Striking gold

This week, my sister is visiting from Israel. She does not eat meat. Or wheat. Or dairy. Or most fruit. She used to be a challenge when we were young and I guess some things never change. 

What do you feed someone whose list of things-I-can't-eat is basically a description of the contents of my kitchen?

When in doubt, says Jewish tradition, study Torah. All the answers in the world are there. As the Talmudic sage Ben Bag-bag said "Study the Torah this way and that, everything is in it".

Very well, then, let's study this week's parasha. In parashat Terumah, G-d instructs the Israelite (via Moshe) on how to construct the Mishkan, the tent in which the ark of the covenant will dwell. Naturally, the tent is not empty. There are instructions on how to build the Aron (ark), the Shulkhan (table), the Menorah, the Mizbehakh (altar) and so on. And everything, everything, has gold in it. 

Luckily for the Israelite, they left Egypt with loads and loads of gold. One might have wondered what in the world do they need the gold for. It's very heavy to carry and is of no use in the desert. Well, now we know why they schlepped it all the way from Egypt. Practically every item of the Mishkan is either made of gold or is covered in gold. 

Technically, they will still be schlepping it but from now on, it will certainly be useful. In their desert wanderings and later on, too.

So here we see the Israelite being instructed to take something with difficult associations (gold from their former tormentors) and turn it into something wonderful that will be the basis of their future. 

Hmmm.... 

Siblings sometimes have difficult memories from a shared childhood. My sister is an amazing woman. Very accomplished, hard working and super talented. But she is still driving me crazy with impossible demands. 

So let's turn gold into.... well, gold. 

Food for people who don't eat most things

• 1 1/2 cups wild rice (about 9 ounces)
• 2 teaspoons coarse kosher salt
• 3 cups 1/2-inch cubes peeled butternut squash (from 11/2-pound squash)
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter or margarine*, divided
• 1 1/2 cups finely chopped leeks (white part only)
• 1 1/2 cups frozen white corn kernels, thawed
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh Italian parsley

Rinse rice in strainer under cold water; drain. Bring 6 cups water and 2 teaspoons coarse salt to boil in large saucepan. Add rice; bring to boil. Reduce heat; simmer uncovered until rice grains begin to split and are tender but still slightly chewy, about 45 minutes. Drain and let cool.

While rice cooks, preheat oven to 350°F. Oil rimmed baking sheet. Toss squash cubes and 3 tablespoons oil in medium bowl. Spread squash in single layer on prepared sheet; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast just until tender but firm enough to hold shape, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Transfer squash to bowl and let cool.

Melt 4 tablespoons butter (or margarine) in a large skillet over medium heat. Add leeks and 3/4 cup water; simmer until leeks are tender, about 7 minutes. Add corn; simmer 2 minutes longer. Add rice and butternut squash; simmer until heated through and liquid is absorbed, about 4 minutes. Stir in 2 tablespoons butter (or margarine) and parsley. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer to bowl and serve. 

6-8 servings. 

* Note: You can use butter or margarine but the difference in taste is huge. Unless absolutely necessary, use butter.

Pierced ears

 This post is dedicated to my youngest child who will officially become a teenager this weekend. And may G-d have mercy on our souls.


Just before her 13th birthday, my youngest daughter said, again, that she might, possibly, maybe, think about getting her ears pierced. As expected, my husband protested long and loud. He has this thing, you see, about needles. Me, I'm neutral. It's her ears, after all. Let her do what she wants with them.

When G-d was suddenly faced with the need to turn a pack of disorderly former slaves into independent, strong and moral freemen, he started off, strangely, it seems, with rules about slavery. And the strangest of them all was the business about the ear piercing.

Why the rules of slavery first? Probably because that was a subject they knew the most about. Kind of "start with the familiar". He then goes on to give them the basics of decent society, covering in one short parasha a wide range of legal and moral rules of thumb that seem very 'obvious' to us modern men and women living for generations in the "land of the free". These were obviously not obvious for the sons and grandsons of slaves, who needed to be taught everything from the ground up.

Isn't it interesting then, that among the rules G-d had considered essential for a decent society there is a rule about cooking?

