cooking – Jewish Independent

Scrumptious soup ’n’ cookies

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.

Brisket recipes for holiday

(photo by Josh Evnin)

In traditional Jewish cooking, brisket is most often braised as a pot roast, especially as a holiday main course, usually served at Rosh Hashanah, Passover and on the Sabbath. For reasons of economics and kashrut, it was historically one of the more popular cuts of beef among Ashkenazi Jews. Brisket is also the most popular cut for corned beef, which can be further spiced and smoked to make pastrami. But why not try it for Chanukah? It’d make a great holiday main dish.

First, some background. Brisket is a cut of meat from the breast or lower chest of a cow. It is one of the nine primal cuts of beef, though the precise definition of the cut differs internationally. The brisket muscles include the superficial and deep pectorals. As cattle do not have collarbones, these muscles support about 60% of the body weight of standing or moving cattle. This requires a significant amount of connective tissue, so the resulting meat must be cooked correctly to tenderize the connective tissue. The term brisket is derived from the Middle English brusket, which comes from the earlier Old Norse brjósk, meaning cartilage.

MOM’S EASY-TO-MAKE BRISKET
6-8 servings

4-pound brisket
2/3 package onion soup mix
paprika
parsley flakes
dill
6 carrots
8 potatoes

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Place the brisket in a foil-line baking pan. Sprinkle onion soup mix, paprika, parsley flakes and dill on top. Add carrots and potatoes. Seal in foil.
Bake for one hour per pound of meat.

BRISKET AND FRUIT
8-10 servings

2 sliced onions
1 3- to 4-pound brisket
1 1/2 cups beer or wine
1 cup pitted prunes
1 cup dry apricots
3 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp orange marmalade
1 tsp brandy
1 tsp grated lemon peel
juice of 1 lemon
3/4 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line a baking pan with foil to cover brisket.
Sprinkle half the onions on foil, place brisket on top; place remaining onions on top of brisket and seal. Roast three hours.
Combine beer or wine, prunes, apricots, sugar, marmalade, brandy, lemon peel, lemon juice, ginger, cinnamon and Worcestershire sauce in a bowl and blend.
Spread mixture on top of brisket. Reduce heat to 300°F. Cover pan and cook one hour, adding more beer or wine if sauce appears dry.

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.

Trio of cheesy pastas

(photo from Umbe Ber/Pixabay)

Every time I do a food column, I look up its history, and I am continually fascinated by what I learn. We all know what is pasta – unleavened semolina mixed with water or eggs and formed into various shapes. It was not until 1874 that the word pasta came into popular use, from the Italian. However, there is mention, as early as the first century CE of fried dough as an everyday food.

Lagana is mentioned in a fifth-century cookbook as an ancient version of lasagna. A kind of boiled dough is mentioned in the Jerusalem Talmud, common in ancient Israel from the third to fifth centuries CE. Dry pasta became popular in the 14th and 15th centuries; tomatoes came to Italy in the 16th century and to Italian cuisine in the 17th century. Pasta became popular in North America with the Italian immigration at the beginning of the 20th century.

How many kinds of pasta do you think there are – long, medium length, short cut, stretch, soup, with fillings and gnocchi? There are 163!

Here are some recipes, which use different kinds of pasta.

MY FAVOURITE LO-CAL FETTUCCINE ALFREDO
4 servings

8 ounces fettuccine noodles
4 cups pareve chicken soup
1 cup low-fat sour cream
2 tbsp low-fat margarine
2 minced garlic cloves
3 tbsp chopped parsley
2 tbsp Parmesan cheese

Cook noodles in chicken soup 12 minutes. Drain. Place in a bowl.
In a frying pan, melt margarine. Sauté garlic one minute. Reduce heat and add sour cream and blend. Add noodles.
Serve with parsley and Parmesan cheese.

CHEESY FETTUCCINE ALFREDO
4 servings

1/3 cup butter or margarine
8 ounces cooked, drained egg noodles
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup grated Swiss cheese
1/2 cup half and half

Melt butter or margarine in a frying pan.
Add noodles and toss well.
Sprinkle with cheese and toss gently until cheeses are melted and blended.
Add half and half just to heat. Serve at once.

