Archive for February, 2011

ADVENTURES IN KOSHER FOOD & WINE

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I spent last Tuesday February 22 at the Fifth Annual Kosher Food & Wine Experience at the Chelsea Piers in Manhattan. I know, it’s a tough job, but someone has to do it. Press and trade were invited to arrive any time after 4:30 pm, while the general admission’s time was only after 6:30.
The setting on the Hudson River was enticing and, fortunately, only a short subway ride from my apartment. The Experience was sold out with more than 1,500 in attendance. I heard tickets were going on Ebay for $500 (more than 5 times the asking price). Thankfully, I went on a press pass. I’m certainly glad I went early for the press section, when there was room to roam and observe. Because when the general admission started it was like a combination of shul kiddush and roller derby (if that’s not redundant) with little opportunity to chat and study. Alas I chatted too much during the press time, when it was easier to stroll and sample. Next time, I’ll eat first and ask questions later.
All I all, the Food & Wine Experience aptly reflected the current state of kosher food – some excellent, a lot mediocre, and too much still downright inadequate.
There are, fortunately for serious oenophiles, a significant number or high-quality kosher wines. The wines offered at the Experience were overwhelming, in many ways. There were more than 300 wines poured from more than 30 labels and I only managed to sample a handful. They came from America, Israel, France, Italy, Chile, Argentina, and New Zealand. So I asked David Herzog, head of Royal Wine Co, for his suggestions. It’s always best to go to the horse’s mouth, so to speak. If there is a single individual to thank for the massive changes in kosher wine in America, it is David Herzog, who first envisioned importing premium kosher wines when all the experts insisted it an impossible dream. Among those new vintages that he recommended were Gamla Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve; Hagafen Oak Knoll Single Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon; Herzog Special Edition Chalk Hill Warnecke Vineyard 2008; and Barkan Unfiltered Cabernet Sauvignon. One of the newcomers to the US is Alexander, a winery located in Moshav Beit Yitzchak, northeast of Netanya, and overseen by Yoram Shalom, who calls upon his Tunisian root to produce eight varieties. Israel in particular can boast an incredible number of excellent wines from an array of wineries. I only wished I had more time to savor them and others. I hate to fight crowds and by the point of the evening that I was ready to indulge in wine, the tables were packed and unsuitable for exploration. To properly taste wine, I prefer the quieter wine tastings, like the ones I used to do for Food & Wine Magazine years ago, sitting around a table, sipping, spitting, and contemplating. As I said, tough job!
On the other hand, some of the wines were disappointing. One of the pourers insisted that an Italian Chianti was exceptional. I mentioned to him that I had never tasted a decent kosher Chianti. After trying this new one, I can still say that I have never tasted a decent kosher Chianti. I’m not sure why there are so many inferior Italian kosher wines, coming from a country that has been making dry kosher wines for two millennia. Still there are so many top-notch Cabernets, Shirazes, and even various inexpensive table wines now. No one can honestly say that kosher wine cannot compare to the non-kosher competition.
On the other hand, kosher dining still has a way to go. At the Experience, there were upscale fare and heimische items from about two dozen kosher restaurants and caterers in the NY metropolitan area. Some of it was up to par, but too much was inferior. Of course, the logistics were far from ideal, reheated over sternos, which certainly is not conducive to crispy fried goods. I think one of the major problems was blandness in too many dishes. Food should taste from more than salt and sugar. How can Indian and Tex-Mex fare lack spices and at least a kick of chilies? Where is the vinegar in the sushi rice? Why are so many baked goods dry and flavorless beyond sugar? To be sure, there was a delectable chocolate mousse. But then I find that dairy mutes the flavor of chocolate and a mousse made without whipped cream, although less fluffy, has a much more intense chocolate punch. But many of the other dessert items suffered from a lack of dairy (at this meat of event) or chefs who know how to render superior pareve items.
Nonetheless, I think back to the state of kosher food and wine during my days of editing Kosher Gourmet magazine, which went out in the Bush ‘non-recession’ of 1991. (Oy! Has it been 20 years?) Today, there is much more variety and, perhaps most important, more people interested in improving things. Now if only they wouldn’t burn the potato kugel.

