Why not try it this way? said Yitro when he saw his son in law working himself to an early grave.
Later events (the next 3 books of the bible) proved that Yitro did not speak nearly as strongly as he should have. True, Moshe took his father in law's advice and created an impressively detailed judicial system, which made his daily life simpler and easier, but that took care of only one aspect of dealing with his people.
What Yitro should have said was "Run, my son. Run while you still can. These people will never be anything but a bunch of complainers who will make your life bitter and make you old before your time. Run."
Of course, Moshe, being Moshe, would not dream of abandoning his charges in the middle of the desert. First of all, he apparently loved them very much, as demonstrated by the many times he appealed to G-d on their behalf. Second, he was under direct orders from a much higher authority than Yitro. One does not abandon one's job when one has been given said job by G-d Himself. At least we should hope not. And third, luckily for all involved, he had no idea just how difficult the Israelites will prove to be. They gave him a few samples before: the incidents of the sea, the water (twice!) and the food. But he probably assumed these were legitimate complaints (of course people will be upset when there's no water or food, it's only natural) and they will behave as planned from now on. After all, they were headed for grand things, weren't they?
Oy, the naivete of the poor man. They sure set him straight in no time, didn't they? Yet he still loved them, took care of them, fought for them and, even in his last days, worried about their welfare. Well, he was Moshe, the one and only.
Still, I can't help wondering what would have happened if Yitro had added another "why not try it this way" to his original advice. Luckily he did not.
Sometimes it's not so good to try to do things differently. Sometimes it's a great idea. Like in the case of this week's parasha. And in the case of the following recipe, which I found online and which strikes me as genius. Thank you Ruthy Keinan for this recipe.
Ptitim with lentils
(Ptitim - is the Israeli name for what is called "Israeli couscous". It's a type of tiny pebbles of baked pasta that are very quick to cook and adapt itself to almost anything. You can use it as pasta or as you would use rice. You can find it in many stores. They are usually served alone as a side dish. Here they are combined with lentils for a vegetarian main course. And you can easily mix in some cooked meat or chicken and make it carnivore-friendly.)
1 Lb lentils, cooked in water for 20-30 minutes, until tender, then drained.
2 onions, chopped
2 Tbs vegetable oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 carrots, cubed (small cubes)
5 cups broth (vegetables or chicken)
1 Lb. Ptitim (Israeli couscous)
Salt and pepper to taste
1 Tbs spice mix (you can use any mixture of spices you want, for example: paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, coriander, curry. Mix small amounts of these together and then measure out 1 Tbs of the mixture. Or use one of those ready made mixtures for chicken or steak or meatballs or whatever.)
2 Tbs chopped fresh parsley
Saute onions in oil until slightly golden. Add garlic and cook 1 minute.
Add carrots and cook for a few minutes until slightly soft.
Add broth and bring to a boil.
Add cooked lentils and return to a boil.
Add ptitim, salt, pepper and spice mix. Return to a boil.
Cook, covered, over low heat, for 7 minutes.
Remove from heat, stir in parsley. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.
serves 6-8
Every once in a while, it's good to step back and get a different perspective on what we do. Sometimes it will make our lives more comfortable. Sometimes it will reinforce our faith in our own genius. Sometimes it will show us how to better follow the path we've been assigned.
Showing posts with label middle eastern. Show all posts
Showing posts with label middle eastern. Show all posts
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Say WHAT???
Now what would you say if your husband came home one day and announced that he was moving the whole household to another country? When it happened to me, I was totally fine with it because it was just the two of us, we had almost no possessions (being practically newly weds) and our destination was not on a need-to-know basis.
But what if he had asked me to pack up a houseful of dishes, furniture, clothes, tools, animals and servants? And when I ask "where are we going?" (just so I'll know what sort of clothes to pack, you understand), he would say "Not sure, dear, we'll get instructions on the way." How would an average woman respond to such a request?
The torah doesn't say but, knowing what we later learned about her temperament, we can safely assume Sarai did not take this calmly. I suppose it went something like that:
"Oh, you impossible, exasperating man. How in the world do you come up with these cockamamie plans? What do you mean 'we're leaving'? Did it even occur to you to consult me on the subject? Wasn't it enough that you took me away from Ur Kasdim? Now you want me to move again? And for what? Do you have any clue about what is involved in such a move, even if I was to lose my mind and agree to it? How do you plan to carry all of our possessions? Or do you think I should leave everything behind? Because I am telling right now, it ain't gonna happen. And what will the neighbors think? Not only are we the only monotheists in the whole world, we are now to also be the only ones leaving without a forwarding address. What am I supposed to tell my friends? How am I supposed to keep in touch with them? Facebook will not be invented for thousands of years yet. Look, Abe, I like city life. I like living in a modern house, going to the market, gossiping with the girls by the well, having an afternoon tea with my friends. Why, just the other day I got this awesome recipe from my friend Firoozeh; she's new in town. She says she comes from some land called, if you can believe it, "paras", where they talk with a funny accent but cook some really interesting food. She gave me this recipe for an amazing soup and dumplings, and I know how you love dumplings. If we leave, I do not think I will ever be able to acquire the ingredients for this dish. Are you absolutely sure you want to risk it? Wait, where are you going? You are not seriously leaving me to do all the packing by myself, are you? Hmpf. Typical."
In the end, he talked her into it. Just as later, he talked her into passing as his sister, and he talked G-d into reconsidering the destruction of S'dom, and he talked Efron into taking money for the cave of Makhpelah. Very convincing fellow, our ancestor.
And so Sarai organized the servants to pack the pots and pans, and the clothes, and the tents, and the animals. And, like any woman worth her salt, she must have packed the special herbs and spices of her native land because she knew what men usually tend to forget: that, while traveling exposes one to new and exciting adventures, it is the familiar smells and flavors of home cooking that make the strange new place feel, at least a little bit, like home.
And as time went by, I hope Sarai learned to love the new land she came to call home, made new friends and exchanged new recipes, knitting patterns and gossipy tidbits. And found happiness.
I know I did.
A little before Rosh Hashana, my friend Mara (who is, Baruch Hashem, doing much better) sent me a link from her Rabbi about interesting recipes for the chag, and asked if I knew what chickpea flour was. Do I ever. It's a staple in Iranian cooking and might have been the above mentioned recipe Sarai learned from the woman who came from a land where they talk with a funny accent.
I am bringing it here exactly as it appeared in the email. Give it a try. You can buy chickpea flour in the special flours isle at Shoprite (where they also have stuff like rye flour and rice flour, by a company called Bob's Red Mill. Their hechsher is K)
Dumplings:
2. In a large pot, add the olive oil, sliced onions and celery and cook until beginning to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the chicken broth, lemon juice, turmeric, and salt and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the gundi, cover, and simmer until the gundi are tender, about 40 minutes.
3. Add some chopped fresh herbs to your soup bowl. Spoon dumplings and broth over herbs and serve.
Aren't we all glad Sarai was willing to leave everything familiar (again) and travel to an undisclosed destination (through the desert, no less) and make it her home, thereby starting the "wandering Jew" trend which led, eventually, to space exploration? Because how else would we know what Mars looks like?
But what if he had asked me to pack up a houseful of dishes, furniture, clothes, tools, animals and servants? And when I ask "where are we going?" (just so I'll know what sort of clothes to pack, you understand), he would say "Not sure, dear, we'll get instructions on the way." How would an average woman respond to such a request?
The torah doesn't say but, knowing what we later learned about her temperament, we can safely assume Sarai did not take this calmly. I suppose it went something like that:
"Oh, you impossible, exasperating man. How in the world do you come up with these cockamamie plans? What do you mean 'we're leaving'? Did it even occur to you to consult me on the subject? Wasn't it enough that you took me away from Ur Kasdim? Now you want me to move again? And for what? Do you have any clue about what is involved in such a move, even if I was to lose my mind and agree to it? How do you plan to carry all of our possessions? Or do you think I should leave everything behind? Because I am telling right now, it ain't gonna happen. And what will the neighbors think? Not only are we the only monotheists in the whole world, we are now to also be the only ones leaving without a forwarding address. What am I supposed to tell my friends? How am I supposed to keep in touch with them? Facebook will not be invented for thousands of years yet. Look, Abe, I like city life. I like living in a modern house, going to the market, gossiping with the girls by the well, having an afternoon tea with my friends. Why, just the other day I got this awesome recipe from my friend Firoozeh; she's new in town. She says she comes from some land called, if you can believe it, "paras", where they talk with a funny accent but cook some really interesting food. She gave me this recipe for an amazing soup and dumplings, and I know how you love dumplings. If we leave, I do not think I will ever be able to acquire the ingredients for this dish. Are you absolutely sure you want to risk it? Wait, where are you going? You are not seriously leaving me to do all the packing by myself, are you? Hmpf. Typical."
In the end, he talked her into it. Just as later, he talked her into passing as his sister, and he talked G-d into reconsidering the destruction of S'dom, and he talked Efron into taking money for the cave of Makhpelah. Very convincing fellow, our ancestor.
And so Sarai organized the servants to pack the pots and pans, and the clothes, and the tents, and the animals. And, like any woman worth her salt, she must have packed the special herbs and spices of her native land because she knew what men usually tend to forget: that, while traveling exposes one to new and exciting adventures, it is the familiar smells and flavors of home cooking that make the strange new place feel, at least a little bit, like home.
And as time went by, I hope Sarai learned to love the new land she came to call home, made new friends and exchanged new recipes, knitting patterns and gossipy tidbits. And found happiness.
I know I did.
A little before Rosh Hashana, my friend Mara (who is, Baruch Hashem, doing much better) sent me a link from her Rabbi about interesting recipes for the chag, and asked if I knew what chickpea flour was. Do I ever. It's a staple in Iranian cooking and might have been the above mentioned recipe Sarai learned from the woman who came from a land where they talk with a funny accent.
I am bringing it here exactly as it appeared in the email. Give it a try. You can buy chickpea flour in the special flours isle at Shoprite (where they also have stuff like rye flour and rice flour, by a company called Bob's Red Mill. Their hechsher is K)
Chicken and Chickpea Dumplings (Gundi) in Chicken Soup
Adapted from Encyclopedia of Jewish Food by Gil MarksDumplings:
- 1 pound ground chicken
- 1.5 cups chickpea flour
- 2 medium yellow onions, grated
- 3 tablespoons vegetable oil or 1 large egg, lightly beaten
- 1 teaspoon ground turmeric
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- About 1 teaspoon salt
- About 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
- 1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
- About 2 tablespoons water
- 2 quarts/boxes chicken broth
- 1 large onion, thinly sliced
- 2 stalks celery, chopped
- 1 tsp olive oil
- 1 tablespoon lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon ground turmeric
- Salt to taste
- Assorted chopped fresh herbs: any combination of basil, parsley and cilantro
2. In a large pot, add the olive oil, sliced onions and celery and cook until beginning to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the chicken broth, lemon juice, turmeric, and salt and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the gundi, cover, and simmer until the gundi are tender, about 40 minutes.