PENNE WITH EGGPLANT, OLIVES AND FETA
4-5 servings

3 tbsp olive oil
2 1/2 diced medium red bell peppers
3 chopped garlic cloves
1/2 pound eggplant, cut into 1//2-inch cubes
1 1/2 tsp oregano
1 1/2 cups canned tomatoes in juice diced or 1 pound regular diced tomatoes
1/2 cup thinly sliced fresh basil or 1/4 cup dry
1/4 cup pitted Kalamata or other black-brine cured olives
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 3/4 cups crumbled feta cheese

Spray a rectangular baking dish with vegetable spray. Preheat oven to 350°F.
Heat oil in a large pot. Add bell peppers and garlic. Sauté three minutes. Add eggplant and oregano. Reduce heat, cover and cook until eggplant is soft (about 15 minutes).
Add tomatoes, 1/4 cup fresh basil (or 1/8 cup dry), olives, tomato paste and vinegar. Cover and simmer about 12 minutes.
Cook pasta in boiling salt water until just tender. Drain well.
Stir pasta into vegetable mixture. Transfer to baking dish and bake for 20 minutes. Sprinkle with feta and 1/4 cup fresh (or 1/8 cup dry) basil.

Pot roast for Rosh Hashanah

There’s no denying that food is an insanely large part of Jewish life. Whether we’re cooking it, eating it or writing about it, our lives inexorably orbit around it. It’s true that most religions celebrate their holidays, at least partially, through food. But we Jews have taken the concept to nosebleed-worthy stratospheric heights. If someone tells you their son is becoming bar mitzvah, our first question is not “Which shul?” but “What are you serving?” A bris? We don’t ask: “What time?” but rather, “What can I make?”

It’s not that modern-day Yiddishkeit revolves around food, but it kinda does. I’m fully aware that we’re supposed to focus on blessing and elevating the food we eat, since it is meaningless on its own. From a religious perspective, food is merely the vehicle to give us the strength to do mitzvahs and study Torah. I get it. But how can you ignore the deliciousness of a rock-star chicken soup or a melt-in-your-mouth brisket?

When you pair Rosh Hashanah and food, what do you get? Pure joy. And maybe a little indigestion, if there’s excess onion and garlic on the guest list. We all know that the High Holidays are a time to relax with family, eat lovingly prepared meals and go to shul. And, while shul is certainly important, for some, the highlight is the food.

From many years of observation, I’ve deduced that there are three main contenders at the Ashkenazi Rosh Hashanah table: matzah ball soup, brisket and gefilte fish. And maybe chicken. Or salmon, if you’re a true Vancouverite. Anything else is considered “alternative.” Seriously, when was the last time someone served tofu or sunomono at Rosh Hashanah dinner? Asked and answered.

Being firmly entrenched in the carnivore camp, I decided I’m going to make a pot roast for Rosh Hashanah this year. Being a pot roast virgin, until recently I knew next to nothing about this cut of meat or how to cook it. How did I get to be 63 years old without knowing these things? Rhetorical question. Anyway, I did what any self-respecting Accidental Balabusta would do – I Googled it. I found a recipe from the Food Network by Ree Drummond, called Perfect Pot Roast! I followed the recipe religiously (OK, minus the sheitel), except I made a mini-roast (one-and-three-quarter pounds) in case I screwed it up. And I used beef blade roast, which is the same as chuck roast, apparently. I cooked it at 275˚F for two-and-a-half hours. It turned out as scrumptious as something a bubbe would make. Only better. Modesty, wherefore art thou?

Over the years, I’ve heard gossip about pot roast: that it calls for a cheap, tough cut of meat (true); that it’s not really a Jewish cut of meat (see Snobbery 101); and that only goyim eat it (see Racism 101). I’m living proof that pot roast is a very Jewish thing. And, excuse me if I brag, but my newfound pot roast is beyond delicious. Or, to use the vernacular, a mechaye.

I feel compelled to mention something a little odd at this juncture. When I brought my first pot roast and took it out of the package, I noticed it had heavy twine wrapped around it. I wondered whether I’d purchased the B&D variety by mistake. Googling the twine part set my mind at ease. I mean, who wants to serve a kinky Rosh Hashanah pot roast?