In Exodus, chapter 23 verse 19 it says "...do not cook a baby goat in its mother's milk". This is a very famous verse. It is the basis for about half of the rules of kosher food. And it apparently was important enough to be included in the first installment of laws that G-d dictated to Moshe on top of Sinai.

I love G-d. He truly is awesome and wonderful. But really, He couldn't include a recipe or two here? OK, we got the "don't cook meat with dairy", but how, then, are we supposed to cook it? Boil? Broil? Saute? Braise? Fricasseed? Fried? What?

My husband's family tell an excellent story about an incident that happened in Iran. It seems a bunch of them went out to dinner at a place that was run by non-Jews (apparently it was OK to eat at a non Jewish restaurant since Iran is a Muslim country and so they were assured of no pork). They ordered the crown dish of Iranian cuisine - Chello Kebab. This is a succulent, aromatic, mouth watering dish that is pure simplicity. Fluffy, delicate Basmati rice, cooked to absolute perfection (and you cannot possibly know how wonderful "plain" rice is until you have tried this rice). This is served with simply seasoned, wonderfully flavorful, barbecued chunks of beef or lamb and accompanied by platters of fresh, pungent herbs, onions and radishes. It's really, really good. 

Anyway, the party was digging in when it turned out this was the best chello-kebab any of them have ever eaten. So they call the manager over to offer their praise and ask what in the world does he do to the food to make it so good. Proudly, the man explained that the secret is in the large amounts of butter they season the rice with. 

Gulp.

OK. So this is one recipe I will not be releasing here. But you can still learn how to cook rice so it is a "fit for a king" main course instead of a lowly side dish. All Iranian readers are invited to comment and tell me how they cook their rice and how wrong my way is. Just remember, I have learned it from my Iranian mother in law and she is one formidable woman and I will refer all your comments to her. So there.

Not-so-plain rice

1. Use only Basmati rice (and not brown Basmati). Put it in a large bowl and fill with water. Swish it around with your hand and drain. Repeat 3 times until water is quite clear. Drain.

Cover with fresh water and add salt (regular table salt, about 1 1/2 Tbs for 2 1/2 cups rice). 

Let rice soak overnight or at least 3 hours (m-u-c-h better overnight). Drain.

2. Boil more water (about 2 Qt for 2 1/2 cups rice) with 2 Tbs salt. When the water boils, add drained rice and cook 10-15 minutes over medium high heat, stirring occasionally to prevent the rice from sticking. Drain the rice in a large strainer and rinse in warm water. If this sounds like cooking pasta, you're not wrong. You even want the rice to be sort of "al-dente".

3. Heat 3 Tbs of oil (not olive oil) in the same pot you cooked the rice in, over medium-low heat. Add spoonfuls of rice one at a time, spreading it around, until the bottom of the pot is covered with rice. You can make this layer of rice thin or thick. Some people keep adding rice until a cone-shape is created.

4. Add the rest of the rice to the pot. Pour 5 Tbs of oil (not olive oil) over the rice in the pot.

5. Cover the opening of your pot with a double layer of paper towels. Put the lid on and add 2 or 3 layers of dish towels on top of the lid.
 

6. Cook over medium heat for 15 minutes. Lower heat to very low and continue cooking for another 45 minutes. Resist the temptation to "check on the rice". The lid must stay on at all times until the rice is done.

This will serve 4 as a main dish, 8-10 as a side dish.

Very Important Note: The rice at the bottom of the pot will turn brown and crispy. It's a bit hard to get it out but it is the best part of the rice. You can scrape it out and scatter pieces over the rice before serving. It's delish.

Oh, and the ear piercing (mandatory for Iranian girls)? If we read the parasha carefully, it almost seems as if the law-maker said to Himself "It's his freedom. after all. Let him do what he wants with it"

Smoke alarm

You know what I'm talking about, right? In this week's parasha there is the description of Ma'amad Har Sinai - the standing at Sinai. Very impressive event. In Exodus 19 (verses 16, 18,19) there are descriptions of the "special effects": loud sounds and smoke. Lots of smoke. And very loud noises. What are these for? I mean, not only were the people already informed of the momentous, life changing event about to take place, and not only had they spent the last 3 days getting ready, they have already agreed (Exodus19:8) to do everything G-d told them to do. Was there anyone there who was not aware of where, when, who and what is about to happen? why the smoke and noise? Do they serve a purpose?

