkes are spaced out enough to flip. Once the edges begin to brown, flip the latkes and fry a few more minutes. If you plan to freeze and reheat, cook for fewer minutes, then cool on layers of paper towels. To freeze the latkes, fully cool them, remove the paper towel and lay the latkes out in individual layers on trays for best results. Once frozen, put them into an airtight container.

To make a vegan version of this recipe, use flax eggs (one tablespoon of ground flax plus three tablespoons of water/”egg”). The baked version includes two tablespoons of olive oil in the mixture and is baked at 375˚F until brown.

RUGELACH

250g cream cheese (room temperature: leave out a maximum of 2 hours)
1 cup butter (room temperature: can be left out overnight)
2 cups flour
filling of choice: cinnamon, sugar, raisins, Nutella, jam (be creative)

Mix the cream cheese and butter until well creamed. Add the flour and mix until a soft dough is formed. Ideally, cover and refrigerate for two hours or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Line two cookie sheets with parchment or a baking mat. Divide the dough into four balls. Roll into three-millimetre-thick circles. They should be almost 25 centimetres wide.

Cover the dough with a thin layer of filling. Don’t be tempted to make it too thick because it will burn and make an enormous mess. If you’re using cinnamon and sugar, sprinkle three parts sugar and one part cinnamon all over the dough.

Cut the circles into 10 or 12 “pizza-shaped” slices. Roll from the outer edge into the centre, making a cute rolled-up shape. Put the rugelach on the cookie sheet and either freeze them on the pan and then transfer them to an airtight container or bake them immediately. Bake for 25 minutes or until lightly golden.

Rugelach really are 1,000 times better when eaten the day they’re made.

Michelle Dodek is a long-time contributor to the Jewish Independent and is a cooking instructor who specializes in Jewish and vegetarian cooking.

Year-round holiday recipes

Tori Avey’s Honey Apple Bundt Cake before being dusted with sugar powder or decorated with icing. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

Rosh Hashanah may well be in the rearview mirror, but Tori Avey’s Honey Apple Bundt Cake (toriavey.com/honey-apple-cake) is guaranteed to be a staple on your dinner table, no matter the time of year. It’s definitely not your typical yontif honey cake that doubles as a brick. Filled with shredded apples, it not only satisfies your sweet tooth but is off-the-charts moist.

Except for the apple-shredding part, which I do by hand, this recipe is fast and easy. I used to have a food processor with a shredder attachment but I never used it, so I gave it to my niece. I also used to have a Bundt pan, but I rarely used it, so I gave it to my niece. She now has an extensive collection of high-end small kitchen appliances. And I borrow from her. My point is that this cake was a colossal hit at my Rosh Hashanah dinner table, and is one recipe I’ll be making on the regular. You’re welcome.

HONEY APPLE BUNDT CAKE

3 large eggs
3/4 cup honey
1/2 cup white sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1 1/4 cups canola oil
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp allspice (optional)
dash ground cloves (optional)
4 apples (peeled, cored, shredded)
3 tbsp powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 325˚F. Peel, core and shred your apples.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs until they’re frothy. Whisk in the honey, white sugar, brown sugar, oil and vanilla. In a separate medium-sized bowl, mix the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, salt and spices (optional) together. Incorporate the flour mixture into the liquid, and stir to blend. Fold in the shredded apples (I used Ambrosia or Fuji but you can use any kind you like) and their juice.

Spray your nine-inch Bundt pan with cooking spray, making sure to evenly coat the entire inner surface. Pour the batter into the pan. Since Bundt pan sizes vary (I use a 10-to-15-cup pan), make sure the batter fills the pan three-quarters full or less – don’t fill beyond that or your cake might overflow during baking. Use a spatula to gently smooth the batter on the top so it’s flat and even all the way around the pan.

Bake the cake for 75 to 90 minutes. If you’re using a dark-coloured Bundt pan, it may bake faster, so start checking at 50 minutes. When the edges darken and pull away from the sides of the pan, and the cake is brown all the way across the top, insert a toothpick (or wooden shish kabob skewer) into the thickest part of the cake. If it comes out clean, it’s done. It’s a very moist cake, so it’s easy to undercook it. Bake it a little longer if you’re unsure, but not too long or it’ll dry out.

Let the cake cool for 10 minutes, then invert it onto a flat plate. Tap the Bundt pan gently to release the cake, then let the cake cool completely before you dust it with powdered sugar. Since the cake is moist, it tends to soak up the powdered sugar, so only add it right before serving. I put three tablespoons of powdered sugar into a small handheld mesh sieve and sprinkled it on top of the cake by tapping the sieve. If there’s any cake left over, keep it in the fridge, covered.

If you happen to be a fan of drizzled icing, this next part is for you. To make an icing, sift one cup of powdered sugar into a mixing bowl. Add a quarter teaspoon of vanilla extract and half a tablespoon of water or non-dairy creamer. Whisk the sugar and liquid to blend, adding the liquid very slowly, until it just comes together. Add additional liquid by half teaspoonfuls, mixing constantly, until the mixture has the texture of very thick honey. When you pull a spatula through the icing and it takes a few seconds for the gap to close again, the texture is right.