3. Add some chopped fresh herbs to your soup bowl. Spoon dumplings and broth over herbs and serve.
Aren't we all glad Sarai was willing to leave everything familiar (again) and travel to an undisclosed destination (through the desert, no less) and make it her home, thereby starting the "wandering Jew" trend which led, eventually, to space exploration? Because how else would we know what Mars looks like?
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Asking for peace
If I forget thee....
But we did not forget, did we? This week, we are in Jerusalem, and let me tell you, no one here forgets anything. From the Arab cab driver who remembers every little insult hurled his way by passing Jews, to the pilgrims standing in line to touch the rock upon which Jesus was crucified, to the Jewish women who sit and cry in front of the one spot at the Kotel tunnels that the archaeologists had determined is located directly in front of the holy-of-hollies. People here have long memories. Thousands of years long.
But the ones who touched our hearts this week were the guides. Young men and women who take people from all over the world around their beloved city and tell about its history with pride, passion and conviction. The guide who took us through the Kotel tunnels had tears in his eyes when he talked about being so close to the holy-of-hollies, yet so impossibly far away from it, since it is located under the dome of the rock mosque. The guide who led us around the city of David must have told the story many, many times and still there was awe in her voice when she told of finding seals inscribed with names of people who are actually mentioned in the bible. And their excitement was contagious. My youngest daughter told me, as we strolled past the Kotel (for the third time this week), after visiting the city of David : "Can you imagine how amazing it would be if Beit HaMikdash was standing?" Can you imagine what a heartbreak it was to explain that the chances for it happening without divine intervention are between zero and nothing? That as long as the mosque is there, we can't even build a succah at the holiest place for Judaism?
In this week's parasha, in D'varim chapter 20, verses 10-13, the Israelites are commanded to always ask for peace before attacking an enemy. If the enemy agrees to peace, OK. But if not; if they make war with you - then, go for it, baby, smite this enemy, mwahaha. But first you must try the "peace talks" route.
Which the Israelis did. Many, many times. Over many, many years. At the cost of many, many lives. The "enemy" keeps resisting. These, btw, are facts; not opinions. Check history if you don't believe me. No matter what accusations the Palestinians put at the feet (or rather, 'hurl at the head') of Israel, the fact remains that Israel always tries for peace and they always refuse. So it seems the time has come for activating some of the Jerusalemite memory and move to the next phase, as described in the bible. This, btw, is an opinion.
Meanwhile, the "simple people" here, try their best to live as normal a life as it is possible to live in a place where every stone is loaded with historical meaning. People like the above mentioned cab driver, the stall merchants in the old city, the tour guides and the cooks and waiters in the city's eateries. Everyone is simply trying to make a living. And in the evenings, when the harsh heat abates, they spill into the streets and sit in the many cafes, little restaurants and bars; most of them outdoors, enjoying the refreshing breeze and the night life; just trying to live as if it is perfectly normal to have signs everywhere directing you to the nearest bomb shelter, soldiers patrolling holy places and guards asking you to open your bags when you enter a store, so you can prove you carry no weapons. Too bad they don't check people's mouths. I know some teenage girls who should register theirs as lethal.
Naturally, we ate a lot in restaurants this week, which is how we were introduced to our new favorite dish: Eggplant "Baladi". Now, when I was a young girl, back in the olden days, the word 'baladi' meant 'homegrown' or 'organic'. Sort of "this was raised by simple farmers on a small farm using no sophisticated modern methods". Nowadays, apparently, it means "smothered in Tahini". It's a dish that represents very well what can happen when Israelis and Palestinians actually cooperate. I'm sure they did not mean to, and it's only in the kitchen, but hey, whatever works, right?
I, being on vacation, and having zero access to a proper kitchen this week, am not a 100% sure how this dish is made. But, I can sort of tell you the 'storyline' of the dish, with ideas and hints, and let you work from there. OK?
So, first of all, you need the type of eggplant that is fat and chunky. It's not exactly black and not exactly purple but a mixture of both. It's also not smooth like the regular eggplants but has some sort of vertical, not very large ridges. You may be able to do this with a regular eggplant that is very fat around but it will have plenty of seeds and taste not so great.
OK. You've got the right eggplant. You will need one per person. You need to get the flesh super soft without charring the skin too badly. This can be done by baking it thoroughly and then peeling carefully. So, put the eggplant in a pan (it's a good idea to spray it first). Make one or two small slits in it. Cover with foil (see if you can make sure the foil does not touch the eggplant.) Bake at 450F for about 20-30 minutes or until a fork can get in easily. Check after the first 20 minutes and every 10 minutes after, until you get a consistency you can imagine eating without any real chewing.
Take it out and let it cool a little. Peel it very carefully, leaving it as whole as you can, leaving the stem intact. You should have a peeled, cooked, whole eggplant, with the stem holding it all together.
Prepare some Tahini (mix sesame paste with enough water to the consistency of stirred yogurt; this requires patient stirring and plenty of faith; add the water slowly.) Spice it up to your liking with salt, pepper, crushed garlic, lemon juice and (optional) chopped parsley.
Next, prepare a tomato sauce. We had this with either a freshly made tomato salsa (quite spicy) or a cooked sauce a little like creamy tomato sauce for pasta, very mild and sweet-like. Both versions are excellent.
Reheat the eggplant a little (microwave, maybe?) The dish is supposed to be served warm. Put the whole eggplant on a plate, pour some tahini on and around it on one side and the tomato sauce on the other side (the tomato sauce was never served on the eggplant, although they are eaten together.) The way this is eaten is by forking a piece of eggplant, dragging it through both sauces, putting the whole thing in your mouth and moaning with pleasure.
This will, hopefully, put you in a mellow mood which will help you ask for peace in Jerusalem. This time, however, I recommend asking G-d. The people we keep asking for peace have made their answer very clear. Ask G-d. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem. It's a hauntingly beautiful place that desperately needs some peace and quiet. Sha-aloo Sh'lom Yerushalayim.
But we did not forget, did we? This week, we are in Jerusalem, and let me tell you, no one here forgets anything. From the Arab cab driver who remembers every little insult hurled his way by passing Jews, to the pilgrims standing in line to touch the rock upon which Jesus was crucified, to the Jewish women who sit and cry in front of the one spot at the Kotel tunnels that the archaeologists had determined is located directly in front of the holy-of-hollies. People here have long memories. Thousands of years long.
But the ones who touched our hearts this week were the guides. Young men and women who take people from all over the world around their beloved city and tell about its history with pride, passion and conviction. The guide who took us through the Kotel tunnels had tears in his eyes when he talked about being so close to the holy-of-hollies, yet so impossibly far away from it, since it is located under the dome of the rock mosque. The guide who led us around the city of David must have told the story many, many times and still there was awe in her voice when she told of finding seals inscribed with names of people who are actually mentioned in the bible. And their excitement was contagious. My youngest daughter told me, as we strolled past the Kotel (for the third time this week), after visiting the city of David : "Can you imagine how amazing it would be if Beit HaMikdash was standing?" Can you imagine what a heartbreak it was to explain that the chances for it happening without divine intervention are between zero and nothing? That as long as the mosque is there, we can't even build a succah at the holiest place for Judaism?
In this week's parasha, in D'varim chapter 20, verses 10-13, the Israelites are commanded to always ask for peace before attacking an enemy. If the enemy agrees to peace, OK. But if not; if they make war with you - then, go for it, baby, smite this enemy, mwahaha. But first you must try the "peace talks" route.
Which the Israelis did. Many, many times. Over many, many years. At the cost of many, many lives. The "enemy" keeps resisting. These, btw, are facts; not opinions. Check history if you don't believe me. No matter what accusations the Palestinians put at the feet (or rather, 'hurl at the head') of Israel, the fact remains that Israel always tries for peace and they always refuse. So it seems the time has come for activating some of the Jerusalemite memory and move to the next phase, as described in the bible. This, btw, is an opinion.
Meanwhile, the "simple people" here, try their best to live as normal a life as it is possible to live in a place where every stone is loaded with historical meaning. People like the above mentioned cab driver, the stall merchants in the old city, the tour guides and the cooks and waiters in the city's eateries. Everyone is simply trying to make a living. And in the evenings, when the harsh heat abates, they spill into the streets and sit in the many cafes, little restaurants and bars; most of them outdoors, enjoying the refreshing breeze and the night life; just trying to live as if it is perfectly normal to have signs everywhere directing you to the nearest bomb shelter, soldiers patrolling holy places and guards asking you to open your bags when you enter a store, so you can prove you carry no weapons. Too bad they don't check people's mouths. I know some teenage girls who should register theirs as lethal.
Naturally, we ate a lot in restaurants this week, which is how we were introduced to our new favorite dish: Eggplant "Baladi". Now, when I was a young girl, back in the olden days, the word 'baladi' meant 'homegrown' or 'organic'. Sort of "this was raised by simple farmers on a small farm using no sophisticated modern methods". Nowadays, apparently, it means "smothered in Tahini". It's a dish that represents very well what can happen when Israelis and Palestinians actually cooperate. I'm sure they did not mean to, and it's only in the kitchen, but hey, whatever works, right?
I, being on vacation, and having zero access to a proper kitchen this week, am not a 100% sure how this dish is made. But, I can sort of tell you the 'storyline' of the dish, with ideas and hints, and let you work from there. OK?
Eggplant with Tahini and tomato sauces
So, first of all, you need the type of eggplant that is fat and chunky. It's not exactly black and not exactly purple but a mixture of both. It's also not smooth like the regular eggplants but has some sort of vertical, not very large ridges. You may be able to do this with a regular eggplant that is very fat around but it will have plenty of seeds and taste not so great.
OK. You've got the right eggplant. You will need one per person. You need to get the flesh super soft without charring the skin too badly. This can be done by baking it thoroughly and then peeling carefully. So, put the eggplant in a pan (it's a good idea to spray it first). Make one or two small slits in it. Cover with foil (see if you can make sure the foil does not touch the eggplant.) Bake at 450F for about 20-30 minutes or until a fork can get in easily. Check after the first 20 minutes and every 10 minutes after, until you get a consistency you can imagine eating without any real chewing.