EINKORN BREAD

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I’ve had a package of einkorn flour in my refrigerator for a month or so and on Friday finally got around to using it to make bread. I know that einkorn isn’t an everyday household item, at least not for the past 3,000 or so years. For our distant ancestors, even as late as biblical times, einkorn was a vital element of agriculture.
Einkorn means “one-seed”, as the spikelets of this wheat typically contain a single floret and produce one grain each. Einkorn (Triticum monococcum) is a simple diploid (14 chromosomes in two sets – modern wheat has 42 chromosomes) with small bearded ears, resembling 2-rowed barley. An einkorn stalk bears two to three spikelets, each usually producing a single grain. Besides a low yield, einkorn is ‘hulled’ wheat, meaning that the glumes tightly hold the grains in the spikelets, making threshing extremely difficult. After threshing, the grains must be roasted or pounded to loosen the husks, which not only requires much labor, but in the process breaks the grain, making it less suited for long term storage. In addition, einkorn spiklets ripen and fall from these wild plants at different times to better disperse the seeds, a type of wheat called ‘shattering.’ As a result, seeds break off from the plant before and during the harvest and are lost. This grass can still be found growing wild in many parts of the Fertile Crescent.
Following the Younger Dryas period and the cooling and drying of the Middle Eastern climate, einkorn was cultivated, the only diploid species to be so. The cultivation of grains originated along the Euphrates River in the late Neolithic period, as early humans ceased his nomadic ways to raise crops and ensure a steady supply of beer, marking the very inception of civilization. In that vein, all of the earliest records of writing have to do with grain transactions. Eventually, people discovered that they could thresh grain without roasting by beating the wheat with sticks (Judges 6:11), then by having oxen repeatedly trod over the stalks (Deuteronomy 25:4), all of these methods generally resulting in most of the grains being broken. Later, a threshing sledge (tribulum), a large board with spikes on the underside, was pulled over the stalks by oxen (Isaiah 41:15, Amos 1:3). Thus the discovery of numerous threshing floors and sledges, needed for processing hulled wheat, in archeological sites of that time.
The earliest evidence of humans using wild einkorn was at Pre Pottery Neolithic B remains at Tell Abu Hureyra (currently in northern Syria). Einkorn cultivation emerged in the Levant in the Neolithic period before spreading to Europe. (Einkorn bread was found in the stomach of the frozen mummy, Otzi the Iceman, dating back to 2,200 BCE and found frozen in ice in the Alps in 1991.) The earliest levels at digs in Jericho contain carbonized seeds of einkorn, emmer, and two-rowed barley, although archeologists have yet to pinpoint which was the first domesticated cereal. They could have been initially planted within decades of each other and perhaps by the same group of primordial farmers. Early on people began to select the seeds of primitive grains with the best qualities for propagating. The domesticated subspecies became non-shattering, requiring force to remove the spikelets, and produced slightly larger seeds than the wild forms, but remained hulled. As one of the seven founder crops, einkorn ranked nearly with barley and emmer in significance to many early farmers in the Middle East and especially Europe. It was, however, absent from Egypt. Einkorn was particularly prevalent in areas with poor soil and cooler climates, where other grains would not grow.
The advent of the iron plow in the Near East around 2500 BCE allowed for deeper plowing and a revolution in agriculture. A continuous surplus of the desirable wheat spurred international trade as well as invasions and the rise of great empires. Einkorn’s importance gradually waned during the Bronze Age, as emmer and durum wheat breads gained popularity. Still, it was occasionally grown by some farmers in Israel as late as the Talmudic period.
Einkorn kernels tend to be somewhat bitter and possess a smaller amount of gluten than bread wheat and emmer. (Some people who are intolerant of the hybridized gluten in bread wheat can deal with the simpler einkorn.) I obtained the einkorn flour from Elisheva Rogosa, an organic farmer and artisan baker (see fedcoseeds.com and growseed.org). Fortunately, the einkorn came in flour form, I could only imagine the difficulty in grinding it. Imagine the hours spent by women in the ancient world as they daily spent hours at the grindstone to obtain bread for their families. Still freshly-ground grains retain more nutrition and have a better flavor.
Einkorn flour is tan in color and produces a light brown loaf. I made the dough without any oil, eggs, or sweeteners (except a pinch of sugar to help the active dry yeast), in order to taste the pure essence of the grain and to witness its nature without interference. I did add a little salt, which serves as a flavor enhancer and helps to control the yeast.
The dough was very sticky, much more so than bread wheat and emmer. I relied on a bench knife (dough scraper) to help knead it. (Next time, I’ll use a food processor.) I opted to attempt a single loaf to compare the results to bread wheat (although next time, I want to try flatbreads to be more authentic, or maybe pitas or pancakes). Having much less gluten than modern bread flour, einkorn does not rise as high. The dough only rose about 30% (as opposed to double the size for bread wheat). It is certainly not light and mild like an egg challah. Yet it was lighter in texture than I imagined it and actually yielded respectable bread. Having read from other sources over the years how einkorn did not produce good bread, I was surprised at just how good it was. (Remember much of what we think about food is wrong.) The texture of my einkorn bread was somewhat dense and crumbly and a bit dry. (A little oil and perhaps some honey might help with that.) The flavor was somewhat nutty (the dough even smelled nutty) with a pronounced tanginess (although not unpleasant). On Sunday, I sliced the leftovers for a tuna sandwich, which may have been an historical first. The slices held together and the sour flavor of the bread held up well with the tuna.
I could see why emmer -– higher yielding, higher rising, and milder tasting than einkorn -– became the preferred wheat of the ancient Middle East. Still, I enjoyed the dietary variety that the einkorn contributed.