We used to have a sign in the kitchen that read "Dinner will be served at the sound of the smoke alarm". Visitors used to think it was cute. Little did they know. That sign was an accurate description of what happens in the kitchen when my husband cooks.

Before various people (MIL, BFF, Hubby's fan club, etc.) jump down my throat, let me state clearly that my husband is an excellent cook, as anyone who ate his cooking can tell you. His fresh tuna is wonderful, his whole tilapia is great and he is the only one who can cook an egg that my oldest will deign to eat. That being said, hubby is prone to absent-mindedness (of the professorial kind) and tends to put a pot on the stove, wander off and forget it is there until the kitchen's ceiling changes color from the smoke. Hence, the sign. And the long stick my young daughter keeps in a corner under the smoke alarm, so she can reach it and silence the noise when the smoke is simply a side effect of Aba's cooking.

The smoke alarm (never mind the smoke) is very upsetting, annoying and, well, alarming. But the food is yummy and we know he loves us very much and cares enough to cook for us.

Is it possible that the smoke and loud noise at Sinai were not meant to do anything. Maybe they were simply side effects of G-d's presence or His actions.

 

It is important not to be distracted by the smoke and the noise that sometimes accompany G-d's presence and actions. Not to mistake the "special effects" for the real message. And isn't that true of our relationships with those who are created in His image, as well?

Here is something my husband cooks very well. It is not an exact recipe. I watched him make it and it seems simple enough so I will describe it and you can try it at home. But, please, only after you made sure your smoke alarm is in working order and you have a way to shut it off quickly if necessary. I don't want your neighbors complaining.

Eggs in tortilla 

(No, this is not the egg my daughter will eat. This is the one everyone else eats)

Per person: 1 burrito size tortilla or a wrap

            2 eggs 

            oil for frying (not olive oil)

In a large skillet, over high heat, heat about a 1/2 inch of oil. Break the eggs into a small bowl (try not to break the yolks).

Gently lay half of a tortilla into the skillet, holding the other half upright so it does not touch the oil. Quickly pour the eggs on top of the tortilla part that is in the skillet (as close to the middle as you can)

and immediately cover with the other half of the tortilla.

Fry for a minute or two until lightly browned. Carefully turn  over, using two large spatulas or a pair of tongs and a wooden spoon, if you're very quick (you need to turn the tortilla over while supporting the top) and cook another minute.

Carefully transfer to a plate.

If you wish to add salt and pepper - I suggest you do it while the eggs are still in the small bowl. Hubby doesn't add anything and I never missed it.

Eating with the seasons

About a million years ago, when I was studying for my Natural Healing certificate, part of the required reading was a book called "Staying healthy with the seasons". It advocated eating fruits and veggies that were "in season" as opposed to tomatoes in January and apples in June.

At the time, we were living in a one bedroom apartment in Nutley and my husband was just getting into gardening. He had his first 'garden'  in a red wheelbarrow on our tiny porch. You'd be surprised how much he had managed to get out of that "garden".

When I bit into our first tomato, I was flooded with the memories of my childhood in Israel. Of grapes that were big and juicy and sweet from the sun. And only came to the market in August. Of apricots, small but potent, with flesh that melts like honey in your mouth, and that you could only have around June and that were, therefore, all the more treasured. After all, if you can have something any old time you feel like it, you don't need to crave it. You don't wax poetic about it in the months when it is not available. Your mouth does not water when you remember the flavor. You don't wait impatiently for the first of its kind to show up in the neighborhood's market. You don't eat the last of it with sweet sorrow, knowing it will be a whole year before you'll taste it again.