Take it out and let it cool a little. Peel it very carefully, leaving it as whole as you can, leaving the stem intact. You should have a peeled, cooked, whole eggplant, with the stem holding it all together.
Prepare some Tahini (mix sesame paste with enough water to the consistency of stirred yogurt; this requires patient stirring and plenty of faith; add the water slowly.) Spice it up to your liking with salt, pepper, crushed garlic, lemon juice and (optional) chopped parsley.
Next, prepare a tomato sauce. We had this with either a freshly made tomato salsa (quite spicy) or a cooked sauce a little like creamy tomato sauce for pasta, very mild and sweet-like. Both versions are excellent.
Reheat the eggplant a little (microwave, maybe?) The dish is supposed to be served warm. Put the whole eggplant on a plate, pour some tahini on and around it on one side and the tomato sauce on the other side (the tomato sauce was never served on the eggplant, although they are eaten together.) The way this is eaten is by forking a piece of eggplant, dragging it through both sauces, putting the whole thing in your mouth and moaning with pleasure.
This will, hopefully, put you in a mellow mood which will help you ask for peace in Jerusalem. This time, however, I recommend asking G-d. The people we keep asking for peace have made their answer very clear. Ask G-d. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem. It's a hauntingly beautiful place that desperately needs some peace and quiet. Sha-aloo Sh'lom Yerushalayim.
Friday, May 10, 2013
All accounted for
When my daughter went to Europe two summers ago with a group of teenagers, their leaders kept counting them. It became very annoying. Every time they moved, they had to "Do the count". It doesn't take too long. Every kid was assigned a number and had to announce it in the proper order. The kids grumbled and whined (teenagers, you know) but the leaders were very strict about it. Because, as you can imagine, the leaders knew that if anything happened to any one of those kids, we, the parents, will kill them in very painful ways.
When you are in charge of a large group of people, when you are responsible for their safety and well being, one of the things you want to be very diligent about is making sure that you haven't lost any of them along the way.
The Israelites were wandering in a desert. Not the safest place in the world. So, of course, G-d, who was responsible for their safety and well being, was concerned about every aspect of their daily life. And the most basic thing is the answer to the question: "Is everyone present and accounted for?" So G-d made them "Do the count". Because what if someone got lost, or was left behind at the last oasis, or just slipped and fell and is now 3 miles back and can't find the way?
Incidentally, the "Count" was proved to be essential. In a rest stop somewhere in Italy, my daughter came out of the restroom to find that the bus left without her. Luckily, they were doing the count as they drove away and realized she was missing before the bus was too far down the highway. Aren't we glad now that G-d counted the Israelites? According to Ramban, every Jew is important to G-d. So He doesn't want any of us to get lost. I sure hope that this is still true. Sometimes we get lost, don't we? Isn't it nice to think that G-d is always counting us and will come looking for us if we are lost?
My cooking style is not very rigid. I sort of wing it most of the time. But here is a recipe where the most difficult part is to follow the instructions precisely, especially the counting (of minutes, and amounts.)
Majadra
3 cups lentils (use the regular ones you buy at the supermarket)
12 cups water
3 cups rice (I use Basmati but any long grain will do. You can use brown but the texture is different)
1 cup oil plus more for frying
3 tsp coarse (kosher) salt
4-5 large onions, chopped
Start the night before: Soak the lentils in the water and leave for 8-12 hours.
Drain the lentils, reserving 5 and 1/2 cups of the soaking water.
In a very large pot put: lentils, rice, oil, salt and the water you reserved.
Bring to a boil over high heat.
Turn heat to the lowest you can, cover the pot well and cook for exactly 20 minutes. Do not open the lid.
Turn the heat off and leave the pot alone for exactly 20 minutes. Do not open the lid!!!
Meanwhile, fry the chopped onions in a good amount of oil (like you would for frying latkes) until they start to brown.
Using a slotted spoon, scoop the onions out of the oil (do not drain them too well) and transfer to the large pot.
Mix really well. It's not easy to mix so be patient. I usually put the pot on the kitchen floor and kneel next to it to stir. It gives me better leverage and saves some aches and pains in my arms and shoulders.
Serves a LOT. Seriously. This recipe makes enough for at least 20 servings. But don't worry. It keeps very well in the fridge for at least a week. It freezes beautifully and thaws easily. It is great warm, hot or cold. It is vegan (and so parve). It is wonderful as a topping for salad, a side dish or a main course (try topping it with plain yogurt.)
And if you get lost - trust that G-d will come looking for you once He does "The Count".
When you are in charge of a large group of people, when you are responsible for their safety and well being, one of the things you want to be very diligent about is making sure that you haven't lost any of them along the way.
The Israelites were wandering in a desert. Not the safest place in the world. So, of course, G-d, who was responsible for their safety and well being, was concerned about every aspect of their daily life. And the most basic thing is the answer to the question: "Is everyone present and accounted for?" So G-d made them "Do the count". Because what if someone got lost, or was left behind at the last oasis, or just slipped and fell and is now 3 miles back and can't find the way?
Incidentally, the "Count" was proved to be essential. In a rest stop somewhere in Italy, my daughter came out of the restroom to find that the bus left without her. Luckily, they were doing the count as they drove away and realized she was missing before the bus was too far down the highway. Aren't we glad now that G-d counted the Israelites? According to Ramban, every Jew is important to G-d. So He doesn't want any of us to get lost. I sure hope that this is still true. Sometimes we get lost, don't we? Isn't it nice to think that G-d is always counting us and will come looking for us if we are lost?
My cooking style is not very rigid. I sort of wing it most of the time. But here is a recipe where the most difficult part is to follow the instructions precisely, especially the counting (of minutes, and amounts.)
Majadra
3 cups lentils (use the regular ones you buy at the supermarket)
12 cups water
3 cups rice (I use Basmati but any long grain will do. You can use brown but the texture is different)
1 cup oil plus more for frying
3 tsp coarse (kosher) salt
4-5 large onions, chopped
Start the night before: Soak the lentils in the water and leave for 8-12 hours.
Drain the lentils, reserving 5 and 1/2 cups of the soaking water.
In a very large pot put: lentils, rice, oil, salt and the water you reserved.
Bring to a boil over high heat.
Turn heat to the lowest you can, cover the pot well and cook for exactly 20 minutes. Do not open the lid.
Turn the heat off and leave the pot alone for exactly 20 minutes. Do not open the lid!!!
Meanwhile, fry the chopped onions in a good amount of oil (like you would for frying latkes) until they start to brown.
Using a slotted spoon, scoop the onions out of the oil (do not drain them too well) and transfer to the large pot.
Mix really well. It's not easy to mix so be patient. I usually put the pot on the kitchen floor and kneel next to it to stir. It gives me better leverage and saves some aches and pains in my arms and shoulders.
Serves a LOT. Seriously. This recipe makes enough for at least 20 servings. But don't worry. It keeps very well in the fridge for at least a week. It freezes beautifully and thaws easily. It is great warm, hot or cold. It is vegan (and so parve). It is wonderful as a topping for salad, a side dish or a main course (try topping it with plain yogurt.)
And if you get lost - trust that G-d will come looking for you once He does "The Count".
Friday, April 5, 2013
Eek
Here's the thing about forbidden foods: most of them are disgusting anyway, but I wonder if that is simply a psychological conditioning process that helped our ancestors overcome the temptation to eat what was forbidden (though, really, how much effort do you need to put into not eating worms?) Take the worst offender: Mention a plate of bacon to a devout Jew and he or she will probably gag. And yet most of the world considers bacon an excellent and very yummy food. So it's not a natural human response but a learned reflex. By the same token, if you mention dog meat to anyone in the western world, they will not only gag but get angry at the very idea of eating Lassie. But in the far east you can get this dish at any street corner. So I am forced to conclude that food is more in our minds than in our metabolism.
Now why am I discussing disgusting foods? Because in VaYikra chapter 11, verse 22 it says that Jews can eat the arbeh. You know, the eighth plague. A delicacy, I'm sure.
It makes me shudder to think just how hungry one needs to be in order to eat insects. Oy. And yet this is a kosher food. Maybe G-d knew that there will be times when food will be so scarce that we will have to eat the arbeh or go hungry.
My sister and her family celebrated their seder in the desert. They built a fire and baked their own matzah (she said it's much harder to do this within the specified time limit than she imagined) and sprawled on the soft dunes under a succah made of date palm's fronds and a canopy of a million stars and the old story became alive for them that night. My oldest child was extremely jealous. She thought we were the cat's pajamas because we had a Harry Potter themed seder and then her cousins trumped her. There is no pleasing teenagers. But then, we all know that.
Anyway, on their way to the desert, their car was coated with yellow insects. You guessed it. Arbeh. Israel has been plagued by the eighth plague this past month and apparently they really are numerous. It lent an extra layer to the seder, literally. Since most of her family is vegetarian, they avoided eating the pests (I mean the insects, not my niece and nephews...). And, luckily for the residents of Israel, today we have ways and means of overcoming the devastation that locusts bring to the crops (thereby creating the need for humans to eat them).
So now you think I am going to give a recipe for locusts. Not quite. What is green, a bit elongated, about the size of a locust and has the population divided into two clear groups about its texture and flavor? Okra. I hate okra. Many people do. But hubby, his family and many others absolutely adore it. So out of the goodness of my heart, I will share a simple recipe for okra and you are free to gag or gobble.
Okra stew
1 pound okra (fresh or frozen - you will need to cook the fresh a little longer)
3 Tbs vegetable oil
20 stalks of green garlic (this is fresh young garlic. If you can't find it substitute 12-15 scallions and 3-4 crushed garlic cloves)
4 ripe tomatoes, coarsely grated
1 Tbs tomato paste
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
Juice of one medium lemon
1 tsp sugar
4-5 cups water
5 stalks of fresh mint, chopped (you can use another fresh herb instead but it won't taste as perky)
(2 pounds cubed meat - optional, see note at the end)
Soak the okra in water for 20 minutes. Drain and trim ends.
In a wide pot heat oil and cook garlic, tomatoes and tomato paste for a minute or two, stirring constantly.
Add salt, pepper, sugar , lemon juice and water. Bring to a boil.
Add okra, stir, reduce heat to low and cook, partially covered for about half an hour or until okra is soft enough to be easily pierced with fork.
Sprinkle with mint and serve warm.
Note: this is fine as is but can be served as main dish if you add the meat (beef, lamb or chicken). You will need to first cook the meat by itself for about an hour (45 minutes for chicken), covered in water. Then add to tomato sauce when you add the okra and continue as above.
