food – Page 2 – From Under the Fig Tree

Let all who are hungry, come and eat

joselitApril 13, 2014November 16, 2017Leave a comment

In Messages from My Father, Calvin Trillin’s celebrated account of growing up an American Jewish child in St. Joseph, Missouri, he wisely noted that upbringings have themes. Much the same can be said of the ways in which American Jews celebrate Passover. Every year, there seems to be a different theme, a different approach, to the age-old holiday.

Manischewitz American Matzos/frumsatire.net

A couple of seasons ago, American Jews were all agog about a spate of new hagadot and inundated the blogosphere with comments about their content, physical appearance and, most especially, their authoritativeness. Another year, they turned their collective attention to Passover’s digitization, venting away on whether the latest app might diminish or augment the meaningfulness of the holiday.

This year, American Jewry’s thematic embrace of Passover centers on food. Whether online or in print, stories about what to eat are all the rage, eclipsing virtually everything else. Recipes trump ritual.

Some of these stories have to do with the adaptation of traditional standbys like matzoh balls or gefilte fish. Others reflect the globalization of Jewish cuisine, calling on readers to expand their repertoire of holiday fare: Think Turkish, not Polish! Still other accounts, their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks (at least I hope that’s the case), encourage readers to fill their glasses in the course of the Seder with the likes of Red Nile, a fiery cocktail of potato vodka, tomato juice, Arak and horseradish.

This year’s gastronomic commotion was sparked, I suspect, by the decision of the Orthodox Union, one of the nation’s leading kashruth authorities, to certify quinoa as a Kosher-for-Pesach product. For years, rabbis were reluctant to do so, arguing that even though quinoa was an herb, not a grain, it looked like a grain -- and tasted like one, too – rendering it unfit for Passover consumption. But in 5774, after much study and contemplation, they reversed their position, prompting consumers to cheer “Hooray” at the prospect of banishing what an earlier generation of American Jews had once called “matzoh monotony.” Out with farfel and potatoes, in with quinoa!

A testament to its pliability, the food-centric perspective on Passover also makes sense when considered historically. American Jews have a long and distinguished tradition of culinary innovation. After all, they’re responsible for giving the world that singular invention: Chocolate-covered matzoh.

A sweet Pesach to one and all.

Calling all culture mavens

joselitNovember 12, 2013November 16, 2017Leave a comment

In the wake of the seemingly dire Pew Research Center study, the American Jewish establishment might be at a loss -- not for words, surely, but for ideas -- on how best to respond. Take heart. You needn’t go too far afield in search of reassurance and with it, heartening new forms of collective engagement. All you have to do is to visit Princeton next week, Columbia University in mid-January and the Skirball in Los Angeles a few months later. Pitch a tent in each one of these venues and you’ll encounter a dazzling round of Jewish cultural activities that is sure to lift your spirits.

Fiddler on the roof gives an impromptu concert in Adams Morgan, Washington, DC — Fiddler on the roof gives impromptu concert in Adams Morgan, Washington, D.C. Flickr/Adam Fagen

This coming Friday, Princeton -- yes, you’ve read that correctly -- will play host to a one day symposium, “Fiddler at 50,” that takes the measure of what Alisa Solomon, the author of the must-read, Wonder of Wonders: A Cultural History of Fiddler on the Roof, calls the most culturally insistent of theatrical productions. Drawing a mix of veteran theater-folk, including the redoubtable Sheldon Harnick, scholars like Solomon as well as the newest generation of Fiddler fans -- Princeton undergrads -- the event promises to enliven our understanding of one of American Jewry’s most enduring cultural milestones.

A few weeks later, Columbia will play host to a free, intensive and immersive one-week long workshop devoted to another one of American Jewry’s cultural touchstones: comics. The handiwork of Tent: Encounters with Jewish Culture, a recent initiative of the Yiddish Book Center, this confab offers a whirlwind of activities designed to send American Jewish twenty-somethings with a keen interest in comics into orbit -- and, when down on earth, in contact with one another.

Meanwhile, those who fancy themselves foodies, foodie-entrepreneurs or just good eaters should flock to Los Angeles in March for Tent: Food LA, yet another free, intensive and immersive one week-long workshop. This one brings together chefs, food writers and those with a hearty appetite for conversation and an abiding interest in Jewish cookery, then & now.