There is a special b'racha to be said upon eating a fruit for the first time that year (or ever). Some people actually delay eating certain fruits so that they will be able to say this b'racha when they eat it for the first time on Rosh Hashana. That b'racha is, of course, "Shehecheyanu". I say it every summer, when my loving hubby comes rushing in from the garden (which has long ago outgrown the wheelbarrow), with the first fig, grape, tomato or pepper of the summer. (Well, if I wait with it until Rosh Hashana, I would have to say it over a store bought fruit and it is simply not the same). It always amazes me anew how very apt this b'racha is for this particular activity. When you bite into a home grown tomato, deep red in color, bursting with juice and flavor, warmed by the bright sunny days of summer, you understand why it is called a 'fruit' and you understand why it is so worth waiting for that there is a need to thank G-d for letting us live long enough to have that sublime experience.

But when you buy a tomato in the supermarket in February, you can be sure it will taste like snow. And that it has probably traveled half the world to arrive at your table. And you know how you are after a long flight so you can imagine how the tomato feels.

Still, there are times when you are faced with winter tomatoes (because your husband went to his secret warehouse of fresh produce and brought back a whole crate of them). You know the ones I'm talking about. Pink, mealy orbs that never really ripen into your memory of one of summer's luscious treats. And here they are, taking up space in the kitchen. They are barely edible in salads and too hard and dry to cook into sauce.

This calls for drastic measures.

Summer-ized winter tomatoes

4 large, hard, pinkish tomatoes (I suppose this will work well with ripe ones but this is what I had on hand)

3-4 Tbs extra virgin olive oil

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 tsp Italian seasoning

1/4 tsp kosher salt

pinch black pepper

1 tsp sugar

Sugar is the secret weapon. Tomatoes would have sugar naturally if allowed to sunbathe. But winter tomatoes never see the sun so we need to supply the sugar.

Slice tomatoes into 1/2 inch thick slices. Arrange in one layer on a well oiled shallow baking pan.

Sprinkle with very little sugar (one tiny pinch per slice). Mix the rest of the ingredients. Brush tomato slices generously with oil mix. Bake at 400 degrees for about 35-40 minutes or until tomatoes are very soft and some start to brown at the edges. 

This is very good with grilled chicken or beef. It's wonderful with a sprinkle of cheese (feta, Parmesan or cheddar) and it is awesome all by itself as a light meal with some crusty bread.

On the whole, though, I do urge you to consider eating produce at the right season. It's tastier, cheaper, better for the environment and better for you both physically (produce that is eaten in its natural growing season will provide the body with more of what you eat it for than produce that had to fly in from Timbuktu) and spiritually (when you eat according to G-d's plan, you become part of it). Good things come to those who wait.

Kvetchers

You'd think the Israelite would be grateful. G-d had just delivered them from 400 years of slavery. He'd performed amazing miracles, punished their oppressors, arranged things so they would leave with tons of gold and silver and other worldly possessions, and is leading them by a pillar of fire to freedom and a promised land of milk and honey. You'd think they would appreciate everything that was given to them and be grateful and happy. Hah!

Remember, these are early stage Jews we are talking about. Granted, it will take the (spoiler alert) giving of the Torah and various historical events to create the Jews of today, but the basics were already there. And the one thing Jews do better than anyone else is complain. We even have names for different modes of complaining: Kvetch, groan, nag, moan, whine, krechtzen (you don't know this one? It's my father's favorite).

And the Israelite who came out of Egypt did not invent it. Even Avraham had some slips of self pity, not to mention outright challenging of the Almighty. Just a few parashot ago, Ya'akov kvetches to Pharaoh that his life was short and bad (as if). Apparently, it's a family trait.

What do the Israelite complain about? Everything. And they don't wait too long to do it.

First, there is the "What? There aren't enough graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die?" (Exodus 14:11-12). Then they nag about the bad tasting water (Exodus 15:24). Then there isn't enough food (Exodus 16:2-3). You notice they space their complaints so there is one per chapter. They end up (for this parasha, don't worry, there are many more complaints ahead later) with a complaint because there is no water (Exodus 17:2-3).  It sort of reminds one of traveling with little kids, doesn't it? It's a testament to Moshe's greatness that he did not send them right back to Egypt.