With the meat it will serve 8 people. As a vegetarian side dish it will serve 10.
As I said, food is yummy or disgusting more by our early conditioning than by its real flavor, texture or nutritional value.
And yet. Bugs? really? Eek.
Now why am I discussing disgusting foods? Because in VaYikra chapter 11, verse 22 it says that Jews can eat the arbeh. You know, the eighth plague. A delicacy, I'm sure.
It makes me shudder to think just how hungry one needs to be in order to eat insects. Oy. And yet this is a kosher food. Maybe G-d knew that there will be times when food will be so scarce that we will have to eat the arbeh or go hungry.
My sister and her family celebrated their seder in the desert. They built a fire and baked their own matzah (she said it's much harder to do this within the specified time limit than she imagined) and sprawled on the soft dunes under a succah made of date palm's fronds and a canopy of a million stars and the old story became alive for them that night. My oldest child was extremely jealous. She thought we were the cat's pajamas because we had a Harry Potter themed seder and then her cousins trumped her. There is no pleasing teenagers. But then, we all know that.
Anyway, on their way to the desert, their car was coated with yellow insects. You guessed it. Arbeh. Israel has been plagued by the eighth plague this past month and apparently they really are numerous. It lent an extra layer to the seder, literally. Since most of her family is vegetarian, they avoided eating the pests (I mean the insects, not my niece and nephews...). And, luckily for the residents of Israel, today we have ways and means of overcoming the devastation that locusts bring to the crops (thereby creating the need for humans to eat them).
So now you think I am going to give a recipe for locusts. Not quite. What is green, a bit elongated, about the size of a locust and has the population divided into two clear groups about its texture and flavor? Okra. I hate okra. Many people do. But hubby, his family and many others absolutely adore it. So out of the goodness of my heart, I will share a simple recipe for okra and you are free to gag or gobble.
Okra stew
1 pound okra (fresh or frozen - you will need to cook the fresh a little longer)
3 Tbs vegetable oil
20 stalks of green garlic (this is fresh young garlic. If you can't find it substitute 12-15 scallions and 3-4 crushed garlic cloves)
4 ripe tomatoes, coarsely grated
1 Tbs tomato paste
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
Juice of one medium lemon
1 tsp sugar
4-5 cups water
5 stalks of fresh mint, chopped (you can use another fresh herb instead but it won't taste as perky)
(2 pounds cubed meat - optional, see note at the end)
Soak the okra in water for 20 minutes. Drain and trim ends.
In a wide pot heat oil and cook garlic, tomatoes and tomato paste for a minute or two, stirring constantly.
Add salt, pepper, sugar , lemon juice and water. Bring to a boil.
Add okra, stir, reduce heat to low and cook, partially covered for about half an hour or until okra is soft enough to be easily pierced with fork.
Sprinkle with mint and serve warm.
Note: this is fine as is but can be served as main dish if you add the meat (beef, lamb or chicken). You will need to first cook the meat by itself for about an hour (45 minutes for chicken), covered in water. Then add to tomato sauce when you add the okra and continue as above.
With the meat it will serve 8 people. As a vegetarian side dish it will serve 10.
As I said, food is yummy or disgusting more by our early conditioning than by its real flavor, texture or nutritional value.
And yet. Bugs? really? Eek.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Huh?
Parashat Tzav is very confusing. There are so many types of sacrifices. And each has its own sub categories. And each has detailed and precise steps to it. I am beginning to feel sorry for the Kohanim. Poor men. It must have taken 3 years of study just to figure out the simple, everyday process. Never mind the holiday stuff. I suppose that's why the high priest was held in such esteem. The man knew so much he could do the Yom Kippur stuff while fasting. Awesome.
Anyway, for us simple mortals, just reading the parasha can result in a migraine. Maybe I'll try a flow chart.... Next year, G-d willing.
But Tzav was the parasha of my youngest's Bat Mitzva and so I have a fondness for it. Also, it speaks to me because there are a lot of meat and grains being cooked. Some to be eaten by the kohanim, some to be eaten by the people, some to be totally burned on the altar. And it's all, as I said, very confusing.
Incidentally, I have finally managed to get my kubbeh the way we like it and that's a very confusing, complicated recipe, too. So it fits. I think.
The great thing about this is that it cleaned out both the pantry and the freezer of non-Pesach stuff. Just in time for Pesach. (Note to my friend Debbie: I know, I know, I should have posted this earlier so you could have utilized it on time. Soooorrrry)
Now, for this recipe you need to buy something called bulgur (the spelling might be different in your store). In Hebrew, for some reason, it is called burgul. Same thing. This is a wheat product. The closest I can describe it is "wheat groats". And here is the important part: there are three or four levels of 'grind' available. You'll need the extra fine one. Best place to look for it is Israeli stores. Middle Eastern ones carry it, too (like Corrado's in Paterson) but the hechsher is iffy (as in: I am not sure if it has hechsher). So first obtain this and get some farina as well (this is sort of like cream of wheat)
Got everything? Let's cook.
Iraqi Kubbeh
Dough:
2 1/4 cups extra fine bulgur, soaked for one hour in plenty of water than drained (use very fine sieve) and extra water squeezed out.
2 cups farina
2-3 Tbs olive oil
1 egg
1 tsp turmeric
3/4 -1 tsp salt
Filling:
1/4 cup lightly toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup coarsely chopped and lightly roasted walnuts
5 Tbs vegetable or olive oil
1 pound ground meat (beef, lamb, turkey or a mix)
Leaves from 8 stems of parsley, chopped
1 tsp black pepper
1 tsp hot or smoked paprika
1/2 tsp cinnamon
Soup:
2 medium beets, peeled and cubed
1 small butternut squash, peeled and cubed (or any other kind of squash)
1 small onion, chopped
2 Tbs olive oil
6-10 cups water (or broth if you want a richer flavor)
1 Tbs sugar
Juice from 1 1/2 lemons (fresh juice, please)
1 Tbs chicken bullion (the Israeli brands are very good and you can get the kind without MSG)
1 tsp hot paprika
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp turmeric
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp coriander
1. Mix all filling ingredients and put in the fridge for 30 minutes.
2. After draining and squeezing the bulghur, combine it with the rest of the dough ingredients (start with the smaller amounts and add as needed). Knead it for a while until you have a mix that you can work with. You will need to make balls from it and then fill them so the mixture needs to hold together but be flexible enough to be shaped. It takes some practice to get the right consistency.
3. Form dough into balls that are slightly smaller than tennis balls. Flatten each ball in the palm of your hand so it form a nest.
4. Put about 2-3 teaspoons of filling in the 'nest' and close it to form a ball. Important: this is a frustrating step as the dough will insist on either not sticking, tearing or mixing with the meat. Again, it takes practice. The goal is to form filled balls where the filling is completely engulfed in the dough, but the walls of the ball are not so thick that the filling gets lost in the dough. Keep wetting your palms. It helps in the shaping of the dough.
5. Line up the filled balls on a platter. They can wait a little until you make the soup. You will have about 15-22 balls, depending on individual sizes, your technique and so on.
6. In a very wide, quite deep pot (I suppose I mean 'dutch oven'), saute the onion in oil until slightly browned. Add spices and mix for a minute over medium heat. Add beets and squash. Mix to coat the veggies with the spices. Add 6 cups of water or broth and bring to a boil.
7. Carefully add filled balls, one by one, gently lowering each into the boiling broth. Add liquids as needed to cover the balls. Return to boil.
8. Lower heat to low. Cook, partially covered for 45-60 minutes, until vegetables are soft and the kubbeh (that's the proper name for the filled balls of meat and dough) are a nice pinkish color. Turn kubbeh over halfway through cooking. Keep adding liquids to keep the kubbeh covered at least 3/4 of the way.
Serving size: 2 kubbeh served with some of the liquid and veggies.
Warning: This is not nearly as good the next day. Unfortunately it makes a lot so you'd better practice on smaller amounts and make the whole thing only for a crowd.
And: you may have plenty of filling leftover (depending on how well you can stuff the kubbeh without them tearing apart). If you add some binder (breadcrumbs, leftover cooked rice, flour, even ground potatoes) they make excellent meat patties. Just fry them in more oil than you would regular patties.
And if you think this recipe is complicated, just go and read parashat Tzav.
Anyway, for us simple mortals, just reading the parasha can result in a migraine. Maybe I'll try a flow chart.... Next year, G-d willing.
But Tzav was the parasha of my youngest's Bat Mitzva and so I have a fondness for it. Also, it speaks to me because there are a lot of meat and grains being cooked. Some to be eaten by the kohanim, some to be eaten by the people, some to be totally burned on the altar. And it's all, as I said, very confusing.
Incidentally, I have finally managed to get my kubbeh the way we like it and that's a very confusing, complicated recipe, too. So it fits. I think.
The great thing about this is that it cleaned out both the pantry and the freezer of non-Pesach stuff. Just in time for Pesach. (Note to my friend Debbie: I know, I know, I should have posted this earlier so you could have utilized it on time. Soooorrrry)
Now, for this recipe you need to buy something called bulgur (the spelling might be different in your store). In Hebrew, for some reason, it is called burgul. Same thing. This is a wheat product. The closest I can describe it is "wheat groats". And here is the important part: there are three or four levels of 'grind' available. You'll need the extra fine one. Best place to look for it is Israeli stores. Middle Eastern ones carry it, too (like Corrado's in Paterson) but the hechsher is iffy (as in: I am not sure if it has hechsher). So first obtain this and get some farina as well (this is sort of like cream of wheat)
Got everything? Let's cook.
Iraqi Kubbeh
Dough:
2 1/4 cups extra fine bulgur, soaked for one hour in plenty of water than drained (use very fine sieve) and extra water squeezed out.
2 cups farina
2-3 Tbs olive oil
1 egg
1 tsp turmeric
3/4 -1 tsp salt
Filling:
1/4 cup lightly toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup coarsely chopped and lightly roasted walnuts
5 Tbs vegetable or olive oil
1 pound ground meat (beef, lamb, turkey or a mix)
Leaves from 8 stems of parsley, chopped
1 tsp black pepper
1 tsp hot or smoked paprika
1/2 tsp cinnamon
Soup:
2 medium beets, peeled and cubed
1 small butternut squash, peeled and cubed (or any other kind of squash)
1 small onion, chopped
2 Tbs olive oil
6-10 cups water (or broth if you want a richer flavor)
1 Tbs sugar
Juice from 1 1/2 lemons (fresh juice, please)
1 Tbs chicken bullion (the Israeli brands are very good and you can get the kind without MSG)
1 tsp hot paprika
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp turmeric
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp coriander
1. Mix all filling ingredients and put in the fridge for 30 minutes.
2. After draining and squeezing the bulghur, combine it with the rest of the dough ingredients (start with the smaller amounts and add as needed). Knead it for a while until you have a mix that you can work with. You will need to make balls from it and then fill them so the mixture needs to hold together but be flexible enough to be shaped. It takes some practice to get the right consistency.
