1,000 Foods To Eat Before You Die: A Food Lover's Life List (109 page)

Where:
In New York
, 2nd Ave Deli at two locations,
2ndavedeli.com
;
in Houston
, Kenny & Ziggy’s New York Delicatessen, tel 713-871-8883,
kennyandziggys.com
.
Further information and recipes:
From My Mother’s Kitchen
by Mimi Sheraton (1979);
The Book of Jewish Food
by Claudia Roden (1996);
The 2nd Ave Deli Cookbook
by Sharon Lebewohl and Rena Bulkin (1999);
cookstr.com
(search fricassee sheraton).

Mother Necessity, that dear old instigator of invention, surely had her hand in the Jewish cassoulet called
cholent.
Forbidden from lighting fires or activating any energy source between sundown Friday and sundown Saturday—the beginning and ending of the Sabbath, or Shabbat—Jewish cooks thought ahead and devised this complex potful of meats, vegetables, and savory seasonings. Put in the oven before the Sabbath set in, it could be left to simmer away slowly until Saturday night dinner.

In olden times—actually only three or four generations back—not all home kitchens were outfitted with ovens. And so began the custom of carrying stew-filled pots to the local kosher bread baker; his ovens would have been turned off for the Sabbath, but remained hot enough to slow-cook all the neighborhood’s cholents.

The most basic cholents contain white beans and beef cuts such as brisket, flanken, or boneless chuck, and the list might extend to such nurturing substantials as barley, potatoes, and dried lima beans. A dash of powdered
ginger or paprika may lend spice to a standard base of onions, garlic, and black pepper, and variations on the theme include the addition of celery, onions, carrots, and schmaltz, hardboiled eggs that mellow in the rich juices, or the use of a sprinkling of flour or matzo meal as a thickening agent. Not even beef is a given—Jews around the world also make cholent with chicken, lamb, veal, turkey, duck, or goose, or nowadays in vegetarian versions as well.

Although the exact origins of the dish are difficult to pin down, Jewish cooks have been preparing it in some form for centuries, at least since the fourteenth. Its name most probably derives from a combination of the French
chaud
, meaning hot, and
lent
, meaning slow. In the Middle East, especially in Morocco, the dish is called
dfina
(or
adafina
), which is also the Sephardic name for a similar lamb-based casserole.

No matter what cholent contains or what it is called, it’s a complex casserole that emits a heady fragrance when its lid is lifted after the twenty-four-hour cooking time. To those who know the scent from childhood, it is the very perfume of home, family, and warm security.

Where:
In Las Vegas
, Haifa Restaurant, tel 702-940-8000,
haifarestaurant.com
.
Further information and recipes:
The Literary Gourmet
by Linda Wolfe (1962);
Sephardic Israeli Cuisine
by Sheilah Kaufman (2013);
The New York Times Jewish Cookbook
by Linda Amster (2003);
epicurious.com
(search cholent);
chabad.org
(search cholent);
saveur.com
(search cholent).
Tip:
The long-held adage of Jewish cooks is that the longer the cholent cooks, the better it will be.

Dried fruit turns luscious when stewed in spiced wine or fruit juice.

Compote
, meaning mixture, is one thing to the French—fresh fruit flavored with wines, brandy, and cream—and quite another to Jewish cooks, who make theirs out of a colorful array of dried fruits. Heavily associated with Passover, the classic seder dessert consists of dried fruits resuscitated by a simmering in a little spiced wine or fruit juice. With its homey charm and deep, warming flavors, the compote is also a year-round favorite as a conclusion to kosher dinners that include meat. Because all ingredients in it are pareve, meaning neutral, it is allowed after both dairy and meat-based meals.

What fruit? Prunes, apricots, apples, pears, cherries, golden raisins, or some combination thereof, simmered slowly with ginger, cinnamon, and perhaps cloves, in a combination of half water, half white or red wine until the fruits are softened and the liquid becomes a smooth,
dense syrup. Some Jewish grandmothers add honey for an amber richness, or brown sugar for a caramelized effect, while others squeeze in a bit of the fresh juice from lemons or oranges for a tart finish.

After it is cooked, the compote should be refrigerated for twenty-four hours so the flavors meld and the texture solidifies. The dessert may be served warm or cold; dressed up by spooning it into crystal goblets; or poured into a pan, topped with crushed macaroons or almonds, and baked like a cobbler. In any guise, it has a wonderfully aromatic quality that evokes nothing so much as family dinner and holiday china. It makes an excellent topping for yogurt or ice cream, and a great side dish for roasted poultry or meat. The compote can be stored in a jar or covered bowl in the refrigerator for up to two weeks. One final bonus: Dried fruit is high in potassium, which is said to relieve hypertension—a welcome attribute, perhaps, after the trials of a big family holiday meal.