And don't think that things have changed much since then. My friend Debbie tells a (true) story about her kids. It seems that years ago, when they were little, one afternoon she and her husband Hal found themselves having no dinner ready when dinner time rolled around and decided to treat the kids to a dinner that (they foolishly thought) will satisfy everyone: ice cream for dinner! What a novel idea. Anyway, the kids still found things to complain about: I don't like this flavor, how come we don't have my favorite topping, can't we have something else and so on.

So you see Jews have not changed much since the exodus. Since starting this blog (and believe me, for a techno-phobe like me, a blog is a very big deal), I have had endless complaints from friends and family. Here is a short list:

"There aren't enough pictures. My friend has a blog and she has many pictures. How come yours doesn't have pictures?"

"It's too long"

"You did not discuss anything relating to the parasha"

"There is too much 'religious' stuff"

"This line is off-putting"

"You're making fun of my mom" (guess who said that)

"You'd better be careful what you're writing because I will be reading it" (I think that was a threat but what do I know).

"The recipes are too complicated"

"I don't like.... " (whatever ingredient was there)

"You have to be more careful of people's feelings" (Huh??)

"Your blog is only for women" 

"You're bad-mouthing men" (As if it's my fault they behave that way).

I am not Moshe (never could grow a decent beard, can't carry heavy tablets, never mind that "40 days on top of the mountain without food"). So my answer to kvetchers is to kvetch back.

Kvetch is an Yiddish word that originally meant to crush or press. In modern Hebrew kvetch came to mean mash, as in mashed potatoes.

I like mashed potatoes. It's such an ultimate comfort food. But I couldn't possibly get away with giving you a recipe for mashed potatoes. A. Everyone knows how to make this. B. It will add to the list of complaints ("It's not creative enough").

Some years ago (ok, ok, many years ago), I have discovered yams. Of course, I have encountered yams before, but it was always on Thanksgiving and they were always awfully sweet and covered with melting marshmallows. Not that I'm complaining,.... well, ok, yes, I am complaining (being Jewish and all). Yams are so sweet on their own that adding sugar and marshmallows is really an overkill unless we're talking dessert. Then one day my Natural Healing teacher gave a class on yams and I found out you can serve them in savory ways. Who knew?

Went back home (we were still in an apartment then, sans kids) and made the following:

Kvetchers' kvetch
(a "kvetch"ed dish to soothe even the worst complainers)

2 large white potatoes (all purpose or baking potatoes)

2 large yams (about the same size as the white potatoes)

1 medium onion, chopped

1 cup (or more, if you really like them) white mushrooms, sliced

Salt, pepper, granulated garlic, paprika

Oil (not olive oil) for frying

Peel and cube potatoes and yams. Cover with water and cook in separate pots (one for potatoes, one for yams) until very soft. Drain and reserve 1/4 cup or so of the cooking liquid (I just don't drain them too well).

Mash each separately.

Meanwhile, saute the onion in a little oil (about 4 tablespoons. You can use less but it won't be as good and you'll have to watch it constantly) over medium-high heat until it starts to turn golden brown. Do NOT use a non stick skillet. Things won't brown as well and the flavor will be different.

Add sliced mushrooms and cook until they brown. This may take a few minutes (10 or so) because they first have to get rid of their liquids. Be patient, Stir occasionally and wait until they shrink, brown and the skillet is not filled with liquid (there will be some liquid).

Season generously with salt, pepper, garlic and paprika. Cook another minute or two until the spices are mixed with the pan liquids and coat the mushrooms and onion well.

Arrange mashed potatoes on half of a serving platter, Arrange mashed yams on other half, Top both with onion-mushroom mix. Serve warm. This is for fancy presentation.

For true comfort food: Mix mashed yams and potatoes but not too well (you should have streaks of white and orange in the mix, along with parts that are truly mixed). Add the onion-mushroom mix and mix it (not very thoroughly) into the potatoes and yams.

Eat with a large spoon. Share only with those who will sympathize with your kvetching.

This will probably make you thirsty (I told you to be generous with the seasonings). Go out in the yard, find a likely rock and smack it with a walking stick. It worked for Moshe, didn't it?