The holiday of Chamisha Asar b’Shevat or Tu b’Shevat is not mentioned in the Torah but makes its first appearance in the Talmud, where it is called Rosh Hashanah l’Ilan (New Year of the Tree).
Jewish literature of the sixth to 11th centuries identifies Tu b’Shevat as the day on which the fate of the trees and fruit is decided. The holiday gets its name from when it occurs. “Tu” is an acronym for the Hebrew letter tet, which in the Hebrew system of counting is nine, and the letter vav, which is six, thus adding up to 15, the day on which the holiday falls in the month of Shevat.
The date was chosen when the rabbinic schools of Hillel and Shammai (from the time of the Second Temple) argued about the dates. Hillel said it fell on the 15th of Shevat; Shammai said it began on the first. Hillel’s opinion prevailed because it was thought that, by the later date, the winter rains in Israel were almost over.
Tu b’Shevat links Jews to the land of Eretz Yisrael. In the time of the Second Temple, on the 15th of Shevat, Jewish farmers would estimate their obligatory tithes for tax collectors, as well as other contributions that Jewish law required. In effect, Tu b’Shevat was the beginning of the new fiscal year.
Part of the celebration is a seder with certain foods.
In her book The Jewish Holiday Cookbook, Gloria Kaufer Greene mentions that the drinking of four cups of wine at the seder symbolizes the changing of seasons. She suggests that the first cup is chilled, dry, white wine, to symbolize winter. The second cup of wine is pale, perhaps a rosé, and signifies spring and the early thaw. The third cup of wine is deeply coloured, like a dark rose, and represents the late spring and the blossoming trees. The fourth cup of wine is rich and red and stands for the fertility of summer.
In between drinking, one eats fruit in order of “ascending spirituality.” After the first cup of wine, one eats fruit with inedible coverings, like almonds, avocado, banana or melon, to represent the body covering the soul. After the second cup, one eats fruit with pits, such as plum, prune, date, apricot, olive or carob, to symbolize the heart being protected. After the third cup of wine, one eats fruit that can be eaten in its entirety, such as berry, apple, pear or fig, because they are closest to the pure spiritual creation.
In Encyclopedia of Jewish Food, the late Rabbi Gil Marks lists different ethnic dishes for the holiday, including borleves, Hungarian wine soup; salata latsheen, Moroccan orange salad; dimlama, Bulgarian vegetable and fruit stew; savo, Bukharian baked rice and fruit; gersht un shveml, Ashkenazi barley with mushrooms, fruit strudels and fruit kugels; and schnitzelkloese, German fried dumplings with fruit. Food customs associated with Tu b’Shevat are fruits and nuts connected to Eretz Yisrael, such as the seven species mentioned in Deuteronomy 8:7-8 – barley, wheat, figs, dates, grapes, olives and pomegranates.
Here are a couple of my fruit recipes. The first is one that a friend gave me about 40 years ago.
CREAMY FRUIT SALAD 6-8 servings
2-3 cut up apples 1-2 peeled, cut-up oranges 2-3 cut-up bananas 1/4 cup coconut 1/4 cup chopped nuts 3/8 cup sour cream or 3/4 cup lemon yogurt 1 1/2 tbsp sugar or whipped cream 1/8 cup orange juice 3/8 cup vanilla yogurt raisins (optional)
Combine apples, orange and bananas in a bowl. Add coconut and nuts. Combine sour cream or lemon yogurt, sugar or whipped cream, orange juice and vanilla yogurt. Pour over fruit and refrigerate.
I have altered this recipe at times and use pareve whipping cream to make it pareve, leaving out the sour cream/yogurt.
HOT SPICED FRUIT 4 servings
6 peaches, pears or apricots, halved 1/2 cup red wine 2 tbsp sugar dash cloves 1/8 tsp cinnamon dash cardamom 3/4 tsp grated orange peel
Combine wine, sugar, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom and orange peel in a saucepan. Add fruit and cook 15-20 minutes. Drain and reserve liquid. Chill fruit. Serve with vanilla ice cream. Spoon sauce on top.
Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.
These loaded sweet potatoes were satisfyingly filling. (photo by Ingrid Weisenbach)
In a word: yum. I tried out four recipes in The Tahini Table: Go Beyond Hummus with 100 Recipes for Every Meal by Amy Zitelman with Andrew Schloss. All were delicious. All worth making. I will definitely bring more tahini into my life, but not every day, as the meals are somewhat complicated to make; at least they were for me.
Published by Surrey Books, an imprint of Agate Publishing, the cookbook is gorgeous. The colour photos by Jillian Guyette and the overall look and layout make The Tahini Table as much eye-candy as cooking guide. The first chapter is all about tahini – what it is, how to use and store it, with a foray into hummus and halvah and ingredients one should have close at hand, such as avocados, various oils, garlic and onion, yogurt, different vinegars, date syrup, etc. There is a relatively helpful instruction on how to mince garlic and a section on herbs and spices. Each recipe is labeled with the diets with which it is aligned; vegan or gluten-free or Paleo, for example.
There are six chapters, covering sauces, dips, breakfasts, lunch-type food and sides, main courses and, finally, desserts. While Zitelman promises easy and quick recipes – and perhaps they are if you do as recommended and stock up on the sauces, dressings and dips – I was starting from scratch. The two mains – the benedict and the sweet potatoes – each took almost two hours to make. Only once I started did I see, for example, that one of the benny recipe ingredients was pickled red onion, carrot or radish … go to page 127. So, off to make that before I could proceed. Oh, and don’t be fooled, as I was, by the directions for the pickles – for the benedict, you only need to make pickled onions, so adjust accordingly, unless you’re also wanting to have the carrots and radishes for other purposes. (In the end, I was happy to have made all three, but I was quite hangry while making them.)