Pour the icing into a sealable plastic bag. Close the bag, leaving a small bit open to vent, and push the icing towards one lower corner of the bag. Cut the very tip of that corner off the bag. Squeeze gently to drizzle the icing over the cake. Let the icing dry completely before serving – this takes 30-60 minutes. Slice and enjoy!

Another new Rosh Hashanah recipe I tried convinced me that not all tzimmes are created equal. Ksenia Prints’ Russian Jewish Carrot Tzimmes (immigrantstable.com/my-grandmas-russian-jewish-carrot-tzimmes) is definitely a cut above and checks all the boxes for rich depth of flavour. Some of my Rosh Hashanah guests actually asked if they could take some home!

RUSSIAN JEWISH CARROT TZIMMES

2 lbs carrots peeled & cut into 2-inch pieces
7 oz pitted prunes
7 oz dried apricots
zest of 2 oranges, in strips
juice of 2 oranges
4 tbsp honey
1/4 cup brown sugar
3 tbsp butter
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground cardamom (optional)
salt to taste

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Blanch carrots in boiling salted water for 5 minutes, then drain.

In a large ovenproof dish, combine carrots, prunes, apricots and orange zest.

Combine orange juice, honey, brown sugar, melted butter, cinnamon, ginger and cardamom (optional), and pour this over the carrot mixture. Toss to coat.

Cover the dish with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Remove foil, stir, and continue baking uncovered for 30 to 40 minutes, until carrots are tender and the sauce has thickened and reduced to a glaze. Season with salt to taste and let rest for 10 minutes before serving.

The orange zest strips become almost candied and the glaze is sweet and slightly spicy. This dish freezes perfectly and offers a deep, rich flavour that only gets better with time. Seriously. You can make it in advance, like I did, then defrost and reheat it in the microwave. No one was the wiser. And everyone was happy.

The $64,000 question is this: Why do we save these delicious recipes only for holidays? Get thee to the oven now!

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.

I smashed it! You can, too.

Semi-Vegan Mini Fake Marry Me Cheesecakes, adapted from joyfoodsunshine.com. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

It seems that smashing food is having a moment. And I don’t mean smashing as in the British term for fabulous. I mean literally smashing. Like smashed baby potatoes, which are, in fact, smashing.

The fun thing about smashing various foods is that it’s a way of cooking that’s eminently forgiving. You can incorporate all kinds of spices or marinades and it’s pretty much bulletproof. Full disclosure: I’ve been eating way too many starchy foods lately, and not nearly enough Canada’s Food Guide choices. Enter yummy broccoli, stage right. This particular recipe is taken from Kalejunkie (Nicole Modic). I tweaked it a bit and plan on tweaking it even more next time. I might substitute summer savoury herbs for garlic, or add a bit of sesame oil. Whatever you try, I’m sure you (and your guests) will love it.

LEMON PARMESAN SMASHED BROCCOLI
(adapted from Kalejunkie)

1 large crown of broccoli
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup olive oil
1 lemon juiced
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp coarse kosher salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper

• Preheat oven to 425˚ F.

• Wash broccoli and cut it up into small florets, including part of the stems. Put into microwave-safe bowl, add a bit of water and microwave until soft but not mushy. Drain the water off and let the broccoli dry on a paper towel.

• Prepare the lemon vinaigrette by whisking the ingredients together in a small bowl. Set it aside.

• Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, and spread the broccoli florets evenly across parchment. Then, using the bottom of a solid drinking glass, smash the broccoli down until it’s as flat as possible. Repeat with each floret.

• Once the florets are smashed, brush the lemon vinaigrette evenly across all the florets. Then add a generous sprinkle of the grated Parmesan cheese on top of each floret.

• Bake the broccoli in the oven for approximately 20-25 minutes, until the edges of the broccoli are crispy and the cheese has melted. The time will depend on your oven, so keep an eye on them.

photo - Lemon Parmesan Smashed Broccoli, adapted from Kalejunkie. — Lemon Parmesan Smashed Broccoli, adapted from Kalejunkie. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

The recipe says that leftovers can be stored in an airtight container in the fridge for up to one week, but I guarantee you there won’t be any leftovers. Not a chance. These are so good that I’ve passed them off as appetizers, midday snacks and side dishes. My husband and I polished off an entire head of smashed broccoli before dinner the other night. I never knew healthy food could be this good. This coming from the Queen of Junk Food.

Once you feel all high and mighty for having just consumed a full head of smashed broccoli, feel free to blow it all by sampling some mini no-bake chocolate cheesecakes – or fake cheesecakes, as I call them. Any way you parse it, there is no cheese in these, yet they’re not fully vegan either.