In each instance, as tradition crosses paths with modernity, the results are likely to be as inspiring -- and as surprising -- as fiddlers perched atop the roofs of Broadway.

Cherry on top

joselitNovember 9, 2013November 16, 2017Leave a comment

It’s been years since I last thought about, let alone tasted, a charlotte russe, an exuberent concoction of sponge cake and whipped cream with a ruby cherry perched happily on top. A passing reference in the New York Times the other day brought the treat back into my sights.

As messy to eat as it was high in calories, a charlotte russe was housed in a paper container with a moveable lid at the bottom. It required a fair amount of coordination, perhaps even a keen sense of engineering, to be fully savored. While making your way downward, through the swirls of whipped cream, you’d also push the lid upwards, freeing the sponge cake in the process. Dessert in motion: what fun!

The only time I ever ate a charlotte russe was when my siblings and I visited my grandparents in their Brooklyn apartment on Sunday afternoons. At some point in the proceedings, probably when we became a little too rambunctious, we would be taken to the bakery around the corner and treated to a charlotte russe, whose consumption kept us temporarily busy and blessedly quiet.

A good eater, I loved polishing off an entire charlotte russe all by myself. I loved the pastry’s name even more. I knew enough to know that ‘charlotte russe’ was not an English phrase, but not enough to know whether it was Yiddish or French. No matter. Its foreign-ness beguiled me, hinting at the prospect of a big, big world outside the twin poles of my grandparents’ home and my own.

I’ve now come to understand that by the time I was enthusiastically gobbling down my charlotte russe, the treat was on its last legs, an “endangered series,” a victim of both high labor costs and a changing palate. I’ve also come to understand that it probably wasn’t much good, either.

All the same, I treasure those Sundays with a charlotte russe in hand and a smudge of whipped cream on my nose. An artful fusion of duty and pleasure, of memory and possibility, what better treat could there be?!

Ice capades

joselitOctober 6, 2013November 16, 2017Leave a comment

I returned home this weekend from an intellectually stimulating visit to Vanderbilt University only to learn that my cherished refrigerator, once the very last word in technological sophistication, was on its last legs, its gentle and familiar purr now scratchy and uneven. Its imminent demise threw me for a loop.

Albert Dorne 1948 illustration — 1948 ad. Flickr/pds209

What unsettled me wasn’t the prospect of having to throw out scads of food, now gone bad. After all, I was never one of those efficient balebustas who cooked soups and stews and compotes in advance and then froze them. In fact, a long running joke in the family was the disconnect between the ample size of the refrigerator and the slim pickings that typically resided inside.

In our house, the refrigerator functioned more like a billboard than a cooling system, its exterior pockmarked with tickets for and announcements of various cultural events. The disparity between the manifest and latent functions of our refrigerator even prompted a wonderful bon mot from my father who, observing the many pieces of paper which had taken root on the outside of our refrigerator, remarked that we clearly needed a bigger one.

Throwing me into a tizzy was the prospect of having to purchase a new appliance. In the many years since the last (and only) time I had had a conversation about what kind of refrigerator to call my own, the universe of options expanded exponentially. You now need a scorecard to sort out the range of possibilities, which include refrigerators with French doors and refrigerators with side-by-side doors; refrigerators that dispense ice and even refrigerators that keep Shabbat. When programmed in “Sabbath mode,” the doors of this uniquely sensitive appliance can be opened "without concern of directly turning on or off any lights, digital readouts, solenoids, fans, valves, compressors, icons, tones or alarms."

Daunted and nearly defeated, I’m put in mind of the difficulties early generations of consumers no doubt faced when it came to purchasing an icebox or their very first Frigidaire. In a strange concatenation of events, one that blurs the line between the professional and the private, I was just about to begin work on a guest lecture about the immigrant kitchen and the many challenges -- both technological and cultural -- its inhabitants faced, when my longstanding and faithful refrigerator gave up the ghost.

The lecture, I’m afraid, will have to keep. A trip to P.C. Richards awaits.

Season’s greetings

joselitSeptember 2, 2013November 16, 2017Leave a comment

The Jewish New Year is right around the corner, but with the advent of a new semester and its attendant responsibilities, I haven’t been able to give the holiday the attention it deserves, especially when it comes to figuring out what I’m going to serve, to whom, and when.