Zitelman, who is a co-founder with her sisters of Soom Foods, writes in the introduction, “we founded Soom Foods with a vision that tahini would be a staple pantry item in the American market simply because it is a delicious, nutritious and versatile ingredient. Although this ambition was somewhat far-fetched at the time, tahini is increasingly recognized as a superfood that is rich in omega-6 fatty acids, protein and calcium.” More reason, if I needed it, to experiment further with the recipes in The Tahini Table. Here are the ones I’ve kitchen-tested so far, sans Zitelman’s informative and delightful preambles or suggestions, because of space limitations.
The Tahini Benedict was very tasty. (photo by Ingrid Weisenbach)
TAHINI BENEDICT (serves two)
sauce 2 large egg yolks 1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice 1⁄4 cup premium tahini paste 1⁄2 garlic clove, chopped 1⁄4-1⁄2 tsp sea salt 2-3 tbsp boiling water
eggs 1 tomato, cut into 4 rounds 3 tsp extra virgin olive oil, divided fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste 1⁄2 tsp ground cumin 1 tbsp white vinegar 4 large eggs
assembly 2 English muffins, split and toasted 1⁄2 cup pickled red onion, carrot or radish (see below)
To make the sauce: Fill a blender with very hot tap water to warm up the container. Wait five minutes, then drain. Add the egg yolks, lemon juice, tahini, garlic, salt and two tablespoons boiling water. Blend on medium speed until just combined, about 30 seconds. If the sauce is too thick, add the remaining one tablespoon of boiling water and blend to combine. Set aside.
To make the eggs: Turn on the broiler to high and position the broiler rack as close to the heating element as it will go.
Coat the tomato rounds with two teaspoons of the oil and set on a broiler pan. Season with salt and pepper and sprinkle on the cumin. Broil until the surface is speckled but the tomato is still firm, about three minutes.
Meanwhile, fill a 10- to 12-inch skillet with water and bring to a boil over medium heat. Add the vinegar.
Crack each egg into a separate cup or ramekin. Gently slip each egg from its cup into the water. Turn the heat to medium-low so that the water in the pan barely simmers.
Poach the eggs until the whites are set and the yolks remain creamy, about two minutes.
To assemble: Put an English muffin on each plate. Top each half with a broiled tomato. Use a slotted spatula to remove each egg from the water, wait a few seconds to let any extra water drain back into the pan, then place it on the tomato. Top each with sauce and a little pile of pickled red onion. Serve immediately.
QUICK PICKLES (makes about three cups)
6 carrots, peeled and julienned 1 red onion, peeled and very thinly sliced 12 red summer radishes, trimmed and thinly sliced 1 1⁄2 cups apple cider vinegar 1 1⁄2 cups water 6 tbsp honey 1 tbsp fine sea salt 1⁄2 tsp crushed red pepper
Put each of the cut veggies in their own pint container.
In a small saucepan, combine the vinegar, water, honey, salt and crushed red pepper and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Pour a third of the pickling mixture over each of the veggies. Let cool for about 30 minutes before serving.
Store in closed containers in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
LOADED TAHINI SWEET POTATOES (serves four)
1 leek, trimmed, halved lengthwise, thinly sliced (white and pale green parts) 1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, rinsed and drained 2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, divided 1 garlic clove, minced with coarse sea salt 1 tsp ground coriander 1⁄2 tsp ground cumin 1⁄2 tsp smoked paprika pinch ground cinnamon fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste 4 medium sweet potatoes, halved lengthwise 1 bunch lacinato kale, coarsely chopped 1 cup orange-rosemary tahini sauce (see below) 12 cherry tomatoes, quartered 1⁄4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley hot sauce, to taste
Turn the oven to 400ºF.
Toss the leek and chickpeas with one tablespoon of the olive oil on a rimmed sheet pan. Add the garlic, coriander, cumin, paprika, cinnamon, salt and pepper and toss to coat everything evenly. Push the leek and chickpea mixture to the edges of the sheet pan.
Rub the cut surfaces of the sweet potatoes with the remaining one tablespoon of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Put the sweet potatoes, cut-side down, in the centre of the sheet pan. Bake until the potatoes are fork-tender, about 45 minutes.
While the potatoes are baking, boil the kale in a good amount of salted water until tender, about 10 minutes.
When the potatoes are tender, put two halves on each plate and flatten them with the back of a large fork. Transfer the kale to the sheet pan and toss with the chickpeas and leeks. Drizzle some of the tahini sauce over the potatoes and pile the veggies on top. Top with more tahini sauce and the tomatoes, parsley and hot sauce.
ORANGE-ROSEMARY TAHINI SAUCE (makes about 2 cups)
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil 2 tbsp finely chopped fresh rosemary leaves 2 garlic cloves, minced with coarse sea salt grated zest and juice of 1 orange (about 1⁄3 cup) 2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 cup premium tahini paste 1 tsp ground cumin 3⁄4 cup ice-cold water
Heat the olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat just until warm, less than a minute. Stir in the rosemary, remove from the heat and give it 10 minutes or so to cool down and get flavourful.