Called mini because they’re made in mini-muffin pans, you can actually make these in a regular six-to-eight-inch springform pan if you so choose. It won’t come out like a two- or three-inch New York-style cheesecake, but I never promised you a rose garden, either.

I didn’t try making them in a mini-muffin pan because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get them out of the liners easily. Plus, I only have one mini-muffin pan. Maybe next time. Like pretty much everything I cook and bake, these are easy to make and require few, if any, exotic ingredients. I found this recipe online at joyfoodsunshine.com by Laura.

SEMI-VEGAN MINI FAKE MARRY ME CHEESECAKES
(adapted from joyfoodsunshine.com)

2 cups Oreo cookie crumbs (about 27 cookies, crushed)
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/2 cup coconut cream
6 tbsp maple syrup
1 cup roasted unsalted cashews, soaked in boiling water
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (or unsweetened chocolate), melted
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp sea salt

• First, boil 2 cups of water. Place the cashews in a glass container and pour boiling water over them until they are completely covered. Let soak for at least one hour.

• Line and grease a mini-muffin pan or grease a 6”-8” springform pan. Set aside.

• Using a food processor or blender, crush the cookies until they become fine crumbs. Mix melted butter and cookie crumbs together until well combined.

• Drop 1 tablespoon portions of the cookie crumb mixture into each well of the mini-muffin pan. Use your fingers to press the crumbs evenly around the bottom of each well. Repeat with each until all the cookie crumb mixture has been used. Put the mini-muffin pan in the freezer so the crust can harden.

• Drain the cashews. Put all the ingredients – in the order listed – into a high-powered blender. Turn on low, gradually increasing to high speed. Blend until all ingredients are combined and the mixture is smooth (about 1 minute).

• Remove mini-muffin pan from freezer and make sure crumb crust is hardened. Add 2 tablespoons of chocolate filling to each muffin well. Smooth with your fingers and press the air out of each well. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours or, better yet, overnight. Top with extra melted chocolate chips, if desired.

If you use a 6”-8” springform pan instead of mini-muffin pans, your cheesecake will still turn out fine, except it won’t have the height of a regular cheesecake. It will only be about an inch-and-a-half high.

In hindsight, I should never have told my husband I was making cheesecake because, the moment he took that first bite, his nose crinkled up, his eyes narrowed and he declared (with no small measure of distaste): “Wait, this isn’t cheesecake!”

I proceeded to (accidentally) call it vegan cheesecake, which really revved up his wrath. Then I corrected myself, because neither chocolate chips nor Oreo cookies are vegan – when you track their lineage, their ancestors have both a face and parents. Fine. Guilty as charged.

I also fed him this bogus cheesecake after chilling it for only three-and-a-half hours, when I should have waited until the next day, so the filling had time to firm up. Make no mistake, this was no kind of version of thick New York cheesecake. But neither was it pudding. That’s why I went with calling it fake cheesecake, following the recent trend of fake news.

Update: Within 24 hours, my husband had willingly helped me scarf down the remaining fake cheesecakes with no further resistance. I’ll let you do the math.

Popeye and peanut butter

The teeny size of these peanut butter banana bites makes you think you’re not eating much, so be careful. (photo from adasheofmegnut.com)

I’m long overdue to share a new recipe or two. With our recent move to a new condo, I’ve been preoccupied with exploring the neighbourhood, trying new-to-us restaurants and cafés, and doing a few renos here and there. Despite the excitement of it all, sleep is still elusive to me. Plus, I’ve been feeling a little tired lately (iron-deficient?), so I figured some iron-rich soup might just hit the spot. I whipped up some creamy spinach soup and immediately felt like Popeye. Or Popeye’s favourite sister. Perfect soup for a cold day, of which we’ve had so many over the last few weeks. You’re welcome.

EASY CREAMY SPINACH SOUP
(from the Spruce Eats)

2-3 tsp olive oil
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cubed
1/2 medium onion, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
2 cloves minced garlic
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups milk (or 1 cup milk and 1 cup coconut milk)
1 large bunch of fresh spinach, stems removed
ground black pepper, to taste
kosher salt, to taste

In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil. Sauté the cubed potato, the onion, celery and garlic for about five minutes. Add the chicken broth and milk. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer on low for 10 minutes. Stir in all the spinach, cover, and simmer for 10 more minutes. Cool slightly, then transfer the soup to a blender, 1working in batches. Blend until smooth. Taste for seasoning and serve.

I didn’t use any onion, since onions don’t particularly like me, and I ended up using four cups of chicken broth, since I didn’t have enough regular or coconut milk. The consistency was a bit thin but it was still yummy. And I got a month’s worth of non-heme iron in one go. I’ve learned that potatoes are a nice way to thicken soups, especially if you’re going for something dairy-free.

I had intended to bake challah to go with the soup, but time got away from me and I just couldn’t swing it. At the last minute, the understudy sourdough bread came to the dunking rescue and we had a satisfying meal. Harvey declared the soup a solid success, so who can argue with that? I was worried that the simplicity of the recipe might spell bland, but it was surprisingly tasty.

