The Ecumenical Pleasures of Jewish Cookery

Thanks to such raconteurs as Buddy Hackett and Myron Cohen, many trusting souls have been led to believe that Jewish cooking is the shortest distance between matzoh balls (leaden) and heartburn (chronic). This may be a boon to the stand-up comic's repertoire, but it hardly does justice to a cuisine as tempting as any in the world--one with culinary delights as diverse as that first bite of cold gefüllte fish, with its sharp deep-red horseradish, or hot stuffed-to-bursting cabbage simmered in a sauce of honey and lemon juice.

From the outset, the odds would seem to have been stacked against Jewish cooking. First of all, the kosher kitchen abides by its own self-imposed restrictions against shellfish, pork, the hind-quarter of any meat carcass, and against the use of cream, butter or other dairy food with meat or fowl. And, until recent years, Jewish cuisine lacked a native land. Despite these handicaps, however, Jewish cooks developed one of the major cuisines of the world. As proof of this, one need only cite those Jewish dishes that lend themselves so well to partying everywhere. [For another type of Jewish dish, sample our photo essay on Lainie Kazan, elsewhere in this issue.] Among many shining examples are latkes, or pancakes, made with matzoh meal, a stand-in for flour during the Passover holiday. The feathery-light, egg-rich latkes, when correctly made, can only be described by the Jewish phrase tam gan Eden, or taste of paradise. There are other latkes, such as potato pancakes, which might seem just as much German as Jewish except that the Jews, concentrating on potato pancakesmanship for centuries, adopted latkes for the Hanukkah festival or midwinter feast of (continued on page 192)Jewish Cookery(continued from page 107) lights. As party fare, they became rich but not greasy, a marvel of the frying pan, and were always devoured in astronomical quantities.

Even the Jewish Sabbath, which in orthodox circles allows no cooking whatever from Friday sundown to Saturday sundown, made a culinary feat out of necessity. It was the beef-and-bean casserole called cholent, one of the most sumptuous buffet dishes in any culinary repertoire. It was assembled on Friday morning, taken before sundown to the baker's brick oven, where the fires were banked, the oven sealed with lime and the dish cooked by the slow residual heat all night long. It resembles the French cassoulet more closely than it does our New England baked beans, except that there are more versions of cholent than there are individual beans in the big pot itself. The very word has led rival etymologists to claim one language or the other for this magnificent dish of the wandering Jewish kitchen. In Italy, they say the word comes from the Italian caldo, meaning hot, while Frenchmen argue that the Old French word for hot was chauld; those with a German background argue that it's derived from Schule Ende, or end of the synagogue services on Saturday, when the dish was enjoyed. Since not only cooking but even carrying an object on the streets during Sabbath was prohibited, orthodox Jews devised a delightful tongue-in-cheek stratagem for villagers returning the cholent from the bakery to the dinner table. A wire would be strung around the entire village, thus making it, in ritualistic terms, one large household, rather than a village. If, heaven forbid, the wire was broken, the Jews lost no time in organizing themselves into teams that passed the cholent, fire-bucket style, from one hand to the next, until each hot dish reached its proper destination. Inventiveness has always been one of the principal ingredients in cholent. Nowadays, it's cooked in a very slow oven for about six hours. It may be prepared during a lazy long evening and eaten the next day; it's also a wonderful dish for celebrating a political victory or consoling the losers, for entertaining post-game football fans or for an après-theater buffet on a wintry night.

Jewish delicatessen--specifically, Jewish delicatessen in the U.S.--is, in one glorious package, meat for the hungry, salt of the earth and fat of the land. Even the most demanding gastronome would concede that American kosher prime corned brisket of beef has no peer in any cuisine in the world, however haute--or low--it may be. In the same oligarchy are warm, thinly sliced pastrami and both corned and smoked beef tongue. Almost as important as the meat itself is the Jewish sour rye bread without which all forms of deli seem to shrivel and die. German and Danish pumpernickel are heavy and moist and don't vary much from one baker to another, but Jewish sour rye bread c be checkered in quality, and it pays to find a dependable source. At its best, it's a light loaf, large for its weight, with a fine grain but not cakelike. The crust must be deeply browned but not so thick or tough that it resists a sharp knife. At extemporaneous deli parties, the usual available offerings of kosher dill pickles, sweet red peppers in vinegar and pickled green tomatoes provide ample garnishes. But for a planned corned-beef convocation, the kraut and pepper relishes below, requiring a modicum of cooking, will beautifully enhance any Lazy Susan.