Meanwhile, combine the garlic, orange juice and lemon juice in a medium bowl. Let it sit for one to two minutes. Whisk the orange zest, tahini and cumin into the garlic mixture until just combined. Don’t worry if it gets thick and grainy. Whisk in the water, a quarter cup at a time, until the sauce is smooth and creamy. It should be the consistency of a creamy salad dressing, like ranch.
Stir the cooled rosemary oil into the tahini.
Store in a closed container in the refrigerator for up to three days.
TEHINA REGINA COOKIES (makes about 40 cookies)
1⁄2 cup premium tahini paste 1 cup granulated sugar 3 large eggs 1 1⁄2 tsp vanilla extract 1⁄8 tsp almond extract [optional, I’d say, as I could barely taste it] 2 1⁄4 cups all-purpose flour 2 1⁄2 tsp baking powder 1⁄2 tsp fine sea salt 1⁄4 tsp ground cardamom 1 cup white sesame seeds
Tehina Regina Cookies – a few never made it to the cooling rack. (photo by Cynthia Ramsay)
Mix the tahini and sugar in a large bowl until well combined. Beat in the eggs, vanilla and almond extract until the mixture is smooth.
Mix the flour, baking powder, salt and cardamom in a medium bowl, then stir the flour mixture into the batter just until there are no visible dry spots. The dough will be very stiff. Wrap it in plastic and refrigerate for at least one hour or as long as 24 hours.
Set two oven racks near the centre of the oven. Turn the oven to 350ºF. Line two sheet pans with parchment paper or silicone baking mats.
Put the sesame seeds in wide bowl. Scoop the dough with a one-tablespoon measure and arrange as mounds on a big sheet of aluminum foil, plastic wrap or parchment. Wet your hands and roll the mounds into egg-shaped ovals. As each one is made, coat all over with sesame seeds and place on the prepared pans, about one inch apart. You will probably get 13 to 14 cookies per pan.
Bake until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Cool the cookies for two minutes on the pans, then transfer them to wire racks to cool completely. When the pans are at room temperature again, form the remaining batter into cookies and bake in the same way.
Store in a closed container at room temperature for up to two weeks.
Blueberry Bottom Pie is garnished with blueberries and fresh mint. (photo from pxfuel.com)
When I think of summer, I think of fresh fruit. When I think of fresh fruit, I think of pies. Early pies may have originated with Egyptian cakes and ancient Greek pasties filled with fruit. According to Wikipedia, Medieval England had sweet pies, but they were called tarts, and fruit pies were unsweetened, because sugar was a rare and costly “symbol of wealth.” Also according to Wiki, a pie could have a number of items as its filling, but a pastry would have only a single filling. Fruit pie recipes began appearing in the 15th century. Here are recipes for three of my favourite fruit pies.
PEACH PIE
1 1/2 pounds seeded, sliced peaches 1 cup sugar 2 tbsp unsalted butter or margarine 2 tbsp flour 2 large eggs pinch nutmeg nine-inch crust (bought or homemade)
Preheat oven to 350°F. Prepare a nine-inch pie plate with dough.
In a bowl, mix together sugar, butter or margarine, flour, eggs and nutmeg.
Arrange peaches in piecrust. Pour batter over them. Crimp edge of crust.
Bake 50 to 55 minutes or until just set.
BLUEBERRY BOTTOM PIE
2 packages vanilla pudding 1 1/4 cups milk or non-dairy creamer or soymilk 1 1/2 cups pureed blueberries 1/2 tsp cinnamon 2 tsp grated lemon rind 1 baked nine-inch pie shell 3 1/2 cups kosher whipped topping blueberries and mint leaves for garnishes
Check to make sure which vanilla pudding dissolves with non-dairy creamer or soymilk. Combine one package pudding and a quarter cup milk or non-dairy creamer or soymilk, blueberries and cinnamon. Cook until mixture comes to a full boil. Pour into crust and chill.
Prepare remaining pudding and milk or non-dairy creamer or soymilk. Add one teaspoon lemon rind. Pour into bowl, cover with plastic wrap and chill about one hour.
Fold in one cup whipped topping to refrigerated mixture and spoon over blueberry layer.
Combine remaining whipped topping with remaining lemon rind and spoon over filling. Freeze one hour or refrigerate three hours.
Garnish with blueberries and mint leaves before serving.
FAUX CHERRY COBBLER (Cobblers generally have a dough-like topping dropped on top of fruit. This cobbler is more like a pie).
2 cups pitted cherries 1 cup sugar 1 cup flour 1 1/2 tbsp baking powder 1 cup milk or soymilk 2 1/2 tbsp melted butter or margarine brown sugar
Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a square baking dish.
Combine flour, sugar and baking powder in a bowl. Add milk and melted butter or margarine. Pour into a greased baking dish.
Scatter pitted cherries over batter. Sprinkle the top with brown sugar. Bake for about an hour.
Sybil Kaplanis a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.
Yerushalmi kugel by Jamie Geller. (photo from jamiegeller.com)
If I’d known the world was going to be locked down because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I would have stocked up on toilet paper, disinfecting wipes and pasta much sooner. Of course, only one of those is edible.
Desperate measures call for desperate times and, when so many restaurants have closed, cooking has become mandatory. As has self-isolation. Sure, we could order takeout, but I’m still slightly paranoid about who cooks my food. After all, you’re only as healthy as the last person you were in contact with. I rest my case.