Mail order:
For dried fruit, Russ & Daughters, tel 800-787-7229,
russanddaughters.com
; Zabar’s, tel 800-697-6301,
zabars.com
.
Further information and recipes:
The Veselka Cookbook
by Tom Birchard with Natalie Danford (2009);
The New York Times Passover Cookbook
edited by Linda Amster (2010);
kosherfood.about.com
(search dried fruit compote);
epicurious.com
(search fruit compote with port).
Tip:
When buying dried fruits, opt for sundried varieties and/or look for the term “unsulfured” on the packaging. Be sure the fruits are moist and shiny as opposed to leathery and dried out.

The airy wonder of true gefilte.

Gefilte may be the most ubiquitous fish dish in the Jewish culinary lexicon, whether we’re talking about the mass-produced, jarred versions available at supermarkets or the ready-made kind from kosher-style delis and dairy appetizer stores. But it is also the most celebratory fish dish, closely related to the haute-cuisine triumph
quenelles de brochet
(see
listing
). Essentially a kind of fish dumpling, it consists of fillets that are ground—or more desirably, chopped, and thus left with bite and texture—and poached in a flavorful broth.

One trick in preparing gefilte fish is to strike the right balance with the different types of freshwater fish. The most successful and traditional inclusions will be pike and whitefish, and maybe meaty red carp, if one can be sure the carp has not ingested mud. Freshwater fish are essential for true gefilte, never mind such fashionable interlopers as the overly soft, sweet salmon, fibrous cod, and others. But the eastern European Jews who created the dish had easy access to freshwater fish, while many species have become scarce in North America, and therein lies one challenge.

The raw, ground or chopped fish is mixed with eggs, plenty of ground onion, a small amount of matzo meal as a binder, and generous amounts of salt and pepper. To test the seasoning, housewives sometimes taste the raw mix, but they do so at great risk: Freshwater fish can carry a dangerous parasite, and during the High Holy Days when much fish is being “gefilted,” the Centers for Disease Control reports many calls about parasite cases. Far better to
make a small test ball, poach it, and then taste.

The poaching takes place in a broth flavored with the heads, bones, and skin of the fish, along with many more sliced onions, a sliver of parsnip or the Italian parsley root known as
petrouchka
, a piece of celery root, disks of carrots, and a handful of lightly crushed black peppercorns. After a long, very slow simmer, the fish balls are laid out in deep glass or ceramic trays or platters, with the strained broth and reserved carrot slices poured over. Left to set into an aspic as it chills in the refrigerator, the dish tastes best after eight hours and should always be served well chilled, never mind those few renegades who like their gefilte fish hot (and smelly, and cloyingly intense).

You might think all of these steps would assure gefilte perfection, but there’s one more: horseradish—a garnet beet version if tastes run to the sweet, or the sparer, sharper white kind that attains utmost pungency when grated at home. And don’t forget the matzo, the go-with of choice of serious mavens.

Things used to be even more complicated. The term
gefilte
(Yiddish) or
gefülte
(German) actually means stuffed, harkening back to the dish’s original preparation. In the olden days, prior to being poached, balls of the raw fish mix were wrapped in bands of black-gray fish skin. In a few kosher restaurants in the Marais, Paris’s Jewish quarter, the stuffing process was even more ambitious: Whole fish skins were filled with the fish farce, wrapped in cheesecloth, and poached, emerging as “whole” pike or whitefish from which portions were sliced crosswise. These were beautifully garnished with a shimmering aspic and rosettes of carrot. (Leave it to the French.)

Where:
In New York
, Barney Greengrass, tel 212-724-4707,
barneygreengrass.com
; Citarella at multiple locations,
citarella.com
;
in Houston
, Kenny & Ziggy’s New York Delicatessen, tel 713-871-8883,
kennyandziggys.com
.
Dine-in, retail, and mail order:
In New York
, Russ & Daughters, tel 212-475-4880,
russanddaughters.com
; Eli Zabar, tel 866-354-3547,
elizabar.com
;
in Ann Arbor, MI
, Zingerman’s, tel 888-636-8162,
zingermans.com
.
Further information and recipes:
Joan Nathan’s Jewish Holiday Cookbook
by Joan Nathan (2004);
The Book of Jewish Food
by Claudia Roden (1996);
The New York Times Jewish Cookbook
edited by Linda Amster (2003);
cookstr.com
(search gefilte fish lebewohl);
epicurious.com
(search classic gefilte fish).

Liver topped with hard-cooked egg, onion, and parsley.

A must as an appetizer for the traditional Friday-night Sabbath dinner, chopped chicken livers are rarely well prepared in kosher-style delicatessens and restaurants—and that’s unfair ammunition for the vocal contingent of liver haters.
Billed simply as chopped liver, it will invariably be made with beef liver, overly strong and bitter and simply wrong from the start. To make matters worse, instead of being truly chopped, it will be ground, for a mushy, if more conveniently realized, result.