Call me clairvoyant or, on second thought, don’t (that’s really not a Jewish thing), but I think you might be chomping at the bit for this recipe. Wait no longer. Allow me to introduce you to the Perfect Pot Roast by Ree Drummond. BTW, it calls for a Dutch oven, but any deep, covered roasting pan will do just fine. (Don’t feel bad, I had to Google Dutch oven, too.) Go ahead, cook it and tell me if this doesn’t taste Jewish.

PERFECT POT ROAST

Salt and ground black pepper
One 3-5 pound chuck roast (same as beef blade roast)
2-3 tbsp olive oil
2 whole onions, peeled and halved
6-8 whole carrots, peeled and cut into 2-inch pieces
1 cup red wine (doesn’t need to be anything fancy)
3 cups beef broth
2-3 sprigs fresh rosemary
2-3 sprigs fresh thyme
2-3 potatoes, peeled and cut into pieces

Preheat oven to 275˚F.
Generously salt and pepper the roast.
Heat the olive oil in a large fry pan or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the halved onions to the pot, browning them on both sides. Remove the onions to a plate.
Throw the carrots into the same fry pan or Dutch oven and toss them around a bit until slightly browned. Set aside the carrots with the onions.
If needed, add a bit more olive oil to the fry pan or Dutch oven. Place the meat in the fry pan or Dutch oven and sear it for about a minute on all sides, until it is nice and brown all over. Remove the roast to a plate.
With the burner still on medium-high, use either red wine or beef broth (about one cup) to deglaze the fry pan or Dutch oven, scraping the bottom with a whisk. Put the roast back into the Dutch oven (or deep, covered roasting pan) and add enough beef broth to cover the meat halfway.
Add in the onions and the carrots, along with the fresh herbs. Add potatoes, too (optional).
Put the lid on, then roast it.
The original recipe says to roast a three-pound roast for three hours or a four-to-five-pound roast for four hours. I personally don’t think this is nearly time enough. When I cooked two two-pound roasts in a single roaster at once, it took six-and-a-half hours to cook. The roast is ready when it’s fall-apart tender. I think the longer you cook it, the more tender it gets. It’s hard to screw this up, unless you undercook it.

Important note: don’t get too close to your Dutch oven when you lift the lid during cooking or you’ll get what I call the “pot roast facial.” I’m not sure your pores will appreciate all that meaty steam. But who am I to say? Just don’t blame me if you get third-degree facial burns. Bon appetit! Or, eat it and weep. From joy, that is.

May you all have a happy, healthy, prosperous and peaceful New Year!

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.

Enter focaccia, stage right

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.

Cucumber salads for summer

(photo by Nick Youngson/Alpha Stock Images)

Whether you go to farmers markets or elsewhere to buy your summer produce, cucumbers are a must. In Jerusalem, we have all kinds of cucumbers year-round but my favourite in Machaneh Yehudah is one with a fuzzy, pale green skin called melafafon beladi (native, urban or indigenous to the country) or, in Arabic, fauze. Much more expensive than regular cucumbers, the taste is special, but the following recipes will taste great with regular cucumbers.

CUCUMBER SALAD BOATS
This recipe came from Gourmet Magazine probably more than 30 years ago. It makes 6 servings.

2 large cucumbers, peeled and halved lengthwise
1 cup grated carrots
1 cup grated radishes
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp lemon juice
salt and pepper to taste

In a bowl, combine grated carrots, radishes, oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper.
Scoop out some of the seeds, then place cucumbers on a plate and fill with vegetables. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill for at least one hour. To serve, cut each cucumber into thirds.

SEAWEED AND CUCUMBER SALAD
4 servings

1/2 cup washed seaweed
1/2 bunch green onions
4-6 cucumbers
2 1/2 tbsp lemon juice
1/4 tsp sesame oil
3 tbsp soy sauce or teriyaki sauce
2 tbsp sesame seeds or chopped cashew nuts (optional)

Chop seaweed and green onions in a bowl. Chop cucumbers coarsely and add to bowl.
In a jar with a lid, mix lemon juice, sesame oil, soy sauce or teriyaki sauce. Pour over salad. Sprinkle sesame seeds or cashew nuts on top before serving.

TURKISH CUCUMBER AND YOGURT SALAD
This dish is often called cacik or jajik. Recipe makes 4-6 servings.