I’ve tried to be creative in the kitchen, but, when you’re used to eating sushi at least once a week and shopping for fresh food every day, it gets challenging during a lockdown. Now we eat more pasta. Way more pasta. My husband Harvey loves it. Me, not so much.
Harvey does a Costco run every so often to stock up, but I’m loathe to send him out into the dangerous spittle-filled world of COVID coughs right now. And the regular stores are often out of the basics, at least until recently. To be completely frank, I’m sick of cooking. So, what’s an accidental balabusta to do?
I’ll tell you what I did. I handed Harvey my mother’s tattered Jewish Council Cookbook the other day and pronounced: “Make something!” So, what does he choose from all those geshmak recipes? Tuna noodle casserole. You know the one – it’s composed of Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, Kraft Dinner and a can or two of tuna. If you want to get really fancy shmancy, you can grate some aged cheddar cheese on top. It’s the quintessential comfort food. Minus the sushi. Or, in Harvey’s case, minus the tuna.
My first dip of the fork into the ooey-gooey goodness of the tuna noodle casserole elicited a squeal of surprise. It was actually delicious. Processed deliciousness, but nonetheless yummy in the extreme. The tummy wants what the tummy wants. After a few bites, I expressed my perplexity that I didn’t taste the tuna. Harvey said it had probably sunk to the bottom, so I did a deep dive to the base of the casserole dish, and … bupkis. Harvey had a go at it and, likewise, nada. He humbly walked over to the fridge, opened it, and sheepishly admitted that he’d forgotten to put in the tuna. So, we were eating KD with mushroom soup and a crusty topping of melted cheddar. It was still superb, in a plebian sort of way. Does this count as accidental balabatishness? I didn’t think so. Even if it did, I wasn’t the balabusta who made it.
I’m not proud of what we ate. But I’m sure other people have eaten worse. Much worse. Think fried Spam. Or headcheese (whatever that is). Nobody is going to raise their hand and cop to either of those atrocities, but, trust me, I know where the bodies are buried.
In the end, a casserole that I thought was going to feed us for two nights lasted three. Kind of like a tuna-based Chanukah miracle – the “excess” tuna gave its life for a couple of sandwiches, to boot. The real victory was that I didn’t have to cook for three whole nights.
Don’t think I can’t hear you yelling, “What’s the matter with you people? Haven’t you ever heard of salads?!” Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I have. And, as much as I love salads, it’s not a mutual admiration alliance. Harvey buys pre-bagged salads for himself as a side dish, but rarely do we eat a jacked-up salad for the main course. It could very well land me in the hospital, and I choose not to take that chance. Digestion issues.
By rights, I should probably have scurvy by now, but I have thankfully dodged that bullet. To get some colour in my food, I put steamed or roasted carrots in everything. Sometimes, I even eat broccoli. Is my diet restrictive? Sure. Am I relatively healthy, nonetheless? Yes – the operative word being relatively. My body happens to do well on protein. Lots and lots of protein. Animal protein. I’ll own it: I’m a card-carrying carnivore. Don’t judge me. In case you care, I used to switch things up with more varied restaurant food before COVID-19 came calling. But now that I’m relegated to my own culinary wits, things have gotten kind of serious. And not in a good way.
I am jonesing pretty bad for some agedashi tofu and salmon sashimi, but I don’t dare eat that now. I heard that, if you get takeout food, the first thing you should do is transfer it to your own dishes and reheat it in the microwave to kill off any viruses or bacteria. That’s fine for cooked food, but I believe that eating sashimi during a COVID-19 pandemic is like sticking a hand grenade in your mouth and hoping to have a pleasant day.
Desperate for some variety, I dug through my recipes and came across one for Jerusalem kugel. It still counts as pasta, but I view it as a more cultured, genteel pasta. Usually a side dish, I knew I could convince Harvey that it’s a main (especially if I served him enough of it). I figure I’ll follow it up with a roasted carrot/yam chaser. This particular kugel is satisfyingly savoury and sweet, and the recipe is by Jamie Geller.
SWEET AND PEPPERY JERUSALEM KUGEL
1 (12 ounce) package thin egg noodles 1 cup sugar 1/3 cup oil 4 eggs 1 tsp salt 1/4 tsp to 1 tsp ground pepper
Preheat oven to 350˚F.
Bring a pot of water to a boil. Cook noodles according to package instructions. Strain and set aside.
Add the sugar and oil to a large pot on low heat. Stir until sugar is dissolved and a deep golden caramel colour, but not burnt. This can take 20 minutes or more.
Turn off the heat and add the noodles into the pot of sugar. Immediately stir with a big spoon until the noodles are coated in the caramel. Don’t worry if the sugar hardens into blobs – it will melt in the oven.
Allow the mixture to cool for about 10 minutes. Mix in the eggs, salt and pepper. (Make sure it’s cool so the eggs don’t cook.)
Pour the mixture into a greased springform pan or baking dish. Bake for one hour.
May this COVID-19 pandemic be over with soon. In the meantime, as Dr. Bonnie Henry says: “Be kind. Be Calm. Stay safe.” As for the Accidental Balabusta, figuring out what to cook every night should be my worst problem. Ever.
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.