Einkorn Bread
(1 medium loaf about 24 ounces)
2 teaspoons active-dry yeast
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons warm water (105 to 115 degrees (40 to 46 C)
1 teaspoon honey or sugar
1 teaspoon salt
About 3 cups einkorn flour (12 ounces/340 grams)

1. To make the dough: Dissolve the yeast in ¼ cup water. Stir in 1 teaspoon honey and let stand until foamy, 5 to 10 minutes. Add the remaining water, salt, and 2 cups flour. Gradually add enough remaining flour until the mixture holds together.
2. On a lightly floured surface, knead the dough until smooth and elastic, 5 to 8 minutes. Place in a greased bowl and turn to coat. Cover loosely with plastic wrap or a towel and let rise until doubled in bulk, about 1½ hours.
3. Punch down the dough, knead briefly, divide in half, and form into a ball. Place, seam side down, on a parchment paper-lined or greased large baking sheet or in a greased 8-inch round baking pan. Cover loosely with plastic wrap or a damp cloth and let rise until nearly doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
4. Position a rack in the center of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees (175 C).
5. With a sharp knife, slit an X in the top. Bake until the bread is golden brown and hollow-sounding when tapped on the bottom, about 30 minutes. Let cool on a rack.

SPREADING THE WORD ON PEANUT BUTTER

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I recently received a couple of requests, both entailing peanut butter. One requested some snacks incorporating peanut butter and the other wanted suggestions for a substitute for margarine in a no-bake peanut butter bar.
Nut pastes from almonds, chestnuts, and hazelnuts have long been popular in Europe. Crude peanut pastes are known to have existed in Peru as early as 900 BCE, where they were sometimes mixed with another local flavor — chocolate. However, the development and popularization of ground peanut spread can be attributed to an unknown St. Louis doctor in 1890. In that fateful year, this farsighted physician launched the first commercial peanut butter, promoting it as a health food. However, peanut butter did not catch on immediately. The primitive manufacturing process made the cost prohibitively expensive for the general public, so peanut butter was found primarily in spas and certain medical facilities.
Dr. John Harvey Kellogg and his brother W.K. Kellogg of Battle Creek, Michigan with the doctor’s idea and submitted a patent in 1895 for `Process of Preparing Nut Meal’ explaining “a pasty adhesive substance that is for convenience of distinction termed ‘nut butter’… The moist and brown product is soft and pasty like butter and is used as a substitute for butter.” However, their version — too costly and not particularly tasty — never gained much following and the Kelloggs turned their attention to breakfast cereals.
The development of new machinery to produce peanut butter resulted in lower prices. Touted at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, peanut butter’s popularity began to spread throughout the country. Within a few years, dozens of commercially produced brands were available, the oldest existing company is Krema Products Company of Columbus, Ohio.
However, peanut butter manufacturers still faced one major problem: The oil separated from the solids and rose to the top. This problem was solved in 1923, with Jospeh L. Rosefield’s development of a process of incorporating hydrogenated peanut oil into the butter, preventing separation. Soon all major peanut butter manufacturers were using this process and peanut butter’s popularity soared. The first company to adopt Rosefield’s process was Swift & Company introducing its brand E.K. Pond, which was changed in 1928 to Peter Pan. In 1932 after a dispute with Swift, Rosefield began producing his own brand called Skippy. Two years later, Rosefield introduced the first chunky peanut butter. During World War II soldiers were introduced to peanut butter and with their return to civilian life, its popularity soared. It soon became a staple of the baby boom generation.