2 large cucumbers, sliced
salt to taste
1 crushed garlic clove
2 tsp white vinegar
1/2 tsp chopped dill
2/3 cup yogurt
1 tbsp chopped fresh mint
2 tbsp oil

In a bowl, combine cucumber slices, salt, garlic, vinegar, dill and yogurt and blend.
Sprinkle mint and oil on top before serving.

Wonders of asparagus

(photo from pixnio.com)

In Israel, asparagus is not widely seen in the outdoor markets but, when it is, I am always happy to buy it. There are at least 10 reasons why we should eat more asparagus.

It contains lots of fibre, making it a good choice if you’re trying to lose weight, because your body digests fibre slowly, which keeps you feeling full in between meals. (It is also low in fat and calories: one cup is a mere 32 calories.)
It contains high levels of the amino acid asparagine, making it a natural diuretic. In other words, eating more of the spears can help flush excess fluid and salt from your body, which may help prevent urinary tract infections.
It is full of antioxidants that could help your body fight free radicals.
It contains vitamin E, another important antioxidant, which helps strengthen your immune system and protects cells from the harmful effects of free radicals.
It is a natural aphrodisiac, thanks to vitamin B6 and folate.
The minerals and amino acids in asparagus extract may help ease hangovers and protect liver cells from the toxins in alcohol.
It beats bloating by promoting overall digestive health – another benefit of all that fibre. And, thanks to prebiotics, which encourage a healthy balance of good bacteria, or probiotics, in your digestive tract, it can also reduce gas. Relatedly, since asparagus is a diuretic, it helps flush excess liquid, combating belly bulge.
It’s a rich source of folic acid, providing 22% of the recommended daily allowance of folic acid.
It’s filled with vitamin K, crucial for coagulation, which helps your body stop bleeding after a cut, as well as bone health.
It boosts your mood because it is full of folate, a B vitamin that could lift your spirits and help ward off irritability. Asparagus also contains high levels of tryptophan, an amino acid that has been similarly linked to improved mood.

Need I say more? Buy asparagus with straight stalks, closed compact tips and good green colour. Keep refrigerated and use within one or two days. Bend the stalk near the bottom to snap off the part that is too tough to eat. Cook in one inch of boiling salt water. Let the water boil again and cover. Cook whole stalks about five minutes and cut-up pieces about three minutes. Here are some ways to use asparagus.

VINAIGRETTE

1/4 cup olive oil or canola oil
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp sugar
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a blender and mix for one minute. Pour over cooked asparagus.

MICROWAVED IN LEMON BUTTER DIJON SAUCE
(3-4 servings)

2 1/2 tbsp canola or olive oil
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp low-sodium soy sauce
1/2 tsp minced garlic
2 tbsp minced white onion
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 pound asparagus
chives or green onions for garnish

Arrange asparagus in a microwave steaming bag. Add oil, lemon juice, mustard, soy sauce, garlic, onion, salt and pepper. Microwave four to five minutes; let stand one minute. Place in serving bowl and garnish with chives or green onion.

FLAMANDE SAUCE
6 servings

4 mashed hard-boiled egg yolks
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp olive or canola oil or 1/2 cup melted margarine or butter
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley

Whisk oil or butter or margarine into egg yolks in a saucepan. Add parsley and heat sauce. Pour over cooked asparagus.

STEAMED WITH TARRAGON SAUCE
(6 servings)

1 1/2 pounds trimmed asparagus
2 tsp olive oil
6 thinly sliced scallions
1 1/2 tbsp chopped fresh tarragon or 3/4 tsp dry tarragon
3 tbsp lemon juice or cider vinegar
dash sea salt
3 tbsp water

Steam asparagus two to five minutes, rinse, drain and place in serving bowl. Heat oil in a pan and sauté scallions one to two minutes. Add tarragon, lemon juice or vinegar, salt and water; cook one to two minutes. Pour over asparagus.

Why dairy on Shavuot? Oh, and cheescake recipes

On the second day of Passover, we begin to count the omer (sheaves of a harvested crop). The counting concludes seven weeks later, with Shavuot (the Feast of Weeks), which has different names, but is associated with one type of food: dairy products. Hence, my sharing a few cheesecake recipes.

Song of Songs Chapter 4 reads, “honey and milk are under thy tongue,” a reference to the Torah being as nourishing as milk and as sweet as honey. Thus, on the holiday celebrating the giving of the Torah, it became traditional to eat foods with milk and honey.