Skipping right to dessert, I discovered a fun little recipe for Peanut Butter Banana Bites on adashofmegnut.com. It’s crazy easy and can be jazzed up with chocolate chips or melted chocolate. It was billed as a kid-friendly snack but I would never presume to declare something a “toddler snack,” since who among us doesn’t like peanut butter, or chocolate?

PEANUT BUTTER BANANA BITES
(from A Dash of Megnut)

one banana, sliced 1/4” to 1/2” pieces
3 tbsp peanut butter (or almond butter), melted slightly
6 oz mini chocolate chips or melted chocolate (optional)

Line a mini muffin tin with 12 liners or use a silicone mini muffin tin. Put a slice of banana into each muffin liner. Pour one to two teaspoons of peanut butter on top of each banana slice. Top with a few mini chocolate chips or melted chocolate (optional, but, seriously, who would say no to chocolate?). Freeze for a few hours to harden the peanut butter. Then enjoy!

These keep well in the freezer and make for a quick and easy snack. And if you substitute hemp hearts for mini chocolate chips you get an even healthier snack (don’t hate me). I haven’t tried it, but you could probably add some cooked quinoa to the melted peanut butter to jack it up to a superfood (again, don’t hate me). The teeny size of these peanut butter banana bites makes you think you’re not eating much, so be careful.

As for main courses, I’m in a bit of a rut right at the moment. It seems like we have an endless loop of chicken, fish and meat every week. We’re not huge pasta eaters (well, Harvey would eat it every day if I let him), so I feel kind of limited in my repertoire. I can’t eat a lot of roughage and high-fibre foods, so huge salads are out. I think I just need a holiday in the sun, where someone else does the cooking for a couple of weeks and I can recharge.

On the home front, our new condo has an induction stove, which I love. There’s one glitch though. Harvey recently had a pacemaker and defibrillator implanted in his chest, which means he’s not allowed to get within two feet of our induction stove or he might get shocked from the electromagnetic field. This presents a problem for a man who regularly makes omelettes, crepes and other stovetop foods. A natural born problem solver, Harvey immediately went out and bought a single-burner countertop hotplate. And, to my surprise, he’s produced some pretty darn good omelettes. But there are only so many eggs you can eat. I hinted that the hotplate might work well for crepes, but he hasn’t taken the bait so far. I guess we’ll be ordering in sushi and Chinese food until I get my groove back.

For now, I’ll just keep trying new marinades for our weekly chicken, fish and meat. As they say: You can put lipstick on a chicken thigh … but it’s still a chicken thigh. I suppose I could go full-bore Cher (from the movie Mermaids) and feed my husband fun finger foods (read: hors d’oeuvres) for all our meals. That could be a lot of fun. Or not.

Harvey: “What’s for dinner tonight, sweetie?”

Shelley: “Cocktail weiners in grape jelly sauce, and melted brie with walnuts and honey.”

Harvey: “You’re fired.”

Shelley: “Who do you think you are – Trump? You can’t fire me. I’m your wife.”

Harvey: “So, will it be sushi or pizza?”

Bon appetit.

Jewish Mexican food excites

Paletas can be made in many flavours. Sabor Judío includes a recipe that uses Manischewitz wine. (photo by Ilan Rabchinskey)

The minute I saw the cover, I wanted to try some of the recipes in Sabor Judío: The Jewish Mexican Cookbook by Ilan Stavans and Margaret E. Boyle. Not only did I learn how to make some very tasty food, but I learned a bit about the Jewish community in Mexico and its history.

Published by the University of North Carolina Press, with hunger-inducing colour photographs by Ilan Rabchinskey, and written by two Jewish Mexican scholars (now living in the United States), Sabor Judío was a cultural experience for me, never having been to Mexico before and only ever having made a basic burrito at home. Of course, I’ve eaten at many Mexican restaurants over the years, but Sabor Judío features recipes you won’t necessarily find in a restaurant here in Vancouver, or even in Canada, though local Jewish community members with Mexican roots might make some of these dishes at home.

There were two very important inspirations for Sabor Judío.

One was Stavans’ grandmother, Bobe Miriam, whose recipe book, written in a mix of Yiddish and Spanish, was started in the 1920s, after she immigrated to Mexico from Poland. It evolved over decades, as she figured out what worked and what didn’t, and as ingredients changed. The notebook “wasn’t just about cooking; it was also a time capsule that chronicled, through dishes, the Jewish family’s process of assimilation into Mexico and the way La Comunidad, as the Jewish Mexican community is known, showcases its personality to the world.”

The other was Boyle’s great-grandmother, Baba Malka, also a Polish immigrant to Mexico: “While Baba Malka was still actively cooking, her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren took turns observing and documenting her work in the kitchen in Mexico City, filling the notebook’s pages with notes and adaptations in Spanish, Hebrew and English as the family generations expanded across Mexico and into the United States.”