And then there's the Jewish brunch. As in hosting a deli party, success is more a matter of shopping well than of cooking. Its shining star is the Israeli breakfast. Travelers to Israel who expect to find a nation built on bagels and lox are in for a shock. The Israeli breakfast seems to have originated in the kibbutzim, where early-rising field workers, after several hours' toil, were in no mood for a dainty croissant and cafè au lait. The sabra morning meal is a sumptuous spread of luscious native fruits, including the sweetest melon in the world, a wealth of hard, semi-hard and soft cheeses, smoked, salted and pickled fish, olives, tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, sour cream and yoghurt--all of which, to one's surprise, are merely an introduction to omelets or scrambled eggs, toast, hard and soft rolls, honey, jam and coffee. The only matutinal feast that begins to rival it is the smorgasbord breakfast served in Scandinavia. Most of the good things can be bought in the shops where signs set forth the simple adjective Appetizing. Again, the level of quality varies considerably. Usually, the shops that feature superb smoked salmon and whitefish will offer other consistently excellent brunch foods. A connoisseur or mavin who's been through the mill learns only by comparative noshing. When you buy smoked sturgeon from several sources, you'll soon learn to detect the difference between a freshly smoked fish and one that has the faintly acrid, fishy taste of having languished in the refrigerator too long. When you buy black olives in oil, you'll recognize those that leave a mellow olive-oil aftertaste, with just enough bitterness to be satisfying.

Many of the Israeli foods, such as avocados, mangoes and dates, aren't a matter of nationalistic choice but simply the cultivated products of the good earth and the warm sun. But in Jerusalem, Middle Eastern dishes such as felafel are wolfed down by Jordanian and Jew, young and old, alike. These are the small balls of mashed chick-peas, spiked with hot pepper, which the natives pile into the flat Middle Eastern bread called pita, along with salads and peppery sauces. For the American cocktail hour, they're a piquant innovation when served as a hot hors d'oeuvre.

Leo Rosten, in The Joys of Yiddish, asks, "Who ever heard of a Jewish male cooking?" For once, the astute Mr. Rosten has missed the gravy boat. Perhaps the most illustrious man in the kitchen of all times was Solomon. During his three years of banishment, he went begging from one city to the next, atoning for his sins, until he finally came to the city of Ammon, where he took a job as a cook's apprentice in the royal household. So outstanding were his culinary talents that the king of Ammon soon made him head chef of the royal household. You know the rest of the story. The king's daughter fell in love with Solomon, undoubtedly due to his skill in the kitchen (what else?), and neither the king's arguments nor imposed exile in the desert could separate the couple. Herewith, worthy footnotes to Solomon's Song of Songs:

[recipe_title]Potato Cheese Latkes[/recipe_title]

(Serves six)

[recipe]3 cups (about 2 lbs.) potatoes[/recipe]

[recipe]1 medium-size onion, sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]3 egg yolks[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/2 teaspoons salt[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/8 teaspoon white pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons matzoh meal[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons flour[/recipe]

[recipe]4 ozs. gruyère cheese, shredded[/recipe]

[recipe]2 egg whites, beaten stiff[/recipe]

Salad oil

Peel potatoes, slice and put through meat grinder, together with onion, using fine blade. (Potatoes may be grated by hand or in a blender, but the texture of the potato pancakes in both cases tends to be extremely soft.) Measure ground potatoes, place in sieve or colander and let excess liquid flow off; do not squeeze them dry. Mix potatoes with egg yolks, salt, pepper, matzoh meal, flour and cheese. Fold egg whites into mixture. If batter seems too thin, a small amount of matzoh meal may be added. Pour 2 tablespoons oil into a large skillet over a moderate flame or into an electric skillet preheated at 370°. When oil is hot, drop batter by heaping tablespoons into fat and fry until medium brown on both sides. Serve with fresh applesauce.

[recipe_title]Matzoh-Meal Latkes[/recipe_title]

(Serves six)

[recipe]6 egg yolks, beaten[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon salt[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/2 cups cold water[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/3 cups matzoh meal[/recipe]

[recipe]6 egg whites[/recipe]

Salad oil

Mix egg yolks, salt, sugar, water and matzoh meal. Let stand 1/2 hour. Beat egg whites until stiff and fold into mixture. Fry as above, adding oil to pan when necessary.

Deli Parties

Allow at least 1/2 lb. sliced meat per person, 6 ozs. for trenchermen. Meat may include corned beef, pastrami, tongue, spiced beef and salami in any ratio the host desires. Meat traditionally is served with cold potato salad or hot baked beans, allowing a minimum of 1/2 cup per person. Sour rye bread should be thin and freshly sliced. Cold beer should flow abundantly. A compartmented relish or hors-d'oeuvre tray may include pickles or pickled products and mild mustard, as well as the relishes below, which may be served either warm or cold.