Garden City Bakery owner Steve Uy, right, with store manager Monica Flores and fellow baker Richard Caranto. (photo from Garden City Bakery)
If you’ve not set foot into Garden City Bakery for some time, you’re in for a surprise. The longtime Richmond kosher bakery at Blundell and Garden City roads came under new ownership in December 2019 and Steve Uy has infused the shop with his personal style and charisma. The interior has been updated and the bakery hums with an energy inspired by Uy’s friendliness and business acumen.
A Manila native, Uy moved to Vancouver in 1989 at the age of 20 and studied economics at Simon Fraser University. By 26, he’d returned to the Philippines, first importing Canadian food products and later immersing himself in the kitchen, where he baked steam buns for grocery stores. In 2017, when he returned to Vancouver with his wife and children, he was determined to continue baking for a living. An ingredient supplier introduced Uy to former Garden City Bakery owner Ivan Gerlach and, within two months, the transaction was complete and Uy was at the helm of the business.
“When I took over the shop, the only thing I wanted was an oven to bake things,” he admitted. “I didn’t even know what kosher was!”
Immediately afterwards, though, his kosher education began in earnest, first under Gerlach’s tutelage and then under the instruction of rabbis from BC Kosher. It was a steep learning curve but Uy was fiercely committed to two things: to respect the Jewish traditions of the bakery and to increase the availability of its signature challahs, challah buns, bagels and pita bread.
“Our goal is to be more visible and more available,” he told the Independent.
Expanding the availability of his baked breads wasn’t easy initially and, when Uy first approached Safeway at King Edward Avenue and Oak Street, he wasn’t met with open arms. “I wondered why a Safeway right beside a Jewish school wouldn’t want to carry kosher bread,” he said. It took four months of repeated meetings and encouragement before the grocery store agreed to carry Garden City Bakery challah and buns. But, as soon as they did, the items disappeared fast and the store increased their order. By January 2020, Safeway had invited Uy to set up his own bread rack in the store, where he could sell even more kosher breads, including pita, bagels and rye bread.
Today, Uy’s baked goods are available at Meinhardt Fine Foods, Stong’s Market, two Save-On Foods (Dunbar and Terra Nova), Omnitsky Kosher, Louis Brier Home and Hospital, two Superstore locations (Marine Drive and Richmond) and a FreshCo. And Uy is just getting started on his wholesale journey.
“We intend to expand into more Safeway stores, Superstores and Save-On Foods in the next year or two,” he said. “There’s a gap in the market we can fill here. Grain bread and artisan bread are popular, but I think there’s a market for kosher bread beyond the Jewish community, for anyone who appreciates a good bread. And, personally, I think challah is one of the best, most beautiful breads in the world. The dough itself is just fabulous.”
While expansion plans have been put on hold by the COVID-19 pandemic, Uy’s ambition has not tapered. A hands-on owner, he does much of the mixing and baking himself, “to keep our secret recipes and to ensure consistency of the product.” Uy also handles delivery of the products to the stores.
His baking repertoire remains much the same as it was previous to his leadership, but a couple of new items include a Filipino soft bun called Pandesal, and a sandwich loaf made from the same dough as challah but more suitable as an everyday bread. “The challah and challah buns are our mainstay and we worry that adding too much variety will bog down the bakery in terms of manpower,” he explained.
A great ambassador for the bakery, he emanates positivity and a can-do attitude. “When I bought the business, I could tell that the sales volume was not great, but I’ve always been a risk-taker and I’m confident in my own abilities,” he said. “I’m really enjoying the business, and owning a kosher bakery has exposed me to a new group of people, a different culture and unique traditions I didn’t previously understand.”
He added, “It’s my sales pitch when I go to new stores. I tell them we’re different because we’re kosher. We’re taking one step at a time, but we’re determined to open up more avenues for kosher bread in British Columbia. We know when people start believing in the product, they’ll buy it.”
Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.
Susie Fishbein’s Butterscotch Matzah Crunch Bars. (photo from kosher.com)
While it is no problem to find candy and cookies that are kosher for Passover, it is also easy to make them yourself. In addition to whatever you may buy at the store, here are some recipes for homemade treats that I enjoy.
MARILYN’S COCONUT MATZAH BALLS (Marilyn, a former college teacher, now in her 90s, and I were neighbours 40 years ago and are still talk-on-the-phone-daily friends. She came to Israel from Boston in 1949. This recipe makes 20 large balls.)
1/3 cup vegetable oil 1 egg 1/4 cup water or coffee or orange juice 1/2 cup sugar 1/2 cup matzah meal 1/4 cup ground nuts (of your choice) 1/4 cup cocoa 2 tbsp cognac, wine or cherry brandy 1 tbsp coconut
Mix oil, egg, water, coffee or orange juice, sugar, matzah meal, nuts, cocoa and liquor in a bowl. Add more matzah meal if needed to make the dough stick together.
Shape into balls. Place coconut in a bowl and roll each ball in coconut. Refrigerate.
MY FAVOURITE FABULOUS FAUX TOFFEE (makes three to four dozen two-inch pieces)
6-inch square matzot (enough to cover an 11-by-17-inch cookie sheet) 1 cup butter (I use unsalted pareve margarine) 1 cup brown sugar (I use 2/3 diabetic sugar and 1/3 cup regular) 12 ounces chocolate chips 1 cup chopped nuts
Preheat oven to 350˚F. Generously grease the cookie sheet.
Arrange matzot to cover entire surface.
In a saucepan, combine butter or margarine and brown sugar. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer, stirring continually, for three minutes. Pour over matzot and bake for five minutes.