Although peanut butter comes in a variety of flavors and textures, most commercial brands are a blend of runner peanuts and Virginia peanuts. It takes about 548 peanuts to make a 12 ounces jar of peanut butter. The roasting process and additives are primarily responsible for differences in color and flavor. Peanut butter comes in three textures: smooth — containing no noticeable grainy particles, regular — containing tiny grains, and chunky — containing perceptible grains. Most commercial chunky peanut butters are made by adding chopped nuts to smooth peanut butter. Americans expressed in polls an overwhelming preference for the smooth type. I like the chunky.
Peanut butter has recently seen two disparate trends — health food and gourmet. Much of the peanut’s natural nutritional value is absent from commercially made products, which generally remove the germ that possesses much of the nut’s nutrition and add up to 10% oil and sweeteners. Several brands have appeared that include the germ and omit the additives, usually labeling themselves “old-fashioned.” Other newcomers to grocery shelves are gourmet, adding such flavors as fruit or chocolate.
In some recipes homemade peanut butter cannot be substituted for commercial brands. Commercial peanut butters contain hydrogenated oil, sugar, and salt that change its chemical composition. Therefore, liquids will thicken homemade peanut butter, while the commercial brands will thin out. There will also be a difference in sweetness.
Here are a few peanut butter treats, some ‘healthier’ than others, from my files:

Peanut Butter-Oatmeal Cake Bars
(About 3 dozen bars)
1 cup (240 ml/5 ounces/140 grams) all-purpose flour, measured by dip-and-sweep method
½ teaspoon (2.5 ml) baking soda
½ teaspoon (2.5) salt
½ cup (1 stick/4 ounces/115 grams) unsalted butter, margarine, shortening, or vegetable oil
1/3 cup (80 ml/3.1 ounces/90 grams) peanut butter
½ cup (120 ml/3.5 ounces/100 grams) granulated sugar
½ cup (120 ml/3.75 ounces/105 grams) brown sugar
1 large egg (3 tablespoons + ½ teaspoon/1.75 ounces/50 grams)
¼ cup (60 ml/2.125 ounces/60 grams) milk or soy milk
1 teaspoon (5 ml) vanilla extract
1 cup (240 ml/2.8 ounces/80 grams) quick-cooking rolled oats
ADDITIONS (optional): 1 cup (5 ounces/140 grams) raisins, 1 cup (5 ounces/140 grams) chopped pitted dates, 1 cup (4 ounces/115 grams) chopped dried apricots, 1 cup (6 ounces/170 grams) chocolate chips, 1 cup (4 ounces/115 grams) chopped walnuts or pecans, or 1 cup (5 ounces/140 grams) chopped almonds, hazelnuts, or macadamia nuts (optional)
Confectioners’ sugar or icing (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees (175 C). Grease and flour a 13- by 9-inch baking pan (for thick bars) or 15½- by 10½-inch jelly-roll pan (for thin bars).
2. Sift together flour, baking soda, and salt. Beat butter and peanut butter until smooth. Add sugar and beat until light and fluffy (about 2 minutes with a machine; 5 minutes by hand). Beat in egg and vanilla. Stir in flour mixture, then oats. Stir in desired additions.
3. Spread batter into prepared pan. Bake until edges are slightly browned and wooden tester inserted in center comes out clean (about 25 minutes for 13- by 9-inch pan; about 20 minutes for 15½- by 10½-inch pan). Cool, then cut into bars. If desired, sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days or in a freezer for at least 2 months.

