seder – Jewish Independent

The beauty of creation

In Israel, Tu b’Shevat is a day for planting saplings. (photo from JNF via israel21c.org)

“Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps the singing bird will come.” This lovely quotation is not from our sages, but is an old Chinese proverb. Nevertheless, it seems appropriate for Tu b’Shevat, the New Year of the Trees, which falls this year on Jan. 21.

Of course, we have our own Jewish sources. For example, “When you see handsome people or fine trees, pronounce the benediction, ‘Praised be He who created beautiful things.’” (Tosefta: Berakot 7:4) Trees have a great significance in Judaism and, long before “ecology” became a popular word, Jews were commanded, even in times of war, when besieging a city, to not destroy its trees. (Deuteronomy 20:19)

Trees were sacred to many people. Pagans believed that gods inhabited them and took their forms. They were druidic, rising out of the earth and tossing their hair. They cooled, sheltered and calmed. It is easy to understand reverence for the splendor and dignity of trees, but only Judaism has a new year for them, which falls on 15th day of the Hebrew month of Shevat (Tu b’Shevat).

In Israel, this date once marked the time from which to count the age of the tree for reasons of tithe or taxes, and also to indicate the maturation of the fruit of the tree. Even today, fruit cannot be eaten until the fourth year, so Tu b’Shevat standardizes the birthday of trees.

The holiday doesn’t commemorate any great historical event, and there are no special prayers in the synagogue. It is a lovely time, ushered in by blossoming white almond trees with their promise of warm summer weather.

Tu b’Shevat is traditionally a time for planting every variety of tree. The Talmud mentions “the joyous planting” on happy occasions. There was a delightful custom of planting a cedar when a boy was born and a cypress sapling at the birth of a girl. When a couple married, the wood of the trees would be used as poles to support the wedding canopy.

In Israel, it is a day for children and teens to go with their teachers into the hills and valleys and plant tens of thousands of saplings. There is also a custom to eat all the fruits of Israel – olives, dates, grapes, figs, citrus, apples, bananas, nuts and pears, which grow in great abundance.

Many scholars stay up late on the eve of Tu b’Shevat, reciting biblical passages dealing with the earth’s fertility. They read from Genesis how trees were created along with all the plants; from Leviticus how the Divine promised abundance as a reward for keeping the commandments; and from Ezekiel 17, the parable of the spreading vine, symbolizing the people of Israel.

Many people hold a special seder to celebrate the holiday, the New Year of the Tree of Life. They drink four cups of wine, beginning with white wine and ending with red, with the second cup a mixture more of white and the third more of red wine. It is rather like the landscape, as it changes from white (pale narcissus and crocus) to red (anemones and tulips) as Tu b’Shevat approaches.

As well as being a birthday, Tu b’Shevat is also a day of judgment for the trees, which ones will thrive and be healthy, which ones will wither and die. Chassidim pray for the etrogim, that they may grow in beauty and perfection for Sukkot.

Planting trees is very significant for Jews, the indestructible people for whom faith in the future is almost an emblem. We plant trees whose fruit we will not eat and in whose shade we will not sit. The one who fears that the world will end tomorrow or next year does not plant trees.

As well, Tu b’Shevat affirms that the soil of Israel is holy. The people and the land have a mystic affinity in Judaism, and the New Year of the Trees reminds us every year of the wonder of God’s creation.

Dvora Waysman is a Jerusalem-based author. She has written 14 books, including The Pomegranate Pendant, which was made into a movie, and her latest novella, Searching for Sarah. She can be contacted at [email protected] or through her blog dvorawaysman.com.

Reflections on Pesach

Passover is coming next week, yet it seems to have been with us in spirit a great deal this year. Many Jewish individuals and congregations in Vancouver and elsewhere have been involved in welcoming Syrian and Iraqi refugees fleeing tyranny and violence. And, almost inevitably, part of the justification for helping has been the Exodus story.

Through our religious teachings and rituals, we are engaged in applying the experiences of the past to the events of the present. The Pesach story is certainly applicable when a people is in need of refuge. So is the more recent, and less triumphal, story of the Jewish experience in the 20th century, which saw every nation on earth shut its doors to desperate refugees until it was too late. (See “Refugee policy evolves.”)

As we join together at seder tables around the city and around the world, let us continue to invite the lessons of the past to illuminate our path to the future.

At moments during the holidays, we are encouraged to seek out the transcendent values in our traditions and integrate them into our lives so that we can make a better world. It is clear from the work being done to aid refugees that these values are already well entrenched in so many individuals and congregations. Let this Passover be a time of rededication for all of us to the values that welcome the stranger, show gratitude, celebrate freedom and hasten the world we seek.

Was the Last Supper a seder?

“The Last Supper,” by Juan de Juanes (also known as Vicente Juan Masip), circa 1562, housed in Prado Museum. (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Nearly every year around the time of the Jewish holiday of Passover and the Christian holiday of Easter, theologians and historians start to ask the same question. Was Jesus’ Last Supper a Passover seder?