Remove from oven and cover with chocolate chips, swirling until melted and evenly spread. Sprinkle with nuts. Cool and refrigerate.
Break into pieces when completely cool.
BUTTERSCOTCH CRUNCH BARS (This is my adaptation from Passover by Design by Susie Fishbein, kosher.com.)
12 tbsp butter or unsalted pareve margarine 1/2 cup brown sugar 4 pieces matzot 1 cup chopped nuts 1 cup shredded coconut 1/2 cup chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350˚F. Cover a cookie sheet with foil.
Line cookie sheet with matzot, breaking as necessary to fit.
In a saucepan, melt butter or margarine and brown sugar, whisking until the mixture is melted and smooth.
Pour brown sugar mixture over matzot, making sure every surface is covered. Bake for 10 minutes.
In a bowl, toss nuts, coconut and chocolate chips. When matzot are baked enough, remove pan from oven and sprinkle an even layer of coconut mixture on top. Cut into bars while warm.
LIL’S PASSOVER APRICOT SQUARES (Lil was a friend from our Overland Park, Kan., synagogue. This recipe makes two dozen.)
1 2/3 cups matzah cake meal 1/3 cup sugar 1/3 cup finely ground toasted almonds 1/3 cup oil 2 tbsp lemon juice 1 tbsp grated lemon zest 1 tsp vanilla 2 1/2 to 3 cups apricot preserves
Preheat oven to 350˚F. Grease a rectangular glass baking pan with vegetable cooking spray.
In a mixing bowl, combine matzah cake meal, sugar and almonds and blend.
In another bowl, mix oil, lemon juice, lemon zest and vanilla. Add to dry ingredients and stir with a fork.
Press 2/3 of the mixture on the bottom of the baking pan. Bake for 25 minutes. Remove from oven and cool slightly.
Spread apricot preserves on crust. Sprinkle remaining half of cake meal mixture on top. Return to oven and bake 25 minutes. Cool then cut into squares.
Sybil Kaplanis a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.
These “quarantini” cookies were baked by Lynne Altow and her aunt, Alexandra Altow. When Queen’s University closed earlier this month, Lynne stayed at her uncle David and aunt Alexandra’s house in Toronto on her way home to Vancouver, where her parents, Lisa and Andrew Altow, and grandparents, Bill and Debby Altow, live. Debby shared this photo with the Independent.
Kermit Soup, ready to serve. (photo by Shelley Civkin)
Treat your friends to one little taste of my Kermit Soup (aka kale-and-potato soup) and I guarantee they’ll be green with envy. Granted, it’s an unholy colour, which could be off-putting to some, but don’t dismiss it out of spoon. Even those who vigorously eschew kale (and aren’t partial to green) will be begging for seconds.
During these seemingly endless, dark days of fall and winter, there’s nothing more comforting than a thick, hearty soup. (Unless of course it’s a healthy serving of 15-year-old Balvenie, but that’s just wasted calories.) To me, soups are the bait-and-switch of mealtimes. If you haven’t been shopping in awhile, and all you’re planning for dinner is tuna sandwiches, then a good, substantial soup can easily step up to the plate and take on the starring role. After all, soup has got so much going for it: it’s filling, scrumptious and everything else pales by comparison. Especially if it’s Kermit Soup (you’ll see what I’m talking about soon enough). Don’t feel you need to apologize for its aberrant tint. I mean, just take a look around at the freakish hair colours you see on the streets. Kermit Soup has absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. Nor do you.
It does help if you have a really good blender to make this soup. In fact, it’s rather essential. I’ve got a Breville at home and that sucker could crush rocks. (I’m pretty sure my blender has a bigger engine than my car.) Yams? No problem. Acorn squash? A joke. Carrots? In its sleep. Not that my recipe calls for any of those. Just saying. So, without further ado – meet the star of the dinner show.
KERMIT SOUP
2 cloves garlic 3 small/medium Yukon gold potatoes, diced half a large yellow onion 6 cups baby kale, chopped and lightly packed (the store wouldn’t let me take it without parental permission, so I used adult kale instead) 4 tbsp unsalted butter 1 quart (4 cups) chicken (or mushroom) broth Salt and pepper to taste
Mince the garlic.
Peel and chop the onion.
Peel and cube the potatoes.
Rinse kale and drain it well. Remove the thick stems then chop it up.
Melt butter over medium heat in a heavy soup pan.
Add garlic, onion, potatoes, and salt and pepper to taste.
Stir and cook for several minutes over medium heat.
Add the broth and bring it to a boil. Skim off fat from the top.
Gently simmer with the lid on for about 15 minutes or until potatoes are tender.
Add the kale and cook without the lid for about three to five minutes or until tender.
Transfer the soup to a blender a few cups at a time and puree. You might want to remove the little circle part of the blender lid to let some of the steam escape (but not while the blender is running). As each pureed batch is ready, pour it into another saucepan.
Ready to serve! It’s even better reheated the next day, and it’s good cold, too. If you’re not too hungry, have some bread with it and you’ve got yourself a light, yet filling fall meal. You’re welcome.
So, by now you’ve devoured your Kermit Soup and tuna sandwiches. To great acclaim. The soup, that is. An hour-and-a-half goes by and you’re jonesing for something sweet. Now what? You could get in your car and drive to some overpriced, hipster dessert restaurant that charges $12.95 for a two-inch purple yam, all-vegan crème brulée. Or, you could rock it old school. In the comfort of your own home. With Weetabix Chocolate Chip Cookies.