The recipes in Sabor Judío are “dishes collected from grandmothers and other beloved home cooks, professional chefs and bakers, and a variety of historical sources,” writes cookbook author Leah Koenig in the preface. Even she came across ingredients she had never used before. “I learned the hard way that nopales (cactus paddles) should always be handled wearing gloves, lest the prickly spines leave your hands stinging for the rest of the day.”

The recipe for Cactus Tomato Salad does include a note about the proper handling of cactus leaves. But, not sure of where I could buy cactus here, I inadvertently saved myself the trouble of removing the spines, boiling the cactus and cutting it into 1/4-inch pieces by buying a jar of cactus that was already prepared in that way. This substantially eased the process of making this salad, which was very good, though I’m sure fresh cactus would have made it even better.

I chose what to make from Sabor Judío by looking at what the cookbook authors recommended as a festive Hanukkah meal, which includes the Cactus Tomato Salad. I had already singled out the Falafel Taquitos because I liked the idea of mixing Mexican and Middle Eastern flavours. In the end, there was a bit of a disconnect for me between the taste of the falafel centre and that of the corn tortilla shell. In eating leftovers the next day, I greatly enhanced the enjoyment of this dish by adding some fresh-cut tomatoes and cucumber.

I also had already eyed Agua de Horchata because of the first sentence in its description, which says that the rice-milk drink – which is believed to have 11th-century North African origins – “accompanies a good Mexican Jewish meal.” I was very pleased with how it turned out. I will definitely make it again.

The Latkes con Mole were as labour-intensive (grating potatoes and onion) and delicious as other latkes I’ve had, and I would happily swap out my usual apple sauce every so often for mole and crumbled queso fresco, even though it takes a lot of time to make mole.

I tried a second fried item, it being for Hanukkah and all, and the Sor Juana’s Ricotta Buñuelos were so good, if that’s a thing. The anise really made them pop, and I ate way too many.

Lastly, knowing how much I like paletas, I couldn’t resist making the frozen treats using Manischewitz. The wine most definitely tastes better frozen, after being steeped in cinnamon, cloves and orange.

There are other Hanukkah – Janucá – meals, as well as suggested menus for other Jewish holidays. In total, there are about 100 recipes in Sabor Judío, including desserts. One thing you’ll learn from this cookbook is that the Canadian and Mexican concepts of breakfast, lunch and dinner differ somewhat. You’ll learn some Spanish, some history and more. You’ll be introduced to some new-to-you ingredients and ways to combine those ingredients.

As Stavans and Boyle wish readers at the end of their book’s introduction, perfectly capturing the fusions taking place throughout it: “¡Buen provecho! Mit a gutn apetit! Kome kon gana!” Enjoy your meal(s).

FALAFEL TAQUITOS
(serves 6; prep takes 30 minutes plus overnight soaking and a 30-minute chilling time; 20 minutes to bake)

for the taquitos:
1/2 lb dried chickpeas, soaked overnight in water, then rinsed and drained
1/2 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
2 tbsp fresh parsley, roughly chopped
2 tbsp cilantro, roughly chopped
2 medium garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1 tsp kosher salt, plus more as needed
1 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1/8 tsp cayenne
vegetable oil, for brushing
12 (6-inch) corn tortillas

for the tahini sauce:
1/2 cup well-stirred tahini
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup cold water

1. Add the chickpeas to a food processor bowl along with the onion, parsley, cilantro, garlic, salt, cumin, coriander and cayenne. Pulse, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed until a textured paste forms. Taste and add more salt, if needed. Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate the mixture for 30 minutes.

2. Heat the oven to 400˚F and brush a 9-by-13-inch baking dish with about 1 tablespoon of oil. Lay one tortilla on a flat surface and place a scant 1/4 cup of the filling along one edge, nudging it into a line. Roll up the tortilla tightly and place it seam-side down in the prepared backing dish. Repeat the process with the remaining tortillas and filling.

3. Brush the tops of the tortillas with more oil and bake until crispy and golden, 15-20 minutes. Meanwhile, whisk together the tahini, lemon juice and water. Serve the taquitos hot, drizzled with tahini sauce.

AGUA DE HORCHATA
(serves 8-10; prep takes 10 minutes, plus overnight soaking and a 4-hour chilling time)

2 cups long-grain white rice, rinsed well and drained
1 cinnamon stick
6 cups room-temperature water, divided, plus more as needed
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 cups whole milk
2 tsp vanilla extract
ice, for serving (optional)

1. Place the rice and cinnamon stick in a large glass bowl and add 4 cups of the water. Cover the bowl and let the mixture soak overnight at room temperature (at least 8 hours).

2. Pour the soaked rice mixture into a high-powered blender along with the sugar and blend until smooth. (You can tear the cinnamon stick into smaller pieces to facilitate its blending.) Pour the mixture through a fine mesh sieve into a large wide-mouth pitcher, stirring and pressing the mixture with a spoon, if needed, to help the liquid pass through the sieve. (Discard any remaining solids.)