Interpreters of the Tanach liked to use gematria (Jewish system of assigning numerical values to words and phrases, based on their letters). For example, Psalm 68 is read on Shavuot and, in verse 16, it reads: “A mount of G-d is the mountain of Bashan.” The Hebrew for peaks is gavnuneem, which sounds like gveeneh (cheese). One could interpret this to mean that, on Shavuot, we should eat mountains of cheese.

Another example: the values of the Hebrew letters in chalav (milk) sum to 40. Moses spent 40 days on Mount Sinai, so we eat foods with milk.

As well, there is a legend that says, until Moses descended with the Torah, kashrut was unknown so, rather than prepare the meat as per the new rules, the people ate dairy. Pragmatically, since Shavuot is a summer festival and Israel is hot, it was logical to eat light, dairy foods. Also, sheep give birth around this time, so milk and cheese are plentiful.

In the Shulchan Aruch (code of Jewish law), Rabbi Moses Isserles wrote: “It is a universal custom to eat dairy food on the first day of Shavuot.”

CRUSTLESS CHEESECAKE

1 cup cream cheese
1 1/2 cups creamed cottage cheese
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sour cream

Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray vegetable shortening in a nine-inch round cake pan.
Mix together cream cheese, creamed cottage cheese, sugar, eggs and vanilla. Pour into pan.
Bake 35-40 minutes or until centre firm.
Remove from oven and spread with sour cream while cake is hot. Cool then refrigerate.

BLENDER CHEESECAKE

crust:
15 graham crackers
1 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup melted margarine or 3 tbsp vegetable oil

filling:
1 envelope unflavoured gelatin
1 tbsp lemon juice
grated peel of 1 lemon
1/2 cup hot water or milk
1/3 cup sugar
2 egg yolks
1 package cream cheese
1 heaping cup crushed ice
1 cup sour cream

Break five crackers into quarters, blend to crumbs. Empty into bowl. Repeat twice more.
Stir in sugar and cinnamon. Add melted margarine or oil and mix until crumbs are moist. Grease a spring form pan. Press crust against sides and chill.
Mix in blender gelatin, lemon juice, lemon peel, hot water or milk 40 seconds.
Add sugar, egg yolks and cream cheese and blend 10 seconds. Add ice and sour cream and blend 15 seconds.
Pour onto crumb crust and chill.

MY MOM’S (Z”L) SCRUMPTIOUS CHEESE CAKE

crust:
2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/2 cup butter or margarine or 1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp oil
1/4 cup sugar
dash cinnamon

filling:
1 1/2 cups cream cheese
2 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla

topping:
2 cups sour cream
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Combine crushed crackers, butter, margarine or oil, sugar and cinnamon and press into spring form pan.
Bake 10 minutes.
Combine the filling’s cream cheese, eggs, sugar and vanilla with a mixer until fluffy. Pour into crust and bake 30 minutes.
Beat topping’s sour cream, sugar and vanilla. When cake is done, remove from oven and spread topping on it. Return to oven and bake 10 minutes.
Serve with cherries, crushed pineapple or strawberries on top.

JCC celebrates Israeli culture

The outdoor fair features live entertainment. (photo by Galit Lewinski)

The Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver invites the entire community to its annual JCC Festival Ha’Rikud. The theme this year is “Seasons of Israel,” with a variety of programs to inspire, inform and entertain visitors. The highlight of the month-long celebration, which runs May 9-26, will be the outdoor community fair.

Beginning at noon on Sunday, May 12, the JCC parking lot will be transformed into an Israeli street fair with food trucks offering shwarma, falafel, vegan Middle Eastern choices and other popular treats; a marketplace (shuk); live music performances; family activities; dancing and more. Admission is free and everyone is welcome.

photo - Israeli culinary journalist Gil Hovav will give a presentation — Israeli culinary journalist Gil Hovav will give a presentation. *(photo from JCC)*

For Israeli dance lovers, there will be two shows in the Rothstein Theatre, at 1 and 3 p.m., featuring Orr Vancouver dancers and visiting performers from Mexico and Miami. For foodies, there will be a presentation at 5 p.m. by Gil Hovav, a leading Israeli culinary journalist, author, TV personality and speaker.