Yes, Virginia, Weetabix is more than just a breakfast cereal. Plus, it adds a nice crunchy texture to your cookies that you won’t soon forget (unless you overdo it with that 15-year-old Balvenie I referenced earlier. But that’s on you, not me). I always keep a box of Weetabix around, just in case of a cookie emergency. Which seems to happen with increasing frequency. And there are always chocolate chips hidden in my freezer (as if I don’t know where they are). So, go ahead, don your apron, pretend you’re Suzie Homemaker or Donna Reed and bake your family some irresistible cookies.
WEETABIX CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
4 Weetabix, crushed 1 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp salt 3/4 cup soft butter or margarine 1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar 1/4 cup granulated white sugar 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract 1 egg 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
Mix together crushed Weetabix, flour, baking soda and salt in medium bowl. Set aside.
In a large bowl, using a hand mixer, cream together butter/margarine and sugars. Beat in vanilla and egg.
Add dry ingredients and mix well. Stir in chocolate chips.
Drop dough by tablespoonsful onto an ungreased baking sheet (or line with parchment paper).
Bake at 350°F for 12 minutes (or slightly longer for a crispier cookie).
Eat and repeat. Or eat ’em and weep. I’ll leave that to your discretion. These are so popular that you might want to make two batches at once. Just to be on the safe side. One batch never lasts more than half a day in my home, and there are only two of us. Again, you’re welcome.
These aren’t exactly balabatish recipes. More like nouveau accidental balabusta. But I do stand behind them. You see, I’m channeling my inner balabusta while I make them, and that’s good enough for me. I’ll leave the rugelach, kichele and komish broit to some other ambitious balabusta. On some other day. It just goes to show that food doesn’t need some fancy Yiddish name to taste geshmak. One bite of these Weetabix cookies and one spoonful of this Kermit Soup and you’ll be kvelling all over the place. Just clean up after all that kvelling, OK? Bottom line: it’s all about the heart and soul of the cook.
So, stop kvetching and get thee into the kitchen. Those cookies and soup aren’t going to make themselves. Just promise me one thing – you won’t ask for a refund if you don’t love the Kermit Soup.
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.
Chocolate chips were created when chocolate chip cookies were invented in 1937 – Ruth Graves Wakefield of the Toll House Inn in Whitman, Mass., added cut-up chunks of a semi-sweet Nestlé chocolate bar to a cookie recipe.
The cookies were a huge success, and Wakefield reached an agreement in 1939 with Nestlé to add her recipe to the chocolate bar’s packaging in exchange for a lifetime supply of chocolate. Initially, Nestlé included a small chopping tool with the chocolate bars. In 1941, Nestlé and at least one of its competitors started selling the chocolate in “chip” (or “morsel”) form.
Originally, chocolate chips were made of semi-sweet chocolate, but today there are many flavours of chips, including bittersweet, peanut butter, butterscotch, mint chocolate, white chocolate, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white and dark swirled chips.
Here are some of my favourite recipes.
MOM’S CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES 5 dozen small cookies
1/3 cup oil (Mom, z”l, used 1/2 cup shortening) 1/4 cup brown sugar 1/2 cup white sugar 1 egg 1 package chocolate chips 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp salt (I eliminate this) 1 1/8 cups flour 1/2 cup chopped nuts 1/2 tsp vanilla
Preheat oven to 375°F. Spray cookie sheets with vegetable spray or cover with parchment paper.
Combine oil, sugars and egg in a mixing bowl or food processor.
Spoon on cookie sheets with a teaspoon or tablespoon. Bake for eight to 10 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool on a rack.
ELISHEVA’S CHOCOLATE CHIP OATMEAL COOKIES I tasted these at a Hadassah Israel meeting. They were made by one of our members and I had to have the recipe.
1 cup margarine or butter, softened (I use 3/4 cup oil) 1 1/4 cups firmly packed brown sugar 1/2 cup white sugar 2 eggs 2 tbsp milk (I use Rich’s non-dairy creamer or soy milk) 2 tsp vanilla 1 tsp baking soda 1 3/4 cups flour pinch of salt (which I don’t add) 2 cups uncooked oatmeal 1 package chocolate chips 1 cup coarsely chopped nuts (optional)
Preheat oven to 475°F. Place parchment paper on cookie sheets.
Beat margarine or butter (or oil) and sugars until creamy in a bowl. Add eggs, milk and vanilla. Beat well.
Add flour and baking soda (and salt). Mix well.
Stir in oatmeal, chocolate chips and nuts. Mix well.
Drop by rounded tablespoons onto cookie sheet. Bake for nine or 10 minutes for a chewy cookie, 12 to 13 minutes for a crispy cookie.
DIABETIC (SPLENDA) CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES 30 cookies
2 cups flour 1 tsp baking powder 1 tsp baking soda 1/4 tsp salt (I never add salt) 1 cup melted butter (I use 1/4 cup + 2 tbsp vegetable oil) 1 cup Splenda brown sugar blend 2 large eggs 1 tbsp vanilla extract 2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 375°F. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.
Combine flour, baking powder and baking soda in a bowl. Set aside.
Mix butter (oil) and Splenda in a large bowl. Stir in eggs. Add vanilla and mix. Stir in flour mixture. Fold in chocolate chips.
Drop dough by tablespoon onto cookie sheets. Bake for 11 to 13 minutes. Allow to cool before moving to racks to cool completely.
Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks.
Focaccia straight from the oven. (photo by Shelley Civkin)
Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines, please. Or, in this case, your yeast. From zero to focaccia in one hour.
My unpremeditated transformation from water-burner to bread-baker is shocking even to me. Or especially to me. When hubby Harvey came home one day with a cast-iron pan, I got über excited, thinking I could now fry like my father used to. Though, when frying became a dirty word in the 1990s, he called it sautéeing. But, somehow, sautéeing seemed too prosaic for the mighty cast iron, so I started investigating what else I could do with the skillet.
Thanks to Google and Pinterest’s cookies, they now know that I like baking bread. I automatically get links to recipes for cast-iron bread-baking. Every. Five. Minutes. Enter focaccia, stage right. Or, if you’re Italian … entra nella scena della focaccia a destra.
I perused the myriad recipes and took a few of them on a test drive. Or test bake, as it were. The following recipe overtook the others by a mile, and won in the finest focaccia category. Here’s a link to the winning One-hour Rosemary Focaccia Bread I’ve come to love: flavorthemoments.com/one-hour-rosemary-focaccia-bread. (It actually takes an hour-and-a-half, if you include the time it takes to preheat your oven.)
It’s my go-to quick bread recipe. It’s truly no-fail. Feel free to ditch the garlic and Parmesan, or add more rosemary. You can’t screw up this bread. After my first try, I was hooked. I let the gorgeously golden focaccia cool, sliced it into small rectangles, like they do in Italian restaurants, and dipped it in EVOO (shorthand for extra virgin olive oil). Which made me wonder what an “extra virgin” is? Something to ponder another time. Never mind. Not relevant. Anyway, I’ve made this focaccia several times. Needless to say, I am not getting thinner. But my Italian is improving.
Now that I’ve pretty much nailed down challah and focaccia, I decided to branch out and try making a no-knead round crusty bread. You know, like sourdough. Minus the sour. The kind that requires you to have a Dutch oven. Google and Pinterest are way ahead of me, so they’ve been sending me nonstop recipes and pix of Dutch oven bread. All I had to do was think about crusty bread and they were on it.
I recently learned that not all Dutch ovens are created equal. They’re mostly made from cast iron covered in enamel, but not all of them can withstand the high heat you need to use. Thing is, for crusty bread, you have to heat the Dutch oven to about 450 degrees – empty. Then you put the dough in it. You don’t want to ruin a fancy shmancy Dutch oven over a loaf of bread. Even though my Dutch oven isn’t one of those $400 Le Creuset ones – it’s a $65 one from Costco, which works perfectly for pot roast, chicken and everything in between – I’m loathe to risk ruining it over bread. Sure, I could go buy one of the fancy Dutch ovens but, seriously, $400 for a crusty loaf? Not in this lifetime. I worked too hard to fritter my money away like that. And, like I always say, just because you can afford to buy something, doesn’t mean you should.
So, I improvised and used an ancient Magnalite aluminum-magnesium alloy Dutch oven that belonged to my friend’s late mother. I’m hoping I don’t get Alzheimer’s, what with the aluminum connection, but it’s not like I’m going to be making every single meal in it. Anyway, the bread was a marginal success. The outside looked gorgeously crusty but, once I cut into it, parts were doughy and uncooked. Bake and learn. I’ll try it a few more times, tweaking the temperature, increasing the rising time, etc., and hope for the best. If at first you don’t succeed, well, suck it up and try again.
I can hear some readers wondering why I would want to waste half a day baking bread from scratch, when I could just go out and buy a loaf. Well, there’s something indescribable about the smell of fresh baked bread wafting through my home. It’s a little like a comestible aphrodisiac. It makes me weak at the knees, thinking about the butter melting slowly over the hot bread, as I sniff it lovingly with anticipation. Wait, this is becoming a little X-rated. I need to get a grip. Sorry. Suffice to say that my husband and I adore fresh bread and appreciate the effort it takes to make it. And, since I’m a notorious multi-tasker, I busy myself with other things while the dough is rising, so there’s no wasted time. Like now, for instance. I’m writing this article while waiting for my rosemary and Kalamata olive bread dough to double in size.
Never having been one to let grass grow under my feet, my next culinary foray will be gravlax. Ever since tasting my friend Roxanne’s heavenly gravlax last Pesach, I’ve been itching to give it a go. Since salmon season is upon us, there’s no time like the present. Harvey’s on board too, but not as a cook as much as a taste-tester. From what I can tell, it’s a ridiculously easy thing to make, as long as you have truckloads of salt, sugar, dill and time. No, not thyme. Once I perfect the recipe, I’ll share it with you. But not until then.
You can try till you’re blue in the face to convince me that store-bought food is just as good as homemade, but I’m not buying it. Literally or figuratively. There’s just something about the laying on of hands, the investment of love and effort, and the satisfaction at the end of it all, that makes homemade food so very worth it.
I suspect I might have made a very dedicated homesteader. As long as I had an electric stove and oven, and a good refrigerator. Oh, and maybe somewhere close by where I could get a good decaf, low-foam, lactose-free latte while I was growing my own food, baking bread and churning butter. Am I country girl at heart? Hell, no! I am about as cityfied as they come. To wit, my idea of camping is a Motel 8. And outhouses? They should be outlawed.
Enough said.
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, and currently writes a bi-weekly column about retirement for the Richmond News.