[recipe_title]Sauerkraut Relish[/recipe_title]

(Serves eight)

[recipe]1 lb. sauerkraut, drained[/recipe]

[recipe]2 teaspoons caraway seeds[/recipe]

[recipe]2 cups thinly sliced onions[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons salad oil[/recipe]

[recipe]4 teaspoons prepared mild mustard[/recipe]

[recipe]4 teaspoons sugar[/recipe]

Pound caraway seeds in mortar several minutes or until aroma is pronounced. Break sliced onions into strips and sautè in oil, stirring constantly, until onions are just limp, not brown. Add sauerkraut, mustard, caraway seeds and sugar, stirring well. Heat until warm.

[recipe_title]Pepper Relish[/recipe-title]

(Serves eight)

[recipe]2 cups sweet red peppers in vinegar, drained (reserving juice)[/recipe]

[recipe]1 large cucumber[/recipe]

[recipe]2 cups thinly sliced onions[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons salad oil[/recipe]

[recipe]4 teaspoons sugar[/recipe]

Cut peppers in half; remove stems and seeds and cut into thinnest possible slices. Peel cucumber; cut in half lengthwise and scrape out seeds, then cut into strips about the same size as the peppers. Break sliced onions into strips and sautè in oil, stirring constantly, until just limp, not brown. Add peppers, cucumber, sugar and 4 tablespoons pepper juice from the jar. Stir well; heat until warm.

[recipe_title]Blintzes[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

[recipe]1/2 cup clarified butter[/recipe]

[recipe]5 eggs[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/4 cups cold water[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup all-purpose flour[/recipe]

[recipe]12 ozs. farmer cheese[/recipe]

[recipe]6 ozs. whipped cream cheese[/recipe]

[recipe]6 tablespoons sour cream[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]2 teaspoons lemon juice[/recipe]

To clarify butter, melt it very slowly, remove foam from top and pour off butter, discarding solids in bottom of pan. Pour eggs, water, 1 teaspoon salt, 2 tablespoons sugar and flour into blender. Blend until smooth, then pour into bowl. Heat a heavy skillet, 7 inches across bottom, over a moderate flame. Brush skillet with butter. Pour just enough pancake batter (about 3 tablespoons) into skillet to coat bottom. Turn and tip skillet quickly, so that batter spreads evenly over bottom of pan. Sautè until pancake is light mottled brown on bottom; do not brown otherside. Continue in this manner, making pancakes until all the batter is used. Mix the two kinds of cheese, sour cream, 3 tablespoons sugar, lemon juice and 1/4 teaspoon salt until well blended. Place about 3 tablespoons filling on the browned side of each pancake. Roll up pancakes, tucking in ends, to make blintzes; chill them, covered with clear plastic wrap, in refrigerator until serving time. Sautè blintzes in clarified butter until medium brown on both sides. Use two skillets, if necessary. Serve with sour cream and a jam such as blueberry, wild strawberry or bar-le-duc. Cinnamon sugar, made by mixing 1/2 cup superfine sugar with 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon, may also be served.

[recipe_title]Stuffed Cabbage[/recipe_title]

(Serves four to six)

[recipe]12 large outside leaves of cabbage[/recipe]

[recipe]2 slices stale white bread[/recipe]

[recipe]1 lb. chopped beef[/recipe]

[recipe]1 egg, beaten[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup uncooked rice[/recipe]

[recipe]1 medium-size onion, minced very fine[/recipe]

[recipe]1 small piece celery, minced very line[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon very finely minced garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon ground cumin[/recipe]

[recipe]30-OZ. can tomatoes[/recipe]

[recipe]1 large onion, thinly sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]1 large carrot, thinly sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons honey[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup lemon juice[/recipe]

Bring a large pot of water to a rapid boil. Drop two or three leaves of cabbage at a time into the water; boil a few minutes or until they become pliable. Cut away thick sections of leaves, so that they may be rolled easily. Remove crust from bread; dip bread into cold water and squeeze gently to remove excess water. Preheat oven at 350°. In a mixing bowl, combine beef, egg, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper, bread, rice, minced onion, celery, garlic and cumin. Remove 1 large tomato from can, mince fine and add to meat. Mix thoroughly until ingredients are well blended. Divide meat mixture among cabbage leaves; roll up leaves, folding in ends. Place stuffed cabbage, seam side down, in a greased baking pan. Scatter sliced onion and carrot on top. Drain juice from tomatoes, mix with honey, sugar, lemon juice and 1/2 teaspoon salt and pour over stuffed cabbage. Chop tomatoes coarsely and add to pan. Cover pan with aluminum foil and bake 1-1/2 hours; remove foil and bake 1/2 hour longer.