3. Whisk in the milk, the remaining 2 cups of water, and vanilla. Cover the pitcher and chill the horchata in the refrigerator until cold, at least 4 hours. (The mixture will continue to thicken as it chills.)

4. Just before serving, stir the horchata well and pour into glasses (over ice, if desired). If the horchata gets too thick, you can thin it with a little more water.

SOR JUANA’S RICOTTA BUÑUELOS
(makes 10-15 fritters; prep takes 40 minutes, plus 1-hour resting time; 30 minutes to cook)

1 cup ricotta cheese
6 egg yolks
1/4 cup granulated sugar, plus more for serving
2 1/2 tsp ground anise
3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
vegetable oil, for frying
jam, for serving

1. Combine the ricotta, egg yolks, sugar and ground anise in the bowl of a stand mixer and beat on low until combined. Whisk together the flour and baking powder in a medium-sized bowl.

2. Add the flour mixture to the ricotta mixture in stages, beating on low and scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary, until a thick and sticky dough forms. Cover the mixing bowl and let rest at room temperature for 1 hour.

3. On a large, floured work surface using a floured rolling pin, roll out the dough to a 1/8-inch thickness. Use a sharp knife and a plate or bowl with a 4-to-5-inch diameter to cut out circles. Gather the scraps and repeat the rolling and cutting process, if desired.

4. Heat 1/4 inch of oil in a medium frying pan set over medium heat until it reaches 350˚F on a digital thermometer, and line a large baking sheet with paper towels. Working with one circle of dough at a time, slip it into the hot oil and fry, turning once, until puffed and golden, 30 to 60 seconds per side.

5. Transfer the fritters to the paper towels to drain and cool slightly. Serve warm, sprinkled with more sugar or dolloped with jam.

PALETAS MANISCHEWITZ
(makes 6; prep takes 40 minutes; freeze 5 hours)

1 (750-ml) bottle Manischewitz sweet red wine
3 wide strips orange peel
4 whole cloves
1 cinnamon stick
2 cups water
thinly sliced limes and tangerines (optional)

1. Add the wine, orange peel, cloves and cinnamon stick to a medium saucepan set over medium-high heat. Bring the mixture to a boil, then lower the heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid reduces to 1 cup, 30-35 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool, then strain out and discard the spices and orange peel.

2. Stir the water into the strained wine syrup, then divide the mixture evenly among 6 paleta or flat popsicle molds. If desired, add a slice of lime or tangerine into each mold. Freeze until solid, at least 5 hours.

The first of many Shabbats

Faith Kramer’s Roasted Salmon with Citrus-honey Sauce. (photo by Clara Rice)

Somehow, I missed the cookbook 52 Shabbats: Friday Night Dinners Inspired by a Global Jewish Kitchen by Faith Kramer when it was published by the Collective Book Studio in 2021. Well, I now have a copy and, in an ideal world, my next year of 52 Shabbat dinners would all be cooked à la Kramer. Instead, it’ll probably take me several years to make all the special meals in this informative, well-laid-out, easy-to-follow cookbook – but at least I’ve gotten a head start.

In this last month of the Jewish year 5784, I made two of Kramer’s main dishes, a salad dressing and a dessert. Each recipe is prefaced with a blurb containing more information about the dish. Many recipes have suggestions of what to serve together (starter, main, dessert, etc.) to elevate the meal for Shabbat, as well as suggested variations and what can be made in advance. Kramer also provides explanations of lesser-known ingredients.

52 Shabbats begins with some discussion of different Jewish traditions around Shabbat and various Jewish communities’ ways of cooking food and the ingredients they use. Kramer gives a brief overview of Jewish dietary laws and shares her preferences for the common ingredients she uses throughout. The book is divided into the four seasons, plus chapters on side dishes and accompaniments, desserts, and fundamentals (sauces, etc.). There are additional resources listed near the end, as well as measurement conversions.

I chose the recipes to make from the fall section, focusing on Rosh Hashanah. I made a carrot and lentil main because, as Kramer writes: “Carrots are symbolic in Judaism of asking for prosperity and for our blessings to multiply. Combined with the sweetness of silan [date syrup] … or honey, they make an edible wish for a Happy New Year at Rosh Hashanah.” I also made a fish main, because fish is another symbol of Rosh Hashanah, with the hope that we be the head and not the tail, ie. a leader rather than a follower.

Kramer recommended mini cheesecakes as the dessert for both of these mains, so I made those as well. I also made the Lemon, Za’atar and Garlic Dressing for a green salad, but much preferred the dressing as a marinade for blanched green beans. For space reasons, I’ve not included the recipe intros or the “make it in advance” suggestions, nor have I included the dressing recipe. The three recipes here will hopefully inspire you to get a copy of the cookbook, and perhaps start some new Shabbat traditions this year.