Rosh Hashanah greeting card. Flickr/Max Bacou

Little wonder, then, that I can’t help giving more than a passing glance at the list of foodstuffs ready for purchase and a quick turn in the microwave which Zabar’s, that fabled Manhattan food emporium, has made available for “Rosh Hashanah/Yom Kippur 2013.”

In addition to dutifully notifying would-be consumers when these two Jewish holidays take place, a function once filled by the local kosher butcher who distributed a Jewish calendar along with the brisket to his customers, Zabar’s offers a wide range of provisions. They run the gamut from “Great Beginnings” to “Main Courses,” and from “Veggies and Sides” to an “Apples & Honey Gift Crate.” There’s the requisite chopped liver, of course, as well as two kinds of gefilte fish. Stuffed cabbage, brisket, and a roast turkey round out the main bill of fare; the latter is even accompanied by a gentle, grandmotherly warning: “Do not overheat.”

Vegetables are also widely available but, with the exception of mashed potatoes and that old, Frenchified standby, string beans almondine, they strike a decidedly contemporary note: Asparagus with sun dried tomatoes, anyone? Braised brussel sprouts?!

So far, so good, especially if you eat your vegetables. But then, throwing caution to the wind -- or something -- the Zabar’s Holiday Dinner Menu ups the ante, leaving no Jewish culinary cliché unturned. It encompasses virtually every item that ever graced the family table of yesteryear: bagels, cream cheese, blintzes, smoked salmon, whitefish, belly lox, and chopped herring salad. All this and brisket, too? On the same table?

It took me a moment or two to adjust my sights, much less my stomach, before it occurred to me that the smoked fish and dairy delights were intended for the Yom Kippur break fast, and not for Rosh Hashanah. Even so, their collective appearance under the rubric of a Jewish holiday dinner strikes me as a bit odd, even misplaced.

It isn’t just that the Zabar’s list of Jewish gastronomic favorites dissolves the traditional boundaries between milk and meat products. Huddling together on a menu designed for Rosh Hashanah and (post)Yom Kippur, they also seem, well, unmoored from their traditional context. Once a regular feature of the American Jewish diet, these items are meant these days to be consumed only now and then. Eating Jewish food has become an occasion rather than the staff of life.

America eats

joselitJuly 14, 2013November 16, 2017Leave a comment

Several lifetimes ago, in the late 1930s, the Federal Writers’ Project commissioned hundreds of unemployed and presumably hungry writers across the country to chronicle what their neighbors put on their table, hoping to compile a book called America Eats. World War II, however, intervened and nothing came of its efforts except heaps of notes which, for years, lay untouched and fallow in the archives of the Library of Congress.

Wrapping the beef in cheesecloth, Los Angeles Sheriff's barbecue. One of many photos from the WPA's America Eats project (1930-1941)/Library of Congress

Recently, though, thanks to the efforts of Mark Kurlansky, we’ve had the opportunity to make up for lost time. In The Food of a Younger Land, he published a selection of reports, observations and even the occasional poem from this treasure trove of material. Kurlansky’s book makes for good reading, even if our taste runs to a more sophisticated bill of fare than that detailed within its pages.

Eating their way through picnics, fish fries and church suppers, the writers not only filled their stomachs, they also seemed to have had a good time. “Nostalgia flowed copiously through these reports and the happy talk rarely let up. Every fish fry and Masonic lodge supper glowed with love and good cheer,” observed Laura Shapiro, as she took the measure of this early foray into American food writing.

Having had the pleasure of working with some of this material at the New York City Municipal Archives where, many cartons later, it bore the title,“Feeding the City,” I know just what Shapiro means. There’s something free, unfettered and even innocent about the New York writers’ observations. One of their number, pitching an idea for a section on Jewish food, put it this way: “This chapter offers a chance to talk about food here with the same reverence, enthusiasm and gusto that a Jewish Escoffier, Savarin or George Rector might write about the sort of food about which Jewish people are most fond. It isn’t all garlic!”

I dwell on the history of “America Eats” because I think we’re long overdue for a contemporary version, one that would pay heed to the profound culinary changes that have occurred in the United States since the 1940s. Food manufacturers, as the New York Times observed recently on the first page of its business section, now make a point of catering to the varied palates of a steadily increasing ethnic market. At the same time, a substantial number of ethnic products, from dulce de leche to lemon grass, have gone ‘mainstream,’ much like the bagel and dim sum of a previous immigrant generation.

America eats differently these days. I hope there’s a 21st century Escoffier, Savarin or Rector taking note.