Peanut Butter Brownies
(16 2-inch bars)
½ cup (1 stick/4 ounces/115 grams) unsalted butter or margarine, softened
2 cups (480 ml/15 ounces/420 grams) light brown sugar
1 cup (240 ml/9.25 ounces/265 grams) creamy peanut butter
2 teaspoons (10 ml) vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon (1.25 ml) salt
3 large eggs, slightly beaten
1¼ cups (300 ml/6.25 ounces/175 grams) all-purpose flour, measured by dip-and-sweep method
½ to 1 cup (3 to 6 ounces/85 to 170 grams) chocolate chips, raisins, or flaked coconut (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees (175 C). Line an 8-inch-square baking pan with aluminum foil and grease.
2. Beat butter or margarine until smooth (about 1 minute). Gradually add brown sugar and beat until light and fluffy (about 4 minutes). Blend in peanut butter, vanilla, and salt. Beat in eggs and flour. If desired, stir in chocolate chips or raisins.
3. Spread evenly into prepared pan. Bake until set and golden brown (about 30 minutes). Cool completely (at least 2 hours).
4. Using overlapping ends of foil, remove cake from pan, move to a flat surface, and cut into 2-inch squares.

Peanut Butter Cookie Bars
(About 24 bars)
1¼ cups (360 ml/6.25 ounces/175 grams) all-purpose flour, measured by dip-and-sweep method
1 teaspoon (5 ml) double-acting baking powder or ½ teaspoon (2.5 ml) baking soda
½ teaspoon (2.5) salt
¼ cup (½ stick/2 ounces/60 grams) shortening, unsalted butter, or margarine, softened
1/3 cup (80 ml/3.1 ounces/90 grams) peanut butter
¾ cup (180 ml/5.25 ounces/150 grams) granulated or brown sugar (or 6 tablespoons (90 ml) granulated and 6 tablespoons (90 ml) brown sugar)
1 large egg (3 tablespoons + ½ teaspoon/1.75 ounces/50 grams)
2 tablespoons (30 ml) milk or water
1 teaspoon (5 ml) vanilla extract
¾ to 1 cup (3 to 6 ounces/85 to 170 grams) chocolate chips, ½ to ¾ cup (2.5 to 3.5 ounces/140 grams) raisins, ½ to ¾ cup (2.5 to 3.5 ounces/140 grams) chopped dates, or ½ to ¾ cup (2 to 3 ounces/60 to 85 grams) chopped nuts (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees (175 C). Position rack in center of oven. Grease a 9-inch-square baking pan.
2. Sift together flour, baking powder or soda, and salt. Beat butter or margarine and peanut butter until smooth. Add sugar and beat until light and fluffy (about 2 minutes with a machine; 5 minutes by hand). Beat in egg. Add milk or water and vanilla. Stir in flour mixture. Stir in desired additions.
3. Press dough evenly over bottom of prepared pan. Bake until wooden tester inserted in center comes out clean (20 to 25 minutes). Cool completely. Cut into bars or squares. (Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days or in freezer for up to 3 months.)

No-Cook Chocolate-Peanut Butter Mashed Potato Fudge
(About 2¼ pounds/1 kg)
2/3 cup (160 ml) hot mashed potatoes
6 ounces (170 grams) semisweet chocolate, melted
1 cup (240 ml) peanut butter
1 teaspoon (5 ml) vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
3 cups (720 ml/12 ounces/340 grams) confectioners’ sugar
½ to ¾ cup (120 to 180 ml) chopped peanuts

1. Grease a 9-inch square baking pan. Combine the potatoes, chocolate, peanut butter, vanilla, and salt. Stir in the sugar. Add the peanuts.
2. Press into the prepared pan, cover, and chill until firm. Cut into pieces.

Peanut Butter Meltaways
(About 50)
½ cup (120 ml/1 stick/4 ounces/115 grams) unsalted butter or margarine
½ cup (120 ml) honey
3 cups (720 ml/12 ounces/350 grams) confectioners’ sugar
2 cups (480 ml) smooth peanut butter
1½ cups (360 ml/13 whole/6 ounces/170 grams) graham cracker crumbs
Top Layer:
¼ cup (60 ml/½ stick/2 ounces/60 grams) unsalted butter or margarine
12 ounces (340 grams) semisweet chocolate

1. Line a 13- by 9-inch pan with aluminum foil with foil extending over two sides of the pan. Lightly grease the bottom.
2. Bottom layer: In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt the butter and honey, stirring until smooth. Stir in the confectioners’ sugar, peanut butter, and graham cracker crumbs. Spread evenly into the prepared pan.
3. Top layer: In the top of a double boiler, melt the remaining ¼ cup (60 ml) butter and chocolate. Spread evenly over the peanut butter layer.
4. Refrigerate for several hours. Using overlapping ends of the foil, remove the cake from the pan. Move to a flat surface and cut into 1-inch squares. Store in the refrigerator.