SWEET-AND-TART SILAN-ROASTED CARROTS WITH LENTILS
(serves 4 as a main, 8 as a side)

for the lentils:
1 cup green or brown lentils
3 cups vegetable broth
1/4 tsp ground black pepper
1/4 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp paprika
1/2 cup chopped fennel or celery
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 tsp minced garlic
1 tsp minced jalapeño, optional
1/4 tsp salt, plus more if desired

for the carrots:
2 tbsp olive oil, plus more for baking sheet
1 cup silan, honey or agave syrup
1/4 cup water
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1/4 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground cardamom
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper or paprika
1/8 tsp ground cloves
1 lb multicoloured carrots, peeled (cut large carrots into thirds)
1 tsp coarse sea salt
2 tbsp tahini
2 tbsp chopped fresh mint or flat-leaf parsley

In a large saucepan, stir together the lentils, vegetable broth, black pepper, cumin and paprika and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Stir in the fennel, onion, garlic and jalapeño (if using) and return to a simmer. Cover and cook, lowering the heat as needed to maintain a gentle simmer, until the lentils are tender and the liquid is absorbed, 15 to 20 minutes. Add the salt and stir well. Taste and adjust the seasoning, if desired. Remove from the heat, drain any excess liquid, and set aside while you make the carrots.

Preheat the oven to 450°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or aluminum foil. Grease the parchment paper with olive oil.

In a wide, flat dish, whisk together the silan, water, olive oil, lemon juice, cumin, cardamom, cayenne and cloves. Add the carrots and toss until evenly coated.

Place the carrots in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Set aside any left-over silan mixture.

Lower the oven temperature to 400°F. Roast the carrots for 40 to 50 minutes, or until tender and browned, tossing in the pan juices every 10 to 15 minutes.

Reheat the lentils, if desired, or keep them at room temperature. Add any leftover silan mixture to the lentils and stir to combine. Transfer the lentils to a large serving dish and top with the roasted carrots. Sprinkle with the coarse salt, drizzle with the tahini and garnish with the fresh mint.

ROAST SALMON WITH CITRUS-HONEY SAUCE
(serves 4-6 as a main, 8-10 as a starter)

1/3 cup fresh orange juice
1/2 cup light-coloured honey
1/2 tsp dried mint
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper or paprika
1/4 tsp ground black pepper
1/2 to 1 tsp Sichuan peppercorns, lightly crushed, optional
vegetable oil for baking sheet
1 1/2 to 2 lbs salmon fillet
6 tbsp thinly sliced green onions

In a small bowl, mix together the orange juice, honey, mint, salt, cayenne, black pepper and crushed Sichuan peppercorns (if using) to make a marinade. Set aside half of the marinade to use later for the sauce.

photo - Faith Kramer’s Roasted Salmon with Citrus-honey Sauce — (photo by Clara Rice)

Grease a rimmed baking sheet with oil. Place the salmon, skin side down, in the pan and brush the top of the salmon with some of the marinade. Let sit for at least 30 minutes or up to 60 minutes, brushing often with the marinade.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

While the fish is marinating, pour the reserved marinade into a small saucepan over medium heat and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to low and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the liquid is reduced by two-thirds, 15 to 20 minutes. Taste, and adjust the salt and other seasonings, if desired. Set the sauce aside.

Brush or spoon the remaining marinade over the salmon. Roast for 15 to 20 minutes, basting with the pan juices after 10 minutes, until the salmon is cooked to the desired doneness. For fully cooked fish, it should read 145°F when an instant-read thermometer is placed in the thickest part of the fillet. The flesh should be opaque all the way through but still be very moist.

Transfer the salmon to a platter and spoon the sauce over the fish. Sprinkle with green onions and serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled.

MANGO AND CARDAMOM MINI CHEESECAKES
(makes 24 individual cheesecakes)

24 ginger snaps, lemon snaps or wafers, or vanilla wafers
1 1/2 cup fresh or defrosted frozen mango chunks, divided
3 (8-ounce) packages regular or light cream cheese, at room temperature
3 large eggs, beaten
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp fresh lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line two 12-cup cupcake pans with paper or foil liners. (If you don’t have enough tins, use foil cupcake liners on a baking sheet.)

Put a cookie in the bottom of each liner. Break cookies to fit and cover the bottom of the liner, if necessary.

In a blender, purée 3/4 cup of mango chunks until smooth. Set aside.

Cut the cream cheese into 1-inch chunks. In a large bowl, combine the eggs, sugar, cardamom, salt, ginger, vanilla extract and lemon juice and beat with an electric hand or stand mixer until light and lemony in colour, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the cream cheese chunks in 3 batches, incorporating each batch before adding the next. Beat on medium-high speed until totally smooth, 3 to 4 minutes.

Fill each cupcake liner two-thirds full. Place 1 teaspoon of the mango purée in the centre of each cake. Using a knife, swirl the purée through the batter to create a marbleized look.