3. Form dough into balls that are slightly smaller than tennis balls. Flatten each ball in the palm of your hand so it form a nest.
4. Put about 2-3 teaspoons of filling in the 'nest' and close it to form a ball. Important: this is a frustrating step as the dough will insist on either not sticking, tearing or mixing with the meat. Again, it takes practice. The goal is to form filled balls where the filling is completely engulfed in the dough, but the walls of the ball are not so thick that the filling gets lost in the dough. Keep wetting your palms. It helps in the shaping of the dough.
5. Line up the filled balls on a platter. They can wait a little until you make the soup. You will have about 15-22 balls, depending on individual sizes, your technique and so on.
6. In a very wide, quite deep pot (I suppose I mean 'dutch oven'), saute the onion in oil until slightly browned. Add spices and mix for a minute over medium heat. Add beets and squash. Mix to coat the veggies with the spices. Add 6 cups of water or broth and bring to a boil.
7. Carefully add filled balls, one by one, gently lowering each into the boiling broth. Add liquids as needed to cover the balls. Return to boil.
8. Lower heat to low. Cook, partially covered for 45-60 minutes, until vegetables are soft and the kubbeh (that's the proper name for the filled balls of meat and dough) are a nice pinkish color. Turn kubbeh over halfway through cooking. Keep adding liquids to keep the kubbeh covered at least 3/4 of the way.
Serving size: 2 kubbeh served with some of the liquid and veggies.
Warning: This is not nearly as good the next day. Unfortunately it makes a lot so you'd better practice on smaller amounts and make the whole thing only for a crowd.
And: you may have plenty of filling leftover (depending on how well you can stuff the kubbeh without them tearing apart). If you add some binder (breadcrumbs, leftover cooked rice, flour, even ground potatoes) they make excellent meat patties. Just fry them in more oil than you would regular patties.
And if you think this recipe is complicated, just go and read parashat Tzav.
Friday, December 14, 2012
In case of a natural disaster
It's very rare, but it does happen. Sometimes, children actually learn from their parents' example. Take Yosef. Long ago, his father, returning to Kna'an and worried sick about the reception he was likely to get from the older brother he had so thoroughly wronged, had used layer upon layer of preparations for an unavoidable (he thought) disaster. Ya'akov sent scouts to find out what's going on. He sent gifts. In increments. He sent messages. He divided his camp to increase chances of survival. He prayed. He tried everything he could think of.
Luckily for Ya'akov, none of it was at all necessary. It seems Esav was perfectly happy to forgive and forget. Phew.
Now, years later, in a faraway land, in a bizarre twist of fate, Ya'akov's beloved son is facing a danger brought upon him because of his older brothers' anger. How's that for irony? But Yosef, whether because of his genes or his keen observation powers as a child in Ya'akov's camp, knows something about getting ready for a disaster. So he offers the king a plan. Brilliant in its simplicity. One of those "Now, why didn't I think of that?" ideas.
There will be seven years of famine. True. But, since we know about it ahead of time, courtesy of the king's dream, we are not helpless. To help us face this natural disaster we can make preparations. All kinds of preparations.
For example:
If the weather center says there's a dangerous hurricane on the way, don't just poo-poo it. Don't freeze in fright. Go and get ready. Get the deck furniture into the garage, tie down the garbage cans, fill large containers with water, buy extra candles or batteries, store up on non perishables, fill up the car with gas and get some extra, check out the Hybrogen www.facebook.com/Hybrogen so you won't have to rely on loud, gas-guzzling generators.
And pray. Because many people forget that part in their rush to get ready. Remind G-d of His promises and of how you have been doing your part so this is a great time for Him to do His. Ask for what you want and what you need. And when it's all over and you and your family are (at least relatively) safe - remember to thank G-d. It's just good manners.
Feeding my family during hurricane Sandy reminded me of the weeks before Pesach when you eat your way through the freezer. Thanks to genius hubby, our refrigerator kept working, but we couldn't go the stores and we were limited to stove-top cooking only. No complaints. At least we had a house, in which to keep our stove, on which we cooked:
Shwarma flavored chicken thighs
Shwarma is an Israeli dish of slow roasted lamb (or turkey), sliced and served in pita. It's really much, much better than it sounds. Just ask anyone who has ever had it. Shwarma is also what you would call the special seasoning one puts on the meat to make it taste like Shwarma. You can buy the mix in Israeli stores under the name "Seasoning for Shwarma". In case of a hurricane - you can make a mix of your own (which may not turn out exactly the same, but so what) by mixing cumin, turmeric, paprika, coriander, salt and pepper (2 parts cumin to one part from everything else, except the salt and pepper to taste and if you want to get fancy, add a pinch of cinnamon.)
I used skinless, boneless thighs. This will work just as well with other skinless boneless parts (even breast) and extremely well with turkey. My sister in law, Dorita, even makes a whole chicken spiced with this mix and baked in a baking bag with onions and potatoes. Yum. But that's for non emergency times, because I don't know about you, but my oven did not work during Sandy (or rather, it could have but that would have drained the Hybrogen too quickly and I figured we can manage with just the stove.)
Anyway.
4 skinless boneless chicken thighs.
One large onion.
1-2 Tbs Shwarma seasoning.
1-2 Tbs vegetable oil.
Cut the meat into chunks about 1 1/2 inches square (it won't be square, you know, but that's the size you're aiming for).
Sprinkle the seasoning on it and mix really well. You want the seasoning on the meat and not left in the bowl, so use your fingers, if necessary, to work it in.
Slice the onion thinly (or chop, whatever you like).
Heat the oil in a large pan over medium high heat. Add the onion and cook for a few minutes until softened (no need to brown it but you can if you like.)
Add the seasoned meat and cook, stirring frequently, until cooked through (5-7 minutes if you cook it over medium high heat that is more high than medium.)
Serve with the pitas you had to defrost because the freezer did not work. I served it with rice because my freezer was just fine thanks to the Hybrogen (really, check it out and tell everyone you know so they will not be caught unprepared next time.)
As you can see, I was going for really simple meals. Because you don't do gourmet food in an emergency situation. If you remember, we all found out about going back to basics during that week. Well, even Yosef did not suggest they should store up truffles and Cabernet. He said they should store up grains. Sometimes, the best things in life are simple pleasures.
Luckily for Ya'akov, none of it was at all necessary. It seems Esav was perfectly happy to forgive and forget. Phew.
Now, years later, in a faraway land, in a bizarre twist of fate, Ya'akov's beloved son is facing a danger brought upon him because of his older brothers' anger. How's that for irony? But Yosef, whether because of his genes or his keen observation powers as a child in Ya'akov's camp, knows something about getting ready for a disaster. So he offers the king a plan. Brilliant in its simplicity. One of those "Now, why didn't I think of that?" ideas.
There will be seven years of famine. True. But, since we know about it ahead of time, courtesy of the king's dream, we are not helpless. To help us face this natural disaster we can make preparations. All kinds of preparations.
For example:
If the weather center says there's a dangerous hurricane on the way, don't just poo-poo it. Don't freeze in fright. Go and get ready. Get the deck furniture into the garage, tie down the garbage cans, fill large containers with water, buy extra candles or batteries, store up on non perishables, fill up the car with gas and get some extra, check out the Hybrogen www.facebook.com/Hybrogen so you won't have to rely on loud, gas-guzzling generators.
And pray. Because many people forget that part in their rush to get ready. Remind G-d of His promises and of how you have been doing your part so this is a great time for Him to do His. Ask for what you want and what you need. And when it's all over and you and your family are (at least relatively) safe - remember to thank G-d. It's just good manners.
Feeding my family during hurricane Sandy reminded me of the weeks before Pesach when you eat your way through the freezer. Thanks to genius hubby, our refrigerator kept working, but we couldn't go the stores and we were limited to stove-top cooking only. No complaints. At least we had a house, in which to keep our stove, on which we cooked:
Shwarma flavored chicken thighs
Shwarma is an Israeli dish of slow roasted lamb (or turkey), sliced and served in pita. It's really much, much better than it sounds. Just ask anyone who has ever had it. Shwarma is also what you would call the special seasoning one puts on the meat to make it taste like Shwarma. You can buy the mix in Israeli stores under the name "Seasoning for Shwarma". In case of a hurricane - you can make a mix of your own (which may not turn out exactly the same, but so what) by mixing cumin, turmeric, paprika, coriander, salt and pepper (2 parts cumin to one part from everything else, except the salt and pepper to taste and if you want to get fancy, add a pinch of cinnamon.)
I used skinless, boneless thighs. This will work just as well with other skinless boneless parts (even breast) and extremely well with turkey. My sister in law, Dorita, even makes a whole chicken spiced with this mix and baked in a baking bag with onions and potatoes. Yum. But that's for non emergency times, because I don't know about you, but my oven did not work during Sandy (or rather, it could have but that would have drained the Hybrogen too quickly and I figured we can manage with just the stove.)
Anyway.
4 skinless boneless chicken thighs.
One large onion.
1-2 Tbs Shwarma seasoning.
1-2 Tbs vegetable oil.
Cut the meat into chunks about 1 1/2 inches square (it won't be square, you know, but that's the size you're aiming for).
Sprinkle the seasoning on it and mix really well. You want the seasoning on the meat and not left in the bowl, so use your fingers, if necessary, to work it in.
Slice the onion thinly (or chop, whatever you like).
Heat the oil in a large pan over medium high heat. Add the onion and cook for a few minutes until softened (no need to brown it but you can if you like.)
Add the seasoned meat and cook, stirring frequently, until cooked through (5-7 minutes if you cook it over medium high heat that is more high than medium.)
Serve with the pitas you had to defrost because the freezer did not work. I served it with rice because my freezer was just fine thanks to the Hybrogen (really, check it out and tell everyone you know so they will not be caught unprepared next time.)
As you can see, I was going for really simple meals. Because you don't do gourmet food in an emergency situation. If you remember, we all found out about going back to basics during that week. Well, even Yosef did not suggest they should store up truffles and Cabernet. He said they should store up grains. Sometimes, the best things in life are simple pleasures.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Of course he's heavy; He's my brother
I happen to know something about spoiled rotten younger brothers. Both hubby and I are the oldest in our families.