I’M NOT READY FOR MY CLOSE-UP, MR. DEMILLE

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I was recently asked why I don’t have a cooking show. I never had my big break. I’ve been on various television shows in the past. A few years ago, when I was still editor of Kosher Gourmet magazine, I appeared on People Are Talking, a local show out of Hoboken, NJ. I remember they had a great green room, loaded with a wide variety of fresh pastries supplied by a local baker. (On the contrary, I was incredibly disappointed upon my first visit to the Food Network’s sparse green room.) I had prepared a few dishes beforehand to show and also prepared a dish on air. At the end of my performance, the host, named Renee, kissed me and invited me to come back anytime. She then apologized for her enthusiasm and explained that on the previous day, a local Italian chef had been her guest and he froze on air in a horrendously awkward segment. When Renee first laid eyes on me, she worried that I would do a repeat. However, “I was a natural.” Renee expounded that I talk so quickly, there’s never any dead time. Unfortunately, the following week, Renee was fired and her co-host promoted to sole host. (The co-host, who subsequently refused to give me a tape of my appearance, went on to turn the show into a trash talk show, the forerunner of Jerry Springer.) So much for my break!
After my first book, The World of Jewish Cooking, was published, I made my first of three appearances on the Food Network, all on a show hosted by Donna Hanover, then Mayor Giuliani’s wife. (This was when the network actually featured cooking, and not competitions and entertainment.) On the first occurrence, I made an Indian Rosh Hashanah curried carrot dish sweetened with bananas and raisins. When I added the oil to the heated pot, a huge blast of smoke came up. I figured I had embarrassed myself on live national television. Afterwards, however, the crew rushed over and congratulated me on my fantastic effects. The producer thought I had done a wonderful job and pondered the idea of my doing some sort of program. Later, I was informed that Jewish food was too narrow a niche for broadcasting.
On one occasion, an acquaintance who worked in sales for a New England television network asked to shoot a pilot of a cooking show featuring me. We filmed in a kitchen store, with no running water on the set and awkward conditions. His wife had second thoughts and he left me with the bills and an unusable video.
Besides television, I almost made it to the movies. My friend Stanley is an actor, whose agent asked him if he knew any rabbis. Stanley gave them my name. It seems that the producers of the successful movie Analyze This were planning a sequel, Analyze That, in which the father of the character played by Billy Crystal, dies, and they needed someone to supervise a Jewish burial scene. When I met with the powers-that-be, they asked if I would also be interested in appearing in the film as the rabbi performing the ceremony. They shot a Polaroid of me and informed me that they could arrange my SAG card. Well, it was not meant to be – either my role or SAG membership. The scene was changed and I was no longer needed. The movie did not do well, anyway. It was certainly no Godfather II.
More recently, I was interviewed and filmed for a PBS series, The Jewish Americans, on Jewish food. I spent an afternoon in the producer’s apartment making various traditional dishes and setting it up, then they shot my discussion. My scenes did not make it to PBS broadcasts, only included in a DVD and the outtakes section of the website. If you would like to view my outtakes from The Jewish Americans, go to: http://www.pbs.org/jewishamericans/watch/outtakes.html and click on the kasha box at the bottom. Enjoy!
I seem to end up on the cutting room floor. That’s show biz!
I was recently asked why I don’t have a cooking show. I never had my big break. I’ve been on various television shows in the past. A few years ago, when I was still editor of Kosher Gourmet magazine, I appeared on People Are Talking, a local show out of Hoboken, NJ. I remember they had a great green room, loaded with a wide variety of fresh pastries supplied by a local baker. (On the contrary, I was incredibly disappointed upon my first visit to the Food Network’s sparse green room.) I had prepared a few dishes beforehand to show and also prepared a dish on air. At the end of my performance, the host, named Renee, kissed me and invited me to come back anytime. She then apologized for her enthusiasm and explained that on the previous day, a local Italian chef had been her guest and he froze on air in a horrendously awkward segment. When Renee first laid eyes on me, she worried that I would do a repeat. However, “I was a natural.” Renee expounded that I talk so quickly, there’s never any dead time. Unfortunately, the following week, Renee was fired and her co-host promoted to sole host. (The co-host, who subsequently refused to give me a tape of my appearance, went on to turn the show into a trash talk show, the forerunner of Jerry Springer.) So much for my break!
After my first book, The World of Jewish Cooking, was published, I made my first of three appearances on the Food Network, all on a show hosted by Donna Hanover, then Mayor Giuliani’s wife. (This was when the network actually featured cooking, and not competitions and entertainment.) On the first occurrence, I made an Indian Rosh Hashanah curried carrot dish sweetened with bananas and raisins. When I added the oil to the heated pot, a huge blast of smoke came up. I figured I had embarrassed myself on live national television. Afterwards, however, the crew rushed over and congratulated me on my fantastic effects. The producer thought I had done a wonderful job and pondered the idea of my doing some sort of program. Later, I was informed that Jewish food was too narrow a niche for broadcasting.
On one occasion, an acquaintance who worked in sales for a New England television network asked to shoot a pilot of a cooking show featuring me. We filmed in a kitchen store, with no running water on the set and awkward conditions. His wife had second thoughts and he left me with the bills and an unusable video.
Besides television, I almost made it to the movies. My friend Stanley is an actor, whose agent asked him if he knew any rabbis. Stanley gave them my name. It seems that the producers of the successful movie Analyze This were planning a sequel, Analyze That, in which the father of the character played by Billy Crystal, dies, and they needed someone to supervise a Jewish burial scene. When I met with the powers-that-be, they asked if I would also be interested in appearing in the film as the rabbi performing the ceremony. They shot a Polaroid of me and informed me that they could arrange my SAG card. Well, it was not meant to be – either my role or SAG membership. The scene was changed and I was no longer needed. The movie did not do well, anyway. It was certainly no Godfather II.
More recently, I was interviewed and filmed for a PBS series, The Jewish Americans, on Jewish food. I spent an afternoon in the producer’s apartment making various traditional dishes and setting it up, then they shot my discussion. My scenes did not make it to PBS broadcasts, only included in a DVD and the outtakes section of the website. If you would like to view my outtakes from The Jewish Americans, go to: http://www.pbs.org/jewishamericans/watch/outtakes.html and click on the kasha box at the bottom. Enjoy!
I seem to end up on the cutting room floor. That’s show biz!