Bake for 20 minutes, or until the centres of the cheesecakes are a bit loose and jiggly, puffed up and pale in colour. Turn off the oven, open the oven door and leave the cheesecakes there for 30 minutes. Transfer the cheesecakes to a wire rack and let cool. (The tops of the cakes will collapse.) Place the cheesecakes in the refrigerator until chilled.

To serve, remove the cheesecakes from the liners, if desired. Chop the remaining 3/4 cup of mango and spoon it onto the cheesecakes. Serve cold or cool.

An alternative to honey cake

Peach-blueberry cake à la Ina Garten, made by the Accidental Balabusta. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

With Rosh Hashanah right around the corner, I’m already thinking of honey cake … but not honey cake. Wanting to ring in the new year with something sweet but not traditional, I found a recipe that might just fit the bill perfectly. Looking around the stores, there is still lots of fresh fruit to be had and, in a final hurray to summer, I decided to indulge in the juicy sweetness of peaches and local blueberries. Add in a few dozen other ingredients and, voila, I produced a cake that my husband declared worthy of a Balabusta column.

Reading the recipe I found online at sweetandsavourypursuits.com, I was initially apprehensive, since the ingredients list reads like a Tolstoy novel. Then I thought, heck, stop being a kitchen-weeny and get the job done. If the internet is to be believed (ha!), this recipe is “adapted from Ina Garten,” the “Barefoot Contessa,” so it was all but guaranteed to be good. And it was. However, I have one caveat: the baking temperature and cooking time are way off. But that’s an easy fix.

Made in a nine-and-a-half-inch springform pan, this cake has got legs. It’s gooey and sticky and holds its own. It’s the opposite of light and fluffy, but you don’t necessarily expect light and fluffy from a fruit-filled cake. Anyway, no more excuses. Just try it. But keep in mind that you will probably need to adjust your temperature up from the stated 350˚˚ F to about 365˚ F or even higher, depending on your oven. The recipe calls for a cooking time of 45 to 55 minutes at 350˚F, but the batter was still wet and jiggly after 55 minutes, so I upped the temperature and just kept adding time until the cake set, which ended up being more like an hour and 15 minutes or so. Flexibility is a must for this recipe. Don’t expect to make it when you’re in a rush. Won’t happen. But darn, it’s worth the time.

PEACH-BLUEBERRY CAKE

1/2 cup unsalted butter at room temperature
2 cups white sugar
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 cup sour cream at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cardamom (optional, and I didn’t use it)
2 large fresh ripe peaches, peeled, pitted and sliced
3/4 cup fresh blueberries rinsed and dried
1/3 cup light brown sugar packed
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cardamom (optional)

1. Place rack in the middle of the oven and heat oven to 350˚ F (as I said above, I would recommend more like 365˚ F or higher – your call). Line the bottom of a 9 1/2” springform pan with parchment paper or lightly grease it. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and cardamom (if using). Set aside.

3. In the bowl of your mixer, add the butter and white sugar and beat on medium-high for 3 to 5 minutes, until mixture is fluffy.

4. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing after each addition.

5. Add the sour cream and vanilla extract and beat until smooth.

6. Scrape the side and bottom of the bowl before gradually adding the flour mixture on low speed.

7. Once the flour has been added, increase the speed and beat until the batter is smooth. Don’t over-beat the batter.

8. In a medium bowl, mix the peaches and blueberries with the brown sugar, cinnamon and cardamom (if using).

9. Spread the batter evenly into the springform pan.

10. Add the fruit to the top of the batter by arranging the peaches in a circular pattern and scattering the blueberries in the gaps. (At this point, I was so tired, I just threw the whole fruit mixture on top of the batter.)

11. Bake for 45 to 55 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the centre of the cake comes out clean or with a few crumbs clinging to it.

12. Cool the cake on a wire rack for 10 minutes before running a knife along the edge and releasing the cake from the pan.

The recipe says to serve the cake at room temperature, but who are we kidding? As soon as I could touch the cake without burning my fingers, I was stuffing it into my mouth. The recipe also suggested serving it with sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, neither of which I had, so we ate it au naturel.

The cake can be stored at room temperature for up to two days and, after that, it should be refrigerated. But, once again, who are they kidding? As if a cake would last two days in our home. Maybe we’re gluttons. Or maybe we just wanted the cake while it was fresh. My money is on freshness. And expediency.

However you parse it, this cake is summer-yummy. And, since I can already feel fall in the air, if I were you, I’d hightail it to your local grocer, buy some peaches and blueberries and get baking. The cake was delicious right from the oven. It was delicious the next morning for breakfast. And it was still delicious that afternoon. Now, it is no longer. I have no idea if it would freeze well or not, but, if so, it would make a refreshing alternative to honey cake for Rosh Hashanah. You could probably substitute berries of any kind in this cake, but I hear that blueberries are a particularly good antioxidant food. If, however, you happen to be pro-oxidant, then skip the blueberries and opt for something less controversial. Whatever. Just try this. Then thank me.

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.