Other festival events include a group art exhibition in the Zack Gallery, which opens May 9; Israeli recreational dance workshops May 10-12, hosted by the Vancouver Israeli Folk Dance Society; an evening of poetry inspired by the artwork in the gallery, on May 16; and an Israeli song sing-along on May 26. Visit israelifestival.com for the complete schedule.

Learn from a cooking master

I don’t do it often, but I like cooking. Actually, I cook almost every day, but rarely cook with a capital C. My mother taught me the basics, and I appreciate not only good food, but the company that generally goes with it. When a close friend took a cooking class and shared some of the science behind what makes an excellent meal versus a mediocre one, I was fascinated.

In looking for more in-depth information than is normally in a cookbook, I came across the bestseller and multiple-award-winner Salt Fat Acid Heat by Samin NosratSamin Nosrat, which was published by Simon & Schuster in 2017. The timing of my discovery was not coincidental. Nosrat’s Netflix series by the same name had recently premièred, in October 2018.

I knew there was a small Jewish connection to the book – author and food expert Michael Pollan had written the foreword. But then, the same friend who inspired my interest in the technical aspects of cooking told me she thought the illustrator might be Jewish. And, she was right! Wendy MacNaughton – whose clients include the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Time Magazine, Bon Appetit, Gastronomica and many others, including Simon & Schuster – is Jewish. (With a name like Ramsay, I should have looked into it further right away; next time, I will.) With this added information, I could easily justify asking for a review copy from the publisher, and did.

Salt Fat Acid Heat is not a cookbook that you just pop open, pick a recipe and make it, though you could do that. There are plenty of recipes for salads, pasta, fish, chicken, meat, sweets and more. Shaved carrot salad with ginger and lime, garlicky green beans, beer-battered fish (which also contains vodka, apparently), and fresh ginger and molasses cake are top of my list to try. There are a couple hundred pages of recipes, plus some suggested menus, chefs and authors to look for online or in books, a four-page bibliography, an index and an illustrated list of kitchen and pantry essentials.

In this latter part of the cookbook, there is also a Cooking Lessons section based on the enormous amount of information Nosrat imparts in the first 200 pages about salt, fat, acid and heat. So, for example, to put what you learned about seasoning from within (salt), make spicy brined turkey breast; about emulsions (fat), pasta Alfredo; about layering acid, balsamic vinaigrette; and about preserving tenderness (heat), some scrambled eggs. Other lessons focus on timing, knife skills and improvising with leftovers.

What makes this cookbook a must-have for foodies and cooks of any level, is not only the detail into which Nosrat goes about the four elements that make for good cooking, but that, in discussing the details, she communicates and almost transfers her love of and excitement about food and cooking to the reader. It’s hard to read this book and not be tempted to head to the store to buy the umpteen types of salt that exist (who knew?) or a selection of olive oils to taste, to the market for the freshest of fruits and vegetables, or to the butcher for the best cuts of meat.

Nosrat is all about the experience of cooking – taste and taste again, and don’t be afraid to experiment. As Pollan writes in the foreword, “Even though it contains plenty of excellent recipes, this is a book concerned foremost with principles…. Master these principles, [Nosrat] promises, and you will be able to cook delicious food of any kind, in any tradition, whether a salad dressing or braise or a galette.”

illustration - Salt Fat Acid Heat caesar salad made by Samin Nosrat, illustrated by Wendy MacNaughton — A Caesar salad, as made by Samin Nosrat and illustrated by Wendy MacNaughton in Nosrat’s Salt Fat Acid Heat.

The full-colour illustrations are critical to what makes Salt Fat Acid Heat such an incredible resource and enjoyable read. From drawings of things that don’t lend themselves easily to depiction, such as grains of salt, a chemical reaction and saffron, to making tables, charts, Venn diagrams, frying instructions, etc., more fun and easy to understand, MacNaughton helps Nosrat explain the art and science of cooking.

The size and weight of Salt Fat Acid Heat is daunting, until you open it. As Nosrat writes about how to use the book, “Pay attention to the techniques, the science and stories, but don’t worry too much about committing it all to memory. Come back again later to revisit the concepts that are relevant to you.” But, most importantly, she emphasizes, “Don’t forget to enjoy the pleasures, both small and large, implicit to cooking and eating with people you love!”