DON’T LET IT SNOW!

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It’s been a rough week or so. As you know, NYC was hit by more than a foot of snow last Wednesday, which, amongst many other aftereffects, caused the postponement of my cooking class for the JCC of Central NJ (1391 Martine Ave, Scotch Plains, NJ). This followed a weekend when there was no electricity or heat in my apartment from about 8:00 pm Friday night till after noon. And I’m still waiting for my landlord to fix the ceiling in my front room that is cracked and falling. Then this past Monday, my computer crashed and hours passed till I got it squared away. I will have to ramp up my search for a new laptop.
And today I woke up to another coating of snow on the ground and predictions of more on the way. Snow causes a separate problem for me — my apartment is on the first floor in the front. So everyone entering the building tends to stomp their feet to remove the snow, which, of course, is not pleasant when I’m trying to sleep. My Jersey JCC class is now scheduled for February 2, but I’ll have to see how the elements proceed today and tomorrow.
In the meantime, I’m in the mood for something warn and substantial. Nothing is as comforting and nourishing as a bowl of soup. The very name soup is evidence of its appeal. Every European language adapted some variant of this onomatopoeic sound of sipping heated liquid. During the medieval period, sop (sup) referred to a large piece of bread onto which porridge and broth was poured. The British took it a step further: Since soup (the combination of bread and broth) often served as the mainstay of the evening meal, one was said to the soup or sup, thus supper. If any food can be called universal, it is soup. Most cultures boast some form of ubiquitous native soup: Russian borscht, Provencal bouillabaisse, Italian minestrone, and Jewish penicillin (chicken soup).
I’m considering either a Southern gumbo or Italian cabbage soup. You can whip up a vegetarian gumbo by omitting the meatballs. Or I might opt for something else, depending on what I find in the market… after I trek through the new snow.