My brother was The Son. He was so spoiled that I had to get married just so I could get out of making his bed for him (boy was 16 at the time.) Not his fault, of course. I blame my parents (always and for everything; it's what parents are for, after all.)
Hubby's brother, Andy, was so spoiled that my MIL learned to cook and clean with one hand, the other being constantly occupied by a screaming babe.
But being spoiled is one thing. You can't help how your parents treat you or your siblings. After all, you got your brains from them so you shouldn't be surprised by their actions. The trouble starts when the spoiled brat grows up and continues to think the sun rises and sets for his sake.
Andy is at least polite enough to pretend he has some respect for his big brother. My brother doesn't even bother to hide his feelings of superiority. And the worst part? He's usually (OK, OK, always, darn it) right.
So it is with great sympathy that I read this week's parasha. Yosef really is a huge pain in the neck. And it doesn't help that it turns out later (spoiler alert) that he was totally right and everything he dreamed about came true. That's just adding insult to injury.
He was a spoiled brat. He was a show-off. And he was a pain in the tuchis. But he was right. Unfortunately for him, in order to be proven right, he had to be sold into slavery, exiled to Egypt and suffer, suffer, suffer. Which just goes to show that I should have read the bible more often as a teenager. Could have used some ideas of how to deal with the pest back then (too late now, he's taller than me and has a wife to protect him.)
Bubba doesn't like most foodstuffs. He won't eat fish (or even be in a house where fish was cooked during the previous week), mushrooms, eggplants, zucchini or any soup. This is a partial list as it keeps changing with the weather. One of the foods that he doesn't eat is celery, which makes cooking a bit difficult as celery is used as a base for many meat dishes, along with onions and carrots. And the beast will not eat a dish which was acquainted with celery even if it was chopped real small and cooked down to nothing.
So, as an act of (pathetic) revenge on all annoying little brothers, here is a dish where celery (a very healthy vegetable) is a star. This is a variation on an Iranian dish. I omitted the meat because it's really not that necessary (feel free to add pieces of chicken or cubes of stew meat to this if you wish). See note at the end regarding the vegetable mix.
Celery stew
1/2 cup vegetable oil
3 cups chopped onion (I used 1 large onion and 1 medium onion)
1/2 pickled lemon, thinly sliced (or 2-3 Persian dried limes)
2 celery hearts, sliced into 1 inch long chunks (about 7 cups)
2 1/2 oz package of AASAN Dehydrated Vegetables for Sabzi Polo (see note)
1 tsp salt
6 cups water
1/2 tsp black pepper
1. Soak dried vegetables in warm water to cover for one hour. Carefully strain through cheesecloth or coffee filters. Squeeze gently.
2.Saute onions in oil over medium high heat until soft.
3. Add pickled lemon and cook one minute (if using dried limes, add them at step 4)
4. Add celery and drained vegetables, salt, pepper, and water. Bring to a boil.
5. Cook over low heat, partially covered for half an hour or until the celery is soft but not falling apart. Add salt if necessary, to taste.
This is best served over basmati rice (see my post "Pierced ears" of 2/17/12) and will serve 10-12 people.
Note: AASAN Dehydrated vegetables are Iranian vegetables that are ready to cook. They can be found in Middle Eastern stores (not necessarily Iranian, try Indian, Syrian, Lebanese, etc.) They have a hechsher which I will try to describe (the letters RCC inside the letter K) and which was approved by my frummie sister in law. Use your judgement. Even though this dish is not Sabzi Polo, this is the mix I used (they have many other mixes) and it worked beautifully. I think other mixes may work too - you may have to explain what you are planning to cook and rely on help from the shopkeeper.
Dried Persian limes can be found in similar stores. I don't know about hechsher. I use home made pickled ones (see: "Harvest time" 10/5/12). In a pinch, just add lemon juice to taste (start with 1/4 cup) at the end of cooking. Won't taste the same, though.
And if all else fails, I understand the Yishmaelites are still in the market for slaves. Arrogant, pesky young brothers - beware.
My brother was The Son. He was so spoiled that I had to get married just so I could get out of making his bed for him (boy was 16 at the time.) Not his fault, of course. I blame my parents (always and for everything; it's what parents are for, after all.)
Hubby's brother, Andy, was so spoiled that my MIL learned to cook and clean with one hand, the other being constantly occupied by a screaming babe.
But being spoiled is one thing. You can't help how your parents treat you or your siblings. After all, you got your brains from them so you shouldn't be surprised by their actions. The trouble starts when the spoiled brat grows up and continues to think the sun rises and sets for his sake.
Andy is at least polite enough to pretend he has some respect for his big brother. My brother doesn't even bother to hide his feelings of superiority. And the worst part? He's usually (OK, OK, always, darn it) right.
So it is with great sympathy that I read this week's parasha. Yosef really is a huge pain in the neck. And it doesn't help that it turns out later (spoiler alert) that he was totally right and everything he dreamed about came true. That's just adding insult to injury.
He was a spoiled brat. He was a show-off. And he was a pain in the tuchis. But he was right. Unfortunately for him, in order to be proven right, he had to be sold into slavery, exiled to Egypt and suffer, suffer, suffer. Which just goes to show that I should have read the bible more often as a teenager. Could have used some ideas of how to deal with the pest back then (too late now, he's taller than me and has a wife to protect him.)
Bubba doesn't like most foodstuffs. He won't eat fish (or even be in a house where fish was cooked during the previous week), mushrooms, eggplants, zucchini or any soup. This is a partial list as it keeps changing with the weather. One of the foods that he doesn't eat is celery, which makes cooking a bit difficult as celery is used as a base for many meat dishes, along with onions and carrots. And the beast will not eat a dish which was acquainted with celery even if it was chopped real small and cooked down to nothing.
So, as an act of (pathetic) revenge on all annoying little brothers, here is a dish where celery (a very healthy vegetable) is a star. This is a variation on an Iranian dish. I omitted the meat because it's really not that necessary (feel free to add pieces of chicken or cubes of stew meat to this if you wish). See note at the end regarding the vegetable mix.
Celery stew
1/2 cup vegetable oil
3 cups chopped onion (I used 1 large onion and 1 medium onion)
1/2 pickled lemon, thinly sliced (or 2-3 Persian dried limes)
2 celery hearts, sliced into 1 inch long chunks (about 7 cups)
2 1/2 oz package of AASAN Dehydrated Vegetables for Sabzi Polo (see note)
1 tsp salt
6 cups water
1/2 tsp black pepper
1. Soak dried vegetables in warm water to cover for one hour. Carefully strain through cheesecloth or coffee filters. Squeeze gently.
2.Saute onions in oil over medium high heat until soft.
3. Add pickled lemon and cook one minute (if using dried limes, add them at step 4)
4. Add celery and drained vegetables, salt, pepper, and water. Bring to a boil.
5. Cook over low heat, partially covered for half an hour or until the celery is soft but not falling apart. Add salt if necessary, to taste.
This is best served over basmati rice (see my post "Pierced ears" of 2/17/12) and will serve 10-12 people.
Note: AASAN Dehydrated vegetables are Iranian vegetables that are ready to cook. They can be found in Middle Eastern stores (not necessarily Iranian, try Indian, Syrian, Lebanese, etc.) They have a hechsher which I will try to describe (the letters RCC inside the letter K) and which was approved by my frummie sister in law. Use your judgement. Even though this dish is not Sabzi Polo, this is the mix I used (they have many other mixes) and it worked beautifully. I think other mixes may work too - you may have to explain what you are planning to cook and rely on help from the shopkeeper.
Dried Persian limes can be found in similar stores. I don't know about hechsher. I use home made pickled ones (see: "Harvest time" 10/5/12). In a pinch, just add lemon juice to taste (start with 1/4 cup) at the end of cooking. Won't taste the same, though.
And if all else fails, I understand the Yishmaelites are still in the market for slaves. Arrogant, pesky young brothers - beware.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Seeing red
So this guy was sitting near the cooking fire at camp, working on a great dish he had just invented:
2 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
2 medium onions, diced
1 fresh hot pepper (the light green kind) seeded and thinly sliced
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp turmeric
1 tsp coarse salt (or kosher salt)
1/2 tsp mustard powder
1/4 tsp black pepper
6 garlic cloves
1 pickled lemon
2 cans (14 1/2 oz each) diced tomatoes
14 oz water (measure this by pouring water into one of the empty cans)
1 can (6 oz) tomato paste
1/2 cup brown lentils, cooked (measured before cooking)
1/2 cup red lentils, cooked (measured before cooking)
6 leaves of fresh sage (Do NOT use dry. If you don't have fresh, skip this part)
2 tsp fresh thyme leaves (Do NOT use dry. If you don't have fresh, skip this part)
Cook onions in oil over medium-low heat in a covered pot, stirring occasionally.
Meanwhile, in a food processor, process garlic, pickled lemon (remove pits first)
and the liquid from the diced tomatoes until you have a wet paste.
When onions are very soft (about 10-15 minutes) increase heat to medium-high and add hot pepper. Cook one minute. Add all the spices except salt. Stir and cook another minute.
Add garlic-lemon paste, stir well and cook another minute.
Add diced tomatoes, tomato paste and water. Stir well, reaching all the way to the bottom of the pot.
Add salt. Bring to a gentle boil.
Cook, covered, over medium low heat, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes.
Add lentils and fresh herbs. Stir well. Cook 15 minutes more.
Makes 5-6 servings.
Now, granted, some of the ingredients in that guy's recipe (not to mention some of the tools) probably were not available at the time he was cooking it but why spoil a great story with petty details?
OK. So he is cooking up a storm and here comes his (slightly older) brother, tired, sweaty, muddy and mad as a hornet. Poor guy spent the whole day running around hill and dale and found not one animal considerate enough to be willing to die so as to serve as his dinner. The man was starving. And as he walks into camp, he smells this heavenly stew. Salivating, he approaches the cooking fire and, glory be, it is his little brother cooking something that looks mighty good.
Says the hunter "Brother, can you spare a bowl? On second thought, I'll take the whole pot, if you can spare it"
"W-e-l-l," says the cook, "I dunno. I've been spendin' all morning slaving over this here pot o' stew and now you want me to just hand it over? What's in it for me?"
"What do you want for it?" asks the hunter
The cook scratches his head, thinking. "I'll take your best tent, your first wife and 80% of your flocks"
"Say what?" growls the hunter "Look, buster, this pot ain't got but two or three bowl-fulls in it. You're asking for too much"
The cook shrugs "Fine, how about handing over your birthright instead?"