[recipe_title]Felafel[/recipe_title]

(About four dozen hors d'oeuvres)

[recipe]1/2 lb. chick-peas[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, white pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]2 eggs, slightly beaten[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons melted shortening[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons bread crumbs[/recipe]

[recipe]1 small hot chili pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons lemon juice[/recipe]

[recipe]1 tablespoon sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]Salad oil[/recipe]

Soak chick-peas overnight in cold water. Drain, place in pan and cover with water. Add 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil; reduce flame and simmer 2 hours or until very tender. Add water when necessary, to keep chick-peas covered during cooking. Drain. Put through meat grinder, using fine blade. Add 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon white pepper or more to taste, eggs, melted shortening, bread crumbs, chili pepper (use less if desired), lemon juice and sugar. Mix thoroughly. Chill. Form into balls about 1/2 in. in diameter. Heat 1 in. oil in electric skillet preheated at 370° and fry felafel until brown. Sprinkle with salt; serve while hot. Felafel may also be formed into finger-shaped pieces about 1/2 in. thick and fried as above.

[recipe_title]Gefüllte Fish[/recipe_title]

(Serves six as main course or twelve as appetizers)

[recipe]1-3/4 to 2 lbs. whitefish[/recipe]

[recipe]3/4 lb. yellow pike[/recipe]

[recipe]2 slices stale white bread[/recipe]

[recipe]2 medium-size onions, sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]12 sprigs parsley[/recipe]

[recipe]24 peppercorns[/recipe]

[recipe]1 piece celery, sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]2 large carrots, peeled, cut into 1/2-in. diagonal slices[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon celery salt[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon white pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]2 teaspoons sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]2 teaspoons lemon juice[/recipe]

[recipe]2 eggs, slightly beaten[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup ice water[/recipe]

Have fish dealer clean and fillet the fish, removing head, backbone and skin, which should be saved. Examine whitefish carefully and remove any bones that remain. Remove crust from bread, dip into cold water and squeeze gently to remove excess water. Put fish head, skin and bones into a large Dutch oven or large saucepan fitted with lid. Add 1 onion, parsley, peppercorns, celery, carrots, 1/2 teaspoon salt and 3 cups water. Bring to a boil; reduce flame and simmer 20 minutes. Skim liquid. Put fish, bread and onion through meat grinder three times, using fine blade. Mix fish in an electric mixer with 1 teaspoon salt, celery salt, pepper, sugar and lemon juice. Slowly add eggs and ice water while mixing. Shape into flat or oblong cakes, each containing about 1/3 cup fish mixture. Keep hands wet or use a spatula dipped into cold water while shaping mixture. Place fish in Dutch oven containing fish stock. Cover and simmer over very low flame 1-1/2 hours. Remove fish to a large shallow casserole. Strain stock remaining in Dutch oven and pour over gefüllte fish. Place a slice of the cooked carrot on each piece. Chill well, keeping the casserole covered. Serve cold with prepared horseradish mixed with beets. The strained fish stock will usually jell overnight.

[recipe_title]Cholent[/recipe_title]

(Serves six to eight)

[recipe]3 lbs. lean first cut brisket of fresh beef[/recipe]

[recipe]1 lb. marrowfat beans[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons salad oil[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/2 cups finely minced onions[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup carrots, put through large holes of grater[/recipe]

[recipe]2 cups finely minced fresh tomatoes[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup finely minced green pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]1 tablespoon very finely minced garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]1-1/2 lbs. white potatoes[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup vinegar[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup brown sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper[/recipe]

Soak beans overnight in cold water. Drain and put half of them into a saucepan; cover with salted water and cook until tender--about 1-1/2 hours. Add more water to pan, if necessary, to keep beans covered during cooking. Mash the cooked beans, together with their liquid, in a blender. Preheat oven at 250°. Cut meat into pieces about 1 in. square and 1/2 in. thick. Sautè in oil in a large Dutch oven, stewpot or deep flameproof casserole until meat loses red color. Add onions, carrots, tomatoes, green pepper and garlic and sautè about 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Cut potatoes about the same size as the meat and add them, along with mashed beans, whole beans, vinegar, brown sugar, 1 tablespoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper, to pot. Add just enough water to barely cover ingredients. Stir well; bring to a boil; cover and bake in oven 5 to 6 hours. Do not stir while baking. Liquid in pot should barely simmer, not boil. Correct seasoning, if necessary, when cholent is removed from oven. Sweet potatoes may be used in place of white; 1 lb. dried apricots or prunes or a combination of the two may be added to the cholent if sweet potatoes are used. A single whole piece of brisket is sometimes used and sliced just before serving.

Any of the preceding recipes should firmly establish your reputation as Jewish cuisine mavin of the first order. So start with the cooking already.