Gumbo
(6 to 8 servings)
A brown roux serves as the base for this Cajun and Creole classic. Since the flour loses most of its thickening ability during the long cooking process, the liquid is traditional thickened with okra or filé.

2 tablespoons (30 ml) vegetable oil
1 pound (455 grams) Creole meatballs (see below) or 2 pounds (900 grams) smoked sausage or kielbasa, sliced ½-inch thick
1 (4-pound) chicken, cut into 10 pieces
½ cup (120 ml) vegetable oil
½ cup (120 ml) all-purpose flour, preferably unbleached
2 medium yellow onions, finely chopped (2 cups/480 ml)
1 medium green bell pepper, seeded and finely chopped (½ cup/120 ml)
1 medium rib celery, finely chopped
4 to 6 cloves garlic, minced
2 quarts (2 liters) chicken broth, at room temperature
10 ounces (285 grams) okra, stems removed and cut into ½-inch rounds
2 bay leaves
About 1 teaspoon (5 ml) salt
About 1 teaspoon (5 ml) ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon (1.25 ml) cayenne
4 medium scallions (white and green parts), chopped
¼ cup (60 ml) chopped fresh parsley

1. Heat 2 tablespoons (30 ml) oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the meatballs or sausage and sauté until browned. Remove the meatballs.
2. Add the chicken and brown on both sides. Remove the chicken.
3. Heat ½ cup (120 ml) oil in 6-quart (6-liter) heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-high heat until about 200 degrees (95 C), about 1½ minutes. Reduce the heat to medium, add the flour, and stir with a wooden spoon until smooth. Cook, stirring constantly, until reddish brown, about 20 minutes. (If the roux begins to smoke, remove from heat and stir for a minute, then return to the heat.)
4. Add the onions, pepper, celery, and garlic and sauté until softened, about 10 minutes.
5. Gradually stir in the broth. Add the meatballs, chicken, okra, bay leaves, salt, pepper, and cayenne. Bring to a boil, cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 1 hour. Add the parsley and scallions. Serve with rice.

VARIATION:
Filé Gumbo: Omit the okra. Just before serving, remove the pot from the heat, let the boiling stop (or it will turn stringy), and stir in the 1 tablespoon (15 ml) filé powder. (NOTE – Filé is ground sassafras leaves that produces gelatinous thickening and a slight earthy flavor to gumbo. Do not use both filé and okra as the soup will be too thick.)

Creole Meatballs:
1 pound (455 grams) ground beef
1 small yellow onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
½ teaspoon (2.5 ml) salt
½ teaspoon (2.5 ml) ground black pepper
½ teaspoon (2.5 ml) dried thyme
¼ teaspoon (1.25 ml) cayenne
¼ teaspoon (1.25 ml) chili pepper
¼ teaspoon (1.25 ml) crushed red pepper

Combine all of the ingredients. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours and up to 2 days. Shape into 1½-inch meatballs.

Rivolita (Italian Cabbage Soup)
(6 to 8 servings)
3 tablespoons (45 ml) olive or vegetable oil
2 medium yellow onions, chopped (2 cups/480 ml/8 ounces/225 grams)
2 medium (about 3 ounces/85 grams each) carrots, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 quarts (2 liters) beef, chicken, or vegetable broth or water
1 large head (3 pounds/1.3 kg) green cabbage, cored and shredded
3 to 4 cups (700 to 900 ml/1¼ pounds/575 grams) peeled, seeded, and chopped tomatoes
1 bay leaf
3 to 4 cups (700 to 900 ml) cooked white beans
Salt and white pepper
1 loaf Italian or French bread
¼ cup (60 ml) olive oil

1. Heat 3 tablespoons (45 ml) oil in a stockpot or other large, heavy pot over medium heat. Add the onions, carrots, and garlic and sauté until softened (about 10 minutes).
2. Add the stock or water, cabbage, tomatoes, and bay leaf and simmer until tender (about 60 minutes). Add the beans and heat through.
3. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees (205 C).
4. Line the bottom and sides of a large casserole with thick slices of Italian or French bread. Pour the soup into the center and drizzle with olive oil. Bake until heated through (about 20 minutes). Serve hot.

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