"Birthright? What good will a birthright do me if I am to drop dead in a minute? I came here starving and then you keep me talking about crazy high prices and all. Take the danged birthright and let me have some chow, will ya?"
And so a deal was struck. Showing the danger of thinking you are "starving" when really you're just a bit hungry. There really are starving people in the world. Esav was not one of them that day and mistaking a grumbling tummy for imminent death had cost him (and his brother) great distress down the line.
On the other hand, while this recipe really smells and tastes enticing enough to trick your older siblings into giving you their birth right, do you really want to be the firstborn? Name one firstborn in the bible that came to a happy ending.
Sigh.
(As you may have guessed, I am a firstborn, and I sure wish one of my siblings would take it off my hands)
Friday, October 26, 2012
Walkabout
When a parasha is called "Get going", you assume there will be lots of moving around. And there certainly is plenty of walking in this week's parasha.
Avraham has ants in his pants. The man cannot sit still for a second. From the moment we meet him for the first time he is already on the move. And he keeps moving all through the parasha. It's almost as if G-d finally came up with circumcision as a strategy to keep Avraham in one place for more than a few days, so He can come visit (next parasha, spoiler alert) with an important message.
Where is the man going? Everywhere. The original wandering Jew. And everywhere he goes, he has a profound effect on the people he meets and even on the lands he passes through.
What does Avraham bring along with him? A new idea. A new religion. A new philosophy.
We don't really hear about the people he had influenced except in a roundabout way. We know he is gaining fame as a rich person, a warrior (when did that happen? he usually avoids conflict like the plague), a fair person, a righteous person.
The people of the Levant has never seen such a thing. They are used to hardy nomads. And desert dwellers certainly have their own code of honor; but Avraham had a higher authority to back up his code.
We know he was a great host. So we can imagine he usually had guests for dinner. And after everyone ate their fill, you know they all sat around the fire (leaving it to the women to do the dishes, as usual) and shmoozed. Even if the word shmooze was not invented yet, they did shmooze. People told stories, asked questions, gossiped, exchanged information. And surely some of them asked the following question: "Reb Avaraham, we have heard about you. Your reputation spreads far and wide. They say you are against child sacrifice. Can you explain why that is so? I mean, without child sacrifice, the crops will surely fail, no? Do you wish for people to starve?" (BTW, I used child sacrifice as an example; you can insert any pagan rite you prefer instead.)
And Avraham would explain, talking in a quiet, measured voice, long into the night. About the one and only G-d, about the sacredness of life, about inner contemplation and striving to be closer to the creator. And people listened. Not everyone and not everywhere. But little by little Avraham and Sarah "made souls" - talked people into being better and doing better and living a better, more moral life.
Among the dishes served around the fire, all through their wanderings around the Levant, the following dish would have been a staple. It requires no cooking, it uses ingredients that are widespread in the area (even if not here in the USA), it's quick to put together, it doesn't require refrigeration and it's extremely refreshing in the desert heat.
It's called tabbouleh and this is one version of it:
Tabbouleh
1 cup medium grind bulghur (see note)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
Juice from 2 large lemons (do not use bottled juice)
Salt to taste
6-7 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup mint leaves, thinly sliced
1 large tomato, cubed (1/2 inch cubes)
3 cups parsley leaves, thinly sliced (see note)
Rinse bulghur in plenty of fresh water, changing water a few times.
Cover with fresh water and let rest 30 minutes.
Drain well and squeeze out (using your hands, over a strainer) most of the water
Mix garlic, lemon juice and a bit of salt. Add oil and mix.
Add tomato.
Add bulghur and mix.
Add mint and parsley. Mix well.
Serve cold or at room temperature. The salad keeps well in the fridge but will taste best the day it is made.
Makes 8 servings
Note: Bulghur (or bulgur) is a sort of cracked wheat product. Do not substitute cracked wheat, though, as it is different. Look for bulghur and try to find "Medium grind" or "medium". Some supermarkets have it and Middle eastern stores have it for sure (and there you will also find different levels of grind.)
Note: Slicing the parsley (and the mint) should be done in back and forth motions as opposed to up and down, to prevent the leaves from releasing too much juice, which will make the dish a little bitter. Don't sweat it, just do the best you can.
And start walking. It's good exercise and you meet all kinds of people and adventures. Look where it got Avraham.
Avraham has ants in his pants. The man cannot sit still for a second. From the moment we meet him for the first time he is already on the move. And he keeps moving all through the parasha. It's almost as if G-d finally came up with circumcision as a strategy to keep Avraham in one place for more than a few days, so He can come visit (next parasha, spoiler alert) with an important message.
Where is the man going? Everywhere. The original wandering Jew. And everywhere he goes, he has a profound effect on the people he meets and even on the lands he passes through.
What does Avraham bring along with him? A new idea. A new religion. A new philosophy.
We don't really hear about the people he had influenced except in a roundabout way. We know he is gaining fame as a rich person, a warrior (when did that happen? he usually avoids conflict like the plague), a fair person, a righteous person.
The people of the Levant has never seen such a thing. They are used to hardy nomads. And desert dwellers certainly have their own code of honor; but Avraham had a higher authority to back up his code.
We know he was a great host. So we can imagine he usually had guests for dinner. And after everyone ate their fill, you know they all sat around the fire (leaving it to the women to do the dishes, as usual) and shmoozed. Even if the word shmooze was not invented yet, they did shmooze. People told stories, asked questions, gossiped, exchanged information. And surely some of them asked the following question: "Reb Avaraham, we have heard about you. Your reputation spreads far and wide. They say you are against child sacrifice. Can you explain why that is so? I mean, without child sacrifice, the crops will surely fail, no? Do you wish for people to starve?" (BTW, I used child sacrifice as an example; you can insert any pagan rite you prefer instead.)
And Avraham would explain, talking in a quiet, measured voice, long into the night. About the one and only G-d, about the sacredness of life, about inner contemplation and striving to be closer to the creator. And people listened. Not everyone and not everywhere. But little by little Avraham and Sarah "made souls" - talked people into being better and doing better and living a better, more moral life.
Among the dishes served around the fire, all through their wanderings around the Levant, the following dish would have been a staple. It requires no cooking, it uses ingredients that are widespread in the area (even if not here in the USA), it's quick to put together, it doesn't require refrigeration and it's extremely refreshing in the desert heat.
It's called tabbouleh and this is one version of it:
Tabbouleh
1 cup medium grind bulghur (see note)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
Juice from 2 large lemons (do not use bottled juice)
Salt to taste
6-7 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup mint leaves, thinly sliced
1 large tomato, cubed (1/2 inch cubes)
3 cups parsley leaves, thinly sliced (see note)
Rinse bulghur in plenty of fresh water, changing water a few times.
Cover with fresh water and let rest 30 minutes.
Drain well and squeeze out (using your hands, over a strainer) most of the water
Mix garlic, lemon juice and a bit of salt. Add oil and mix.
Add tomato.
Add bulghur and mix.
Add mint and parsley. Mix well.
Serve cold or at room temperature. The salad keeps well in the fridge but will taste best the day it is made.
Makes 8 servings
Note: Bulghur (or bulgur) is a sort of cracked wheat product. Do not substitute cracked wheat, though, as it is different. Look for bulghur and try to find "Medium grind" or "medium". Some supermarkets have it and Middle eastern stores have it for sure (and there you will also find different levels of grind.)
Note: Slicing the parsley (and the mint) should be done in back and forth motions as opposed to up and down, to prevent the leaves from releasing too much juice, which will make the dish a little bitter. Don't sweat it, just do the best you can.
And start walking. It's good exercise and you meet all kinds of people and adventures. Look where it got Avraham.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Harvest time
Ahhhhhh. Sukkot.
What can be better. The weather has finally figured out it is no longer summer. The leaves are holding their yearly fashion seminar ( "Red is the new green".) The kids (Oh, praise the Lord and Halleluiah) are back in school. And hubby is busy picking the last of the tomatoes. Autumn. My favorite season.
In the olden days, this was the time our ancestors traveled (again) to Jerusalem. Of all three pilgrimages, this one was the most beloved. The end of Harvest in an agricultural society is a very happy time. The crops are in, the work is done, it's time to rejoice and be grateful for what we have (and you know how I like this particular idea.)
Ancient Israelites harvested all kinds of things. Dates, olives, wheat, barley, grapes. You know, the good stuff. And when G-d was looking favorably upon them, they harvested plenty. What did they do with all that bounty? Some they ate. Some they took to Jerusalem as tithes and sacrifices and gifts. Some they probably traded for other household needs (I just bet there were some husbands who drove their wives nuts trading grapes for the latest meshuggas in toys-for-older-boys,) but a lot of it had to be preserved somehow so they can use it all year long until the next harvest came in (G-d willing.)
How do you save food with no refrigeration? Humans are very good at inventing what needs to be invented (see: the iPod.) So they came up with various preservation methods. Dates can be dried, olives can be crushed into oil, wheat and barley can be ground into flour, grapes can be made into wine (which can be traded for even better toys-for-older-boys.) Some produce can be stored in cool cellars, some in clay jars, some can be preserved in salt, some in honey, some in oil. Really, we humans are very creative this way.
For example, lemons. They're very good as they are, for juice and lemonade and stuff, but what to do when there are too many?
Here's what:
Lemons - as many as you want. Very important: Do NOT use regular lemons. You must find the ones that have a very thick peel. They look a little like baby etroggim that are yellow. If you can't find them, try again another time. Best place to look for these are greengrocers.
Kosher salt.
Lemon juice from fresh lemons only. You can use regular lemons for the juice.
A little extra virgin olive oil.
Clean glass jars with tight fitting lids and rather wide mouths.
Wash the lemons well, scrubbing the outside. Dry.
Slice each lemon into quarters but not all the way through (the quarters should be attached at the bottom.)
Sprinkle a very generous amount (1 or 2 tablespoons) of kosher salt into the lemon.
Stuff lemon into the jar and push it down hard.
Repeat with as many lemons and jars as you have, making sure to press the lemons hard into the jars and try to fill each jar all the way up (it should take an effort to screw the tops on.)
Leave on the counter top for 3-4 days, tilting the jars every day. You should see juice collecting in each jar and it might even reach to the top.
After 4 days or so, add fresh lemon juice to fill up any jar that has not filled with juice naturally.
Pour a thin layer of olive oil at the top of each jar and close tightly.
Leave jars on the counter top for 4-6 weeks. If mold forms, throw the jar out and start over with a new batch, but if you used clean jars and washed the lemons well, there should be no problem. Don't leave it in the sun.