“It is all very mysterious,” said Rabbi Raymond Apple, rabbi emeritus of the Great Synagogue in Sydney, Australia.

Let’s start with the facts. There are four accounts in the New Testament that refer to the Last Supper with reference to the Passover holiday. They are Mark 14:12-31, Matthew 26:17-30, Luke 22:1-19 and John 13:1-30. But Mark, Matthew and Luke are synoptic Gospels, which means they are closely related and best studied together, making the three Gospels – according to Jonathan Klawans, a professor in Boston University’s department of religion – “one testimony, which was then copied twice.”

“Mark … fashioned and inserted a single ‘Passover’ paragraph (14:12-16) … between what we identify as 14:11-17,” explained author Michael J. Cook, a professor of Judeo-Christian studies at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. “So, the entire problem resides with Mark’s text.”

According to Mark’s text, Jesus prepared for the Last Supper on “the first day of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb.”

We know that the Passover lamb was sacrificed on the 14th day of the Hebrew month of Nissan, and consumed by Jewish families either on that night or the onset of the 15th day of Nissan.

Klawans notes that there are those who can cite no fewer than 14 parallels between the account described in Mark and the modern-day Passover seder. These include the bread and wine, the hymn or blessings that were recited and the reclining diners. Jews at their seders discuss the symbolism of the Passover meal; Jesus at his Last Supper discussed the symbolism of the wine (“This is the blood of my covenant”) and the bread (“Take, eat; this is my body”).

Nonetheless, scholars Klawans, Apple and Cook all do not believe that Jesus’ Last Supper was a Passover seder, for several reasons.

For starters, the parallels that can be drawn seem to be those that are general, rather than decisive. It would not be uncanny for Jesus to eat a meal with his disciples in Jerusalem. During that meal, they would have reclined, broken bread, drank wine and possibly even sang a hymn.

“Such behavior may have been characteristic of the Passover meal, but it is equally characteristic of practically any Jewish meal [at the time],” said Klawans.

Some key Passover elements are missing from the Last Supper: the Passover lamb, references to matzah (unleavened bread), the bitter herbs, charoset, the four cups of wine, the recitation of the Four Questions and the narrative retelling of the Passover story.

Moreover, the parallels drawn between the Last Supper and the Passover seder ritual we celebrate today assume that the seder as we know it was celebrated in Jesus’ day. But this is not the case. Nearly all scholars agree that the modern Passover Haggadah and the rabbinic accounts of Passover traditions all emanate from after the destruction of the first Jewish Temple in the year 70 CE. The Gospels date Jesus’ ministry from around 26 CE to early 37 CE, with Jesus’ death coming between 30 and 33 CE.

“At that time, the core element of the Passover observance had been Jerusalem’s sacrificial cult, from 621 BCE up until 70 CE,” said Cook. “Jewish families brought lambs for sacrifice on the Temple altar as biblically prescribed.… For the ceremony, the kohanim (Jewish priests) conducted the sacrificial rite. Then families retrieved and consumed their meat as part of their Passover meal, which also included unleavened bread and bitter herbs. The Passover meals Jesus experienced in his lifetime would have had to be along these Temple-centred lines.”

Klawans said many people assume that Jesus ate matzah at his Last Supper because Catholics eat wafers as their Eucharist bread. The custom of using wafers, however, does not date back as far as one might think, but rather only to medieval times. The oldest customs in Orthodox Christian churches involve bread, and the New Testament describes bread, not unleavened bread.

“There is no reason to think the bread was matzah unless that was specified,” Klawans said.

Additionally, Klawans said it is impractical for Jesus’ crucifixion to have taken place on Passover, as the Sanhedrin (Jewish High Court of 70 elders) would not have worked on the yom tov, which was already one of the Israelites’ most important pilgrimage festivals.

Create your own clay camel

How fast time flies. Passover is almost here again, and it’s time to prepare a new tutorial, I said to my 7-year-old daughter while getting out a magic box with colorful modeling clay.

At school, we are reading a lot about Passover right now, she said to me. When the Jewish people crossed the dessert, they had camels with them, who carried people and their belongings. Mom, can you teach me how to model a baby camel? Please, mom, can you?

Of course I can, my dear. Come over here, I said, inviting my daughter to join me at the table to work on the model of a baby camel. For the young readers of Jewish Independent, as always, I have prepared pictures to demonstrate the process. Find yourself a comfortable seat and start working on your creation!

1. Take a few pieces of modeling clay and a toothpick. Mostly we will work with orange color, but we will also use some brown, white and black pieces.

2. Prepare equal amounts of clay to form the baby camel’s head, neck, body with two humps and four legs.

3-4. Bend the legs a little in the middle and finish them with brown cushion-like hooves, perhaps parted in the middle front. Connect the neck, body and hooves.

5. For the head, you can use white and black pieces of clay for the eyes. Or blue or green clay, if you have it. Take some brown clay and shape the nose and also give your camel a tuft of hair on top of its head.

6. Cover the tips of the humps and tail with tufts of hair as well. We have made our baby camel! You can now take your new little friend for a walk.

Isn’t it great to make toys with your own hands? You will also make your family happy by adding your creation to the Passover seder table. If you take a picture of your baby camel and print it, you will have a real postcard.

Let your imagination guide you and join our art lab! Send photos of your artwork to [email protected], and you may have a chance to win Curly Orli Goes to Vancouver, a book illustrated with clay pictures.

Wishing you a kosher and happy Pesach, dear friends! See you next time.

Lana Lagoonca is a graphic designer, author and illustrator. At curlyorli.com, there are more free lessons, along with information about Curly Orli merchandise.

Bold, new menus for Pesach

Paula Shoyer’s eggplant parmesan, featured in her latest cookbook, The New Passover Menu. (photo by Michael Bennett Kress)

The New Passover Menu by Paula Shoyer (Sterling, 2014) emboldened me. It was the whole package: the full-color photos, the clear text (blue for tools and ingredients; black for instructions), the organization by menus, the exotic-sounding nature of some of the offerings (gratin dauphinois, anyone?) and Shoyer’s dedication of the book:

“For all the kosher baker fans who asked me to write a cookbook of savory recipes. But, as my friend Suzin Glickman believes, you should still eat dessert first.”

Shoyer, of course, is famous for her baking. Bestselling The New Passover Menu joins her dessert bestsellers The Kosher Baker: Over 160 Dairy-Free Recipes from Traditional to Trendy and The Holiday Kosher Baker. She is a contributing editor to several kosher websites and cookbooks, as well as magazines, and is also a consultant for kosher bakeries and companies. She is no stranger to the Jewish Independent, as an internet search will show, and so it was with excitement that we received her latest cookbook.

In the press material accompanying The New Passover Menu, Shoyer says, “These recipes have been inside my head for years. As a book of 65 recipes, it offers not every possible Passover recipe but rather the best possible versions of food and desserts adapted for the Passover holiday.”

It lays out full menus for the two seders, as well as a Shabbat and Yom Tov menu, and menus for the holiday week, including lunch suggestions. There are several breakfast options and, of course, a lengthy list of dessert choices.

There is a chart of Passover cooking and baking substitutes, and a brief discussion of the holiday and its preparations (removing chametz and kashering the kitchen). Shoyer shares some memories of her seders past, and this leads into a description of the Passover table, the seder plate and its symbolic items, matza, salt water and wine.

Each recipe includes the preparation time, cook time, what items can be prepared in advance (and how long in advance) and all the equipment that will be needed. A brief paragraph accompanies each recipe, either a personal story about it or advice on cooking with some of its ingredients.

It was hard to narrow the selection of which recipes I would try. Since one of my taste testers is vegetarian, I shied away from such tempting creations as Seared Tuna with Olives and Capers with Kale Caesar Salad, and Moroccan Spiced Short Ribs. I opted instead for one main dish – eggplant parmesan – and something unique (and easy to make and transport) that I could bring to my host’s seder – banana charoset.

The New Passover Menu emboldened me in a couple of ways. First, I felt confident to adapt right from the beginning. So, for example, while Shoyer did not call for the eggplant slices to be sprinkled with salt and let sit for awhile to reduce their potential bitterness and bring some of their moisture to the surface (which I dabbed away with paper towel), I did it just in case. The recipe lists tomato sauce but, not wanting to buy or make any – as so many bought brands contain a lot of sodium and to make my own sauce would have been one more thing to do – I used a can of crushed tomatoes and added garlic powder, oregano and pepper to it, ingredients already included in the recipe. Finally, Shoyer offers a frying and a baking method for the eggplant slices, and I picked a middle version: I coated the slices as if for frying but then baked them, drizzling a little olive oil over them once they were laid out in the pan.

As for the banana charoset, I kept to the recipe for the most part, only adding more wine than recommended to brighten it up. I think the banana I selected for the mixture was on the too-ripe side. One thing to note with the charoset is that it tasted even better the next day, so I’d make it in advance if possible. The bold part of this recipe is that I pretty much insisted on bringing it to a seder once I’d tasted it.

The following recipes are reprinted from the cookbook, so the “I” and “my” from here on refers to Shoyer. Enjoy!

EGGPLANT PARMESAN

Serves: 12–15. Prep time: 10 minutes. Cook time: 20 minutes to fry eggplant; 35-40 minutes to bake. Advance prep: may be assembled one day in advance, fully baked three days in advance, or frozen; thaw completely before reheating. Equipment: cutting board, knives, measuring cups and spoons, two shallow bowls, large frying pan, nine-by-13-inch baking pan, silicone spatula.

Eggplant parmesan is one of my favorite Italian dishes. It is best made by my brother Adam Marcus, who has paid his rent for occasionally living with us by lovingly making his master version of this dish with a homemade sauce. Although I try to avoid frying foods (except for doughnuts and chicken once a year), I find that eggplant parmesan tastes better made with breaded and fried eggplant slices. If desired, you can grill the slices in the oven until fork-tender and then layer and bake as described below. If you go the healthier route, sprinkle the oven-roasted slices with some garlic powder, salt and black pepper. Depending on the size of the eggplants, you will end up with two or three layers in the pan.

1/3-1/2 cup oil for frying
3 large eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups Passover breadcrumbs or matza meal
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1 1/2 tsp dried oregano
salt and black pepper
2 medium eggplants, not peeled, sliced into 3/4-inch-thick rounds
1 1/2–2 cups tomato sauce
2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, or more as needed
1/3 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Place a large frying pan on the stovetop and add 1/3 cup oil. Pour the beaten eggs into a shallow bowl. In another bowl, stir together the breadcrumbs, garlic powder and oregano and season with salt and pepper to taste. Heat the oil over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, fry the eggplant slices in batches, browning both sides, until fork-tender, about 10 minutes per batch. Transfer to a plate covered with paper towels. Add more oil to the pan between batches if the pan gets dry.

Using a silicone spatula, spread about 3/4 cup of the tomato sauce in the bottom of a nine-by-13-inch baking pan. Place one layer of eggplant slices on top. Sprinkle with one cup of the shredded cheese. Cover with a second layer of eggplant. Pour another 3/4 cup sauce on top and use the spatula to spread the sauce on top of the eggplant pieces. Sprinkle with one cup of the shredded cheese. If you have more eggplant slices, place them on top, then add some tomato sauce and more shredded cheese. Sprinkle the parmesan all over the top.

Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the eggplant layers are heated through and the cheese is melted. If you assembled the dish in advance and stored it in the fridge but did not bake it, bake for an extra 20 minutes.

BANANA CHAROSET

Makes three cups (serves 25 for seder). Prep time: 10 minutes. Advance prep: may be made three days in advance. Equipment: cutting board, knives, measuring cups and spoons, food processor, box grater, silicone spatula, small serving bowl.

Charoset is the element on the seder plate that represents the mortar used by the Israelite slaves to build bricks. Growing up, I had seders almost exclusively at my parents’ house or a handful of other relatives’ homes, and everyone made the same charoset: walnuts, apples and sweet wine all smooshed together. It was only when I began hosting my own seders that I discovered a wide variety of charoset recipes from every corner of the world where Jews have ever resided. This recipe comes from my friend Melissa Arking, who is a fabulous cook. I added chopped walnuts at the end for some texture.

You can buy nuts already ground, with the skin or without. I have a coffee grinder dedicated to grinding nuts. You can also use a food processor, as long as it can reduce the nuts to a fine grind, almost like a powder, when you need almond flour for baking. If you grind nuts for too long, you will end up with nut butter.

3 large ripe bananas
2 cups ground walnuts
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tbsp sweet kosher wine
2 apples, shredded on the large holes of a box grater
1 cup walnut halves, chopped into 1/3-inch pieces

In the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade [a hand blender also works], place the bananas, ground walnuts, sugar, cinnamon and wine. Process until the mixture comes together. Transfer to a small bowl, add the apples and chopped walnuts, and stir to combine.

Charoset’s many variations

Ashkenazi-style charoset: apples, walnuts, cinnamon and red wine. (photo by Yoninah via commons.wikimedia.org)

What Passover seder symbol is common to all communities but is not mentioned in the biblical passage that enjoins us to eat the paschal offering, matza and bitter herbs? Charoset.

Charoset is loosely defined as a paste of fruit, spices and wine, symbolic of the mortar used by the Hebrews when they were slaves in Egypt.

The word is of unknown origin but may be from the word heres, meaning clay, because of its color. The custom of eating charoset is thought to have come from the time of the Babylonians, who dipped food in relishes or sauces to add flavor.

Some years ago, I surprised all my seder guests by serving both the traditional Ashkenazi version and a Sephardi version of charoset, which everyone loved and wanted in future years.

The New York Times Passover Cookbook, edited by Linda Amster, says that the Iraqi version of charoset is one of the oldest and most time-consuming recipes, dating back to the Babylonian exile of 579 BCE. Made into a jam from dates, grapes, pomegranate and honey, it was a sweetener in the ancient world and is still used by Iraqi, Burmese, Syrian and Indian Jews.

The Talmud says charoset must be sharp in taste and similar to clay in substance and color. Differing geographies is one of the reasons there are differing charoset recipes.

Ashkenazim tend to use apples, chopped almonds, cinnamon, red wine and perhaps even matza meal; sometimes walnuts or other nuts are used. Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews tend to use fruits that grew in Eretz Israel in biblical times, such as grapes, figs, dates, almonds and pomegranates. Israelis often turn charoset into a dessert by adding bananas, dates, orange juice and/or sugar.

Abraham Chill, author of The Minhagim (The Customs), writes that each ingredient symbolizes something different from the Egypt experience. The mixture as a whole stands for the mortar used by the Jews in making bricks, and the cinnamon resembles the color of the bricks they made. Wine represents the blood of the Jewish infants thrown into the Nile. Almonds are used because the Hebrew word for almond, shaked, is also a word that means to accelerate, as G-d accelerated the end of slavery. Apples are used because it was said that Jewish women during that time gave birth to their babies under apple trees in order to avoid detection by the Egyptians.

In her book The Jewish Holiday Kitchen, Joan Nathan states that charoset is “one of the most popular and discussed ritual foods served at the seder.” She says the fruits and nuts refer to verses in the Song of Songs, which mention an apple tree and the garden of nuts; the red wine recalls the Red Sea.

Because the maror or bitter herb is so strong, some say that the real purpose of charoset is to allay the bitterness. As part of the seder, the charoset and maror are placed between matzot to make a sandwich, which is said to have been invented by the first century CE Rabbi Hillel, hence, its name, the “Hillel sandwich.”

There are as many variations on the ingredients of charoset as there are Jewish communities.

Jews from the island of Rhodes use dates, walnuts, ginger and sweet wine. Jews of Salonika, Greece, add raisins. Other Greek Jews use walnuts, almonds, pine nuts, raisins, cinnamon, cloves and red wine and spread it thickly on matza. Turkish Jews include orange.

A Moroccan friend told me she used some of the seven species from the Bible in her charoset: dates, almonds, nuts, pomegranate seeds, figs, wine and cinnamon. Jewish Daily Forward Food Maven columnist Matthew Goodman once wrote in the Forward that Moroccan Jews sometimes make charoset paste and roll it into balls. He says this is a legacy from Jews of medieval Spain, who made the balls of apples, dried fruit, almonds, cooked chestnuts, sugar and cinnamon (but no wine) and then drizzled the balls with white vinegar before serving.

Jews of Venice use chestnut paste, dates, figs, poppy seeds, walnuts, pine nuts, orange peel, dried apricots, raisins, brandy and honey, while Jews of Bukharia use nuts, almonds, dates, raisins, apples and wine. Egyptian charoset contains dates, nuts, banana, apples, wine, cinnamon and pomegranate seeds.

An Iraqi woman told me that instead of a paste type of charoset, they would buy a special date honey and sprinkle chopped nuts on top. Goodman, again in the Forward, explained that its foundation is a syrup, halek, made by boiling dates, straining the liquid and then reducing it over a low flame until thick. Halek is one of the earliest of all sweeteners and may be the source of the reference in “land flowing with milk and honey.” Chopped walnuts or almonds are then added to the syrup. Jews of Calcutta also follow this custom.

A Dutch woman told me that she makes a chunky mixture with more apples and only a few nuts, plus cinnamon, sugar, raisins and sweet wine. Jews from Surinam in Dutch Guiana use seven fruits and coconut.

Following the injunction to have a sharp taste, Persian Jews use dates, pistachios, almonds, raisins, apples, orange, bananas, pomegranate seeds, sweet wine, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, vinegar and black pepper. Likewise, Yemenite Jews use dates, raisins, almonds, nuts, figs, dates, sesame seeds, apples, pomegranate seeds, grape juice, ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, cloves and black pepper. Jews from Afghanistan pound charoset in a mortar with a pestle and use walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds, apples, sweet wine, pomegranate seeds, dates and black pepper.

One exception I have found to Ashkenazim following the strictly sweet version was a friend whose father’s family came from Galicia. He recalled that their charoset was made from apples, nuts, wine, cinnamon and horseradish.

Here are but a few recipes.

CLASSIC ASHKENAZI CHAROSET

6 chopped apples
1/3 cup chopped nuts
1/4 cup raisins
1 tsp cinnamon
2 tbsp sugar
1/4 cup red sweet wine

Combine apples, nuts and raisins. Add cinnamon, sugar and wine. Depending on your preference, this can also be made in a food processor.

DATE CHAROSET

1/2 cup seeded, finely chopped dates
1/2 apple, grated
1/2 cup chopped almonds
1/8 cup red wine
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp ginger

Combine dates and apple. Add nuts, wine, cinnamon and ginger.

SEPHARDI CHAROSET

1/2 cup chopped dates
1/2 cup chopped raisins
1 cup chopped walnuts
1/4 cup chopped almonds
1/4 cup red wine
2 tbsp lemon juice
1/8 tsp cinnamon

Combine dates and raisins. Add walnuts, almonds, wine, lemon juice and cinnamon. Form into balls.

SPICY CHAROSET

12 figs
1 1/2 cups pitted dates
2/3 cup raisins
2 seeded oranges
2/3 cup almonds
1/2 cup dry red wine
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp cinnamon

In a food processor, coarsely chop figs, dates, raisins, oranges and almonds. Try to keep the fruit chunky unless you prefer it pureéd. Pour into a bowl. Add wine, cayenne, cinnamon and blend.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, foreign correspondent, lecturer, food writer and book reviewer who lives in Jerusalem. She also does the restaurant features for janglo.net and leads weekly shuk walks in English in Jerusalem’s Jewish food market.

Chicken for Pesach midweek

A tagine is a North African, slow-cooked savory stew, named after the earthenware clay pot in which it is cooked. (photo by Iron Bishop via commons.wikimedia.org)

After the sedarim, by midweek, you may be looking for some creative ideas for Passover dinners. Here are three dishes I frequently serve.

A mina is a traditional Sephardi savory layered pie, which is a great way to use up leftover chicken. In Spain and Turkey, it is called mina; in Egypt, maiena or mayena; in Algeria, meguena; and, in Italy, scacchi. The pie is also popular among Jews from the island of Rhodes and Yugoslavia.

A tagine is a North African, slow-cooked savory stew, named after the earthenware clay cooking pot, whose base is flat and circular with low sides. The cover is cone or dome shaped, which traps the steam and returns the condensed liquid to the pot, thus requiring very little liquid when cooking. In a chicken tagine, vegetables or dried fruit, nuts and spices are added.

Finally, leek patties known as kyeftes de prasa in Ladino, kifte in Turkish, keftas or keftes in Greek, are popular among Mediterranean Jews for Passover. I like to add chicken to mine.

CHICKEN MINA
6-8 servings

2 cups cooked, shredded chicken
1/2 cup chopped scallions
1/2 cup chopped Italian parsley
1/4 cup chopped mint
1/4 cup chopped dill
5 eggs
6 matzot
chicken soup
olive oil
1/2 cup tomato sauce
1/4 tsp nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350˚F. Grease a rectangular or oval baking dish.
In a bowl, combine chicken, scallions, parsley, mint and dill. Add two eggs and blend.
In another bowl, combine three eggs, tomato sauce and nutmeg.
Place matzot in bottom of a deep dish. Pour enough chicken soup to soften, about three minutes.
Place two matzot in greased baking dish. Brush with olive oil. Spread half the chicken filling on top. Add two more matzot, brush with oil and spread rest of chicken filling on top. Top with remaining two matzot.
Pour tomato sauce on top. Bake for 45 minutes. Cut into squares to serve.

CHICKEN TAGINE
8 servings

1 cup matza meal
8 pieces of chicken
4 cups chopped onions
2 cups chicken soup
1 1/2 – 3 cups prunes, apricots or other dried fruit
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ginger
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tsp lemon peel
1 cup slivered almonds
oil

Place matza meal in a shallow dish. Dip chicken pieces in the meal.
Heat oil in a soup pot. Add chicken and brown. Add onions, chicken soup and dried fruit and simmer until chicken is cooked.
Add cinnamon, ginger, lemon juice, lemon peel, and almonds. Simmer another 20 minutes.

CHICKEN-LEEK PATTIES
6-8 servings

3 leeks
1 cup chopped onions
2 cups chopped cooked chicken
2 eggs
1 cup mashed potatoes
1/2 cup matza meal, plus extra
salt and pepper to taste
1 beaten egg
oil

Place cut-up leeks and onions in a saucepan with water, bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer 30 minutes.
Drain and chop. Add chicken, eggs, 1/2 cup matza meal, mashed potato, salt and pepper and blend.
Place egg in one shallow bowl and additional matza meal in the second bowl. Take chicken mixture and make into patties. Dip into beaten egg then in matza meal for coating.
Refrigerate for awhile at this point if serving later. Before serving, heat oil in a frying pan and fry until patties are brown on both sides. Drain on paper towels.

Add culinary flair to Pesach

Grilled salad with chicken is one of the many tempting dishes in A Taste of Passover.

Every now and then, there’s a new recipe book that blows you away with innovative, easy-to-make dishes combined with tantalizing photographs that render you hungry within a couple minutes of flipping through the glossy pages. A Taste of Pesach (ArtScroll, 2014), a project of Yeshiva Me’on Hatorah (in Roosevelt, N.J.), is one such book. It promises to reinvent your Passover menu and inspire you with creative culinary twists and turns during this hungry time of year.

Many schools and communities have tried the same technique of compiling a recipe book and selling it as a fundraiser, and that’s how this one had its genesis seven years ago. But while most of those fundraiser books have a short lifespan before they’re recycled or mislaid, A Taste of Pesach is unlikely to follow the same trajectory. For one, it’s a gorgeous book you can’t wait to page through and one you’d be proud to hand over as a gift to a newlywed child or close friend. For another, it’s chock full of irresistible culinary eye candy, with recipes that are for the most part easy, calling on ingredients that are readily available. Look through the book and you find yourself murmuring, “Hmm…. I can do this.”

The mothers who volunteered the 150-plus recipes for A Taste of Pesach are a diverse group but they all want the same things at the end of the day, write the editors in the book’s introduction. “Food that will get rave reviews, user-friendly, visually attractive recipes with accurate cooking times and yields and recipes that have broad appeal and that work. We’re just like you,” they write.

Most of the recipes don’t require a huge spirit of adventure in the kitchen, but rather call for a minor stretch in their use of different ingredients than you might typically incorporate. The sweet potato crisps salad, for example, is a lettuce-based green salad to which strips of fried sweet potato are added as a garnish just prior to serving. The image of this dish is so tempting, it makes you want to reach in and steal a piece of crisp off the topping. This is true for the majority of the recipes, each one prefaced with a photograph and categorized by chapter into appies, soups, salads, fish, poultry, meat, sides, dessert, cake and cookies, and gebrokts. The recipes are accompanied by handy tips on how to make their preparation easier and faster, or how to plate it most attractively. There are traditional old favorites like gefilte fish, chremslach and kugels, and more modern twists or reinvented dishes like unstuffed cabbage, pastrami and spinach-stuffed chicken and cashew-butter muffins.

Extra eye candy is offered in the chapter headers, which display images of seder plates reflecting different times, styles and tastes. Passover is not a time of year that usually excites Jewish taste buds, but A Taste of Pesach promises to add flair, creativity and innovation to your table – without stretching your culinary skills to their limits.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond, B.C. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net. This article originally appeared in Canadian Jewish News.

A friend on our long journey

The close relationship humans share with yeast is truly ancient, and predates humanity itself. (photo by Lilly M via commons.wikimedia.org)

During the holiday of Passover, we are told not to eat leavened bread (chametz). The leavening of bread is caused by yeast, a single-celled fungus. The yeast induce a chemical reaction called fermentation, which converts water and sugar into alcohol and carbon dioxide. The bubbles of carbon dioxide gas produced during this reaction cause the bread to rise and become porous, ultimately resulting in delicious fluffy bread. The close relationship humans share with yeast is truly ancient, and predates humanity itself.

Since fungi lack mobility, it had often been assumed that they were more plant-like than animal-like. But genetic studies in the 1990s revealed that fungi are actually more closely related to animals than to plants. The common ancestor that animals and fungi share would have probably been single-celled, and resembled in many ways our friend the yeast. So we can consider them very distant cousins (not invited to the Passover seder).

Fruit are an important part of the diet of all apes, including humans and their ancestors. A ripe sweet juicy fruit is full of sugar and water, the key ingredients for fermentation. There are many different varieties of yeast that are found commonly all over the world, on the human body, in the soil, and often on the skin of fruits. Fermentation of ripe fruits due to the presence of such yeast is common in nature, and would have inevitably been eaten by the ancestors of humanity for millions of years. Primatologists have observed various species of monkeys getting drunk off such naturally fermented fruit. To explain this puzzling phenomenon, biologist Robert Dudley at University of California-Berkley formulated the “drunken monkey” hypothesis. Fruit evolved as a means for plants to use animals as a method of seed dispersal; however, if the fruit rots before it gets eaten, the seed doesn’t get dispersed. Alcohol is a volatile molecule, which means it floats around the air very easily. If a fruit begins to ferment, the alcohol molecules spread much further and faster than the smell of the fruit would on its own. Animals, such as monkeys and apes, can, therefore, smell from a greater distance that there is delicious fruit, helping them find and eat the fruits, and thus helping to disperse the seeds of the plant. It is an evolutionary relationship that benefits the plant, the yeast and the animal, a win-win-win scenario.

Moderate consumption of alcohol is in fact healthy and nutritional. Alcohol contains more calories than either carbohydrates (sugar) or proteins. Let us remember that calories were integral to survival before the obesity epidemic of the modern age. Alcohol can also protect against many diseases, especially cardiovascular diseases. Studies have even shown that people who consume alcohol in moderation live longer than those who don’t. Despite the many dangers associated with excessive alcohol consumption, the low doses normally consumed in nature ultimately may have provided a survival advantage to the ancestors of humanity.

The first civilizations arose in part due to intensive cereal agriculture. These cereals were used to make bread and beer. In Mesoamerica, they made a beer from corn, in China with rice and, in Mesopotamia and Egypt, they used barley and wheat to make beer and bread. These innovations that played an integral role in the building of civilization were thanks to yeast. The first writing system ever developed was Cuneiform, in Mesopotamia during the third millennium BCE. Among the first written records in history are references to the production, distribution and consumption of beer. Some scholars suspect that the Jews acquired this beer brewing knowledge during their exile in Babylon. The Hebrew word for drunk, shikur, is thought to be derived from the Babylonian word for beer, shikaru. However, if the story of Passover is to be believed, then perhaps the ancient Israelites brought the knowledge for beer making from Egypt.

Wine, an essential component of any decent Passover seder, also has an ancient history. The earliest evidence for intensive wine production can be found at the archeological site of Hajji Firuz Tepe in modern-day Iran, which has been dated to sometime around 5400 BCE. Genetic analysis corroborates that strains of wine yeast originated in Mesopotamia, but put the date back 10,000 years ago. Some archeologists have speculated that the strains of yeast used for making bread and beer originated from wine yeasts, however the evidence for this remains contentious. Wine and beer were both produced in Egypt, and were important culturally, religiously and medicinally, and Egyptians would bury jars of wine in the tombs of the pharaohs. Analysis of DNA found inside ancient Egyptian wine jars from the tomb of a pharaoh from 3000 BCE identified the same species of yeast used to make wine today: Saccharomyces cerevisiae.

If there were indeed Jewish slaves in Egypt, they would have eaten bread and drank beer and wine, leavened and fermented by the same fungus that we use to leaven bread and ferment wine today; a little old friend that has joined us on our long journey through the vast deserts of time. L’chayim.

Ben Leyland is an Israeli-Canadian writer, and resident of Vancouver.

We all were once strangers

A boat of new immigrants arrives in pre-state Israel on Oct. 2, 1947. (photo from the Palmach Archive via PikiWiki Israel)

The Passover seder begins by welcoming anyone who is hungry, an idea that comes straight from the Book of Exodus (23:9), which states, “You shall not oppress a stranger, since you yourselves know the feelings of a stranger, for you also were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Later in the Torah, Leviticus 19:33 says, “When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong.” Leviticus 19:34 repeats this refrain, “The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt; I am the Lord your God.”

Over the generations, the Jewish people have been “aliens” more than once. Well-known examples of Jews leaving their perceived homeland include the Jewish exile to Babylonia after the destruction for the first Temple, those who were fortunate enough to escape Nazi persecution for Israel or the United States, expelled Middle Eastern Jews who were moved to Israel after its founding, or residents of the former Soviet Union who left a life of religious oppression.

The immigrant experience is different for everyone, said Aaron Gershowitz, senior director for U.S. programs at the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS). He told this reporter that the challenges of an individual’s journey often depend on the environment they are leaving and the community to which they are relocating.

Take Inge “Irene” Brenner. She escaped from Nazi Germany on Dec. 28, 1938, for Havana, Cuba. From there, she traveled to the United States, arriving to join her husband in April 1939 at age 19. She immediately took up work at a small factory where she steamed hat plumes. Her employer provided her with the required documentation to book passage for her mother, father and sister to the United States. Due to a lack of funds, the family all lived together in a tiny apartment in New York.

“When I left Berlin, I was 19 and completely single-minded, [telling myself] ‘I must get out and save myself and my parents,’” Brenner said. “We just couldn’t have existed anymore. That is what happened to the rest of my family that didn’t get out – all of them were murdered in the gas chambers. There was nothing else I could do but make it. You just had to make it.”

Gershowitz said that “the economics of surviving” often mark the first several years (or longer) of the immigrant experience. It is only after that period that immigrants become more like others – more focused on family life, a career and a future for their children.

Over time, this was the case for Brenner. Once she and her husband could afford to leave the rest of the family and live on their own, they had two daughters who they raised to be American Jews, as opposed to Jewish Americans. Brenner said she wanted to leave her horrible past behind for a new life, which she feels she received “by the grace of God.”

“She was always proud to be Jewish, but it was always extremely hard for her to talk about how she got here,” said Benjamin Kopelman, Brenner’s grandson.

photo - Lev Golinkin — Lev Golinkin (photo by Diana P. Lang)

Lev Golinkin, author of a memoir on the immigrant experience titled A Backpack, a Bear and Eight Crates of Vodka, noted the irony that Soviet Jews came to the United States in search of religious freedom, yet many of them choose not to practise Jewish traditions, his family included.

“As soon as we could, we got away from the synagogue and Jewish organizations and melded into the secular American world,” he said.

Golinkin, who arrived in the United States from eastern Ukraine in 1989 at the age of 9, surmised that people turned away from religious observance because it was precisely the Jewish faith that made them targets for persecution in the former Soviet Union. Before escaping, Golinkin was being homeschooled because he had been regularly teased and beaten for his Judaism. Religion, therefore, was nothing to celebrate for him.

“I wanted nothing to do with that. I saw being a Jew as a stigma, a disability,” said Golinkin.

But as he grew up, Golinkin’s opinion changed.

“I think it is interesting that the Israelites stayed in the desert and didn’t start over until that generation had passed away. They needed a clean slate, they needed people whose memories are formed in the new land with the new traditions,” he said.