After 4 to 6 weeks the lemons should be soft (including the peel) and so they are ready to use.
Once you start using them, store jar in the fridge. They should keep for months there, though the oil might harden. That's normal.
Imagine opening a jar like this in January. It's like a little sunshine in the kitchen.
Now, what do you do with this?
In a few weeks (when your lemons are ready), we'll see what can be done with pickled lemons. Any woman who has sons can probably guess that it will involve some sort of mischief.
P.S. In case you're wondering why I say nothing about the chag itself: What's to say, people? Build a sukkah, invite as many people on as many of the days as you can, have dinner parties, sleepover parties, hangout parties, whatever. Spend as much time as you can there. Sit back in a comfy chair, look up and watch the stars through the s'chach, count you blessings and be thankful for everything you have: A house that you can come back to at the end of Sukkot, a Sukkah you can dwell in for your soul, family and friends to share it with, plenty of food, eyes to see the stars G-d made, lungs to breath in the cool fresh air of an Autumn night, children to teach the ways of our ancestors, and plenty. So much plenty that we sometimes forget where it came from, how lucky we are to have it and who we should thank for it. Thanksgiving is in less than 2 months. Start practicing.
What can be better. The weather has finally figured out it is no longer summer. The leaves are holding their yearly fashion seminar ( "Red is the new green".) The kids (Oh, praise the Lord and Halleluiah) are back in school. And hubby is busy picking the last of the tomatoes. Autumn. My favorite season.
In the olden days, this was the time our ancestors traveled (again) to Jerusalem. Of all three pilgrimages, this one was the most beloved. The end of Harvest in an agricultural society is a very happy time. The crops are in, the work is done, it's time to rejoice and be grateful for what we have (and you know how I like this particular idea.)
Ancient Israelites harvested all kinds of things. Dates, olives, wheat, barley, grapes. You know, the good stuff. And when G-d was looking favorably upon them, they harvested plenty. What did they do with all that bounty? Some they ate. Some they took to Jerusalem as tithes and sacrifices and gifts. Some they probably traded for other household needs (I just bet there were some husbands who drove their wives nuts trading grapes for the latest meshuggas in toys-for-older-boys,) but a lot of it had to be preserved somehow so they can use it all year long until the next harvest came in (G-d willing.)
How do you save food with no refrigeration? Humans are very good at inventing what needs to be invented (see: the iPod.) So they came up with various preservation methods. Dates can be dried, olives can be crushed into oil, wheat and barley can be ground into flour, grapes can be made into wine (which can be traded for even better toys-for-older-boys.) Some produce can be stored in cool cellars, some in clay jars, some can be preserved in salt, some in honey, some in oil. Really, we humans are very creative this way.
For example, lemons. They're very good as they are, for juice and lemonade and stuff, but what to do when there are too many?
Here's what:
Pickled Lemons
Lemons - as many as you want. Very important: Do NOT use regular lemons. You must find the ones that have a very thick peel. They look a little like baby etroggim that are yellow. If you can't find them, try again another time. Best place to look for these are greengrocers.
Kosher salt.
Lemon juice from fresh lemons only. You can use regular lemons for the juice.
A little extra virgin olive oil.
Clean glass jars with tight fitting lids and rather wide mouths.
Wash the lemons well, scrubbing the outside. Dry.
Slice each lemon into quarters but not all the way through (the quarters should be attached at the bottom.)
Sprinkle a very generous amount (1 or 2 tablespoons) of kosher salt into the lemon.
Stuff lemon into the jar and push it down hard.
Repeat with as many lemons and jars as you have, making sure to press the lemons hard into the jars and try to fill each jar all the way up (it should take an effort to screw the tops on.)
Leave on the counter top for 3-4 days, tilting the jars every day. You should see juice collecting in each jar and it might even reach to the top.
After 4 days or so, add fresh lemon juice to fill up any jar that has not filled with juice naturally.
Pour a thin layer of olive oil at the top of each jar and close tightly.
Leave jars on the counter top for 4-6 weeks. If mold forms, throw the jar out and start over with a new batch, but if you used clean jars and washed the lemons well, there should be no problem. Don't leave it in the sun.
After 4 to 6 weeks the lemons should be soft (including the peel) and so they are ready to use.
Once you start using them, store jar in the fridge. They should keep for months there, though the oil might harden. That's normal.
Imagine opening a jar like this in January. It's like a little sunshine in the kitchen.
Now, what do you do with this?
In a few weeks (when your lemons are ready), we'll see what can be done with pickled lemons. Any woman who has sons can probably guess that it will involve some sort of mischief.
P.S. In case you're wondering why I say nothing about the chag itself: What's to say, people? Build a sukkah, invite as many people on as many of the days as you can, have dinner parties, sleepover parties, hangout parties, whatever. Spend as much time as you can there. Sit back in a comfy chair, look up and watch the stars through the s'chach, count you blessings and be thankful for everything you have: A house that you can come back to at the end of Sukkot, a Sukkah you can dwell in for your soul, family and friends to share it with, plenty of food, eyes to see the stars G-d made, lungs to breath in the cool fresh air of an Autumn night, children to teach the ways of our ancestors, and plenty. So much plenty that we sometimes forget where it came from, how lucky we are to have it and who we should thank for it. Thanksgiving is in less than 2 months. Start practicing.
Friday, September 7, 2012
We, the people
This week's parasha is really scary. It's full of horrible things that will happen to the Israelites if they fail to obey G-d's commandments. Oy, the horrors. The list of terrible things go on and on for page after page. If you don't listen, says Moshe, you will starve even if you work real hard, your kids will die in front of your eyes, your country will be given to some worthless barbarians, all sorts of sickness will happen to you, etc, etc. Oy Vey.
What's up with that? What's with the scare tactics?
Well, looking back on history, it seems they were needed. The Israelites certainly did all kinds of dumb things, breaking every rule in the book and practically every horrible thing they were threatened with, really did happen.
I remember one bad thing in particular. A few years ago I was sitting in shul one Shabbat around this time of year and the Rabbi was discussing the fact that that week was the birthday of Gilad Shalit, who was still in captivity at that time. I was half listening and half reading the text and I came upon D'varim 28:32: "Your sons and daughters will be given to another people and your eyes will see and pine in vain for them all day long but your hand will be powerless". And then I saw D'varim 28:41 "You will bear sons and daughters but they will not be yours for they will go into captivity".
Oy, indeed.
But sometimes G-d is pleased with us and sends us a bounty of blessings. Naturally, G-d has a sense of humor and even His blessings can be a burden (see: teenage daughters.) So this summer hubby has an abundance of peppers. Not surprising, as he planted many peppers. What's weird, though, is that he planted both hot and sweet peppers yet they all came up hot. Very hot. Lava-level. What to do? Can't throw away G-d's blessing. And I assume He has a hidden message in the hot-that-were-supposed-to-be-sweet peppers. So now what?
Now it's time for S'chug.
See, sometimes, we need to think carefully even about the blessings. And certainly about how to avoid the bad stuff.
It's almost Rosh Hashana. We'd better start paying attention, no? It's a time for reflection. We must reflect on what happens when we ignore words that are clearly written in our book.
Wait, written? Isn't D'varim a long speech? Well, In chapter 27 verse 9 it says "Moshe and the Kohanim, the Levi'im spoke to all Israel, saying: Be attentive and hear, O, Israel, this day you have become a people to Hashem your G-d". This day? What about Sinai?
Well, says Rashi, Moshe (as will be explained in a later parasha, at the end of D'varim) wrote everything down (guessing, correctly, that oral law is all good and well but written law is easier to remember and harder to argue with) and handed the book to the Levi'im. The rest of the people got all worried that eventually the Levi'im will claim sole ownership of the book and cut the others out. Moshe was very pleased by this worry as it shows that they all love the Torah enough to fight for it and he says this shows they have matured enough to be a true people of G-d. Is the Torah only for the Levi'im? Unfortunately, there are people who think so to this day. There are people who would have the Torah and its message belong only to them and their little sect. To these people (one of them is actually named Moshe, if you can imagine) I say :" Yo, man, I, too, stood at Sinai. This is my Torah, too, and don't try to cut me out 'cause I am ready to fight for it."
You have been warned.
What's up with that? What's with the scare tactics?
Well, looking back on history, it seems they were needed. The Israelites certainly did all kinds of dumb things, breaking every rule in the book and practically every horrible thing they were threatened with, really did happen.
I remember one bad thing in particular. A few years ago I was sitting in shul one Shabbat around this time of year and the Rabbi was discussing the fact that that week was the birthday of Gilad Shalit, who was still in captivity at that time. I was half listening and half reading the text and I came upon D'varim 28:32: "Your sons and daughters will be given to another people and your eyes will see and pine in vain for them all day long but your hand will be powerless". And then I saw D'varim 28:41 "You will bear sons and daughters but they will not be yours for they will go into captivity".
Oy, indeed.
But sometimes G-d is pleased with us and sends us a bounty of blessings. Naturally, G-d has a sense of humor and even His blessings can be a burden (see: teenage daughters.) So this summer hubby has an abundance of peppers. Not surprising, as he planted many peppers. What's weird, though, is that he planted both hot and sweet peppers yet they all came up hot. Very hot. Lava-level. What to do? Can't throw away G-d's blessing. And I assume He has a hidden message in the hot-that-were-supposed-to-be-sweet peppers. So now what?
Now it's time for S'chug.
Scary Yemenite super hot sauce
Word of warning: This is very hot. Israelis have no problem with it. We grow up eating it. All others - you have been warned. It's really good with hummus, felafel, and some people use it with yogurt, but use minute amounts (1/8 tsp, with lots of bread nearby, just in case) until you know how much you can take. Really.
1 whole head of garlic (peeled)
4 oz fresh hot peppers (green Serrano or jalapeno or other really hot ones. Hubby's are way hotter than plain jalapenos but maybe it's better to start with mild stuff. Yes, jalapenos are 'mild' compared to what Israelis eat.). Remove stems. Keep seeds unless you really don't like hot stuff (in which case, why are you making this?)
large bunch of cilantro (about one cup of leaves), washed and dried
1/4 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp turmeric (optional)
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup olive oil (or less)
Put everything except the oil in a food processor. Pulse a few times. Add 2 Tbs oil, pulse again. Scrape the sides of the bowl. Process until well chopped, adding oil one Tbs at a time. Add only enough oil for the mixture to come together. The end result looks a little like very smooth pickle relish.
Keep in a jar with tight fitting lid. Don't worry about how much this makes. The stuff keeps in the fridge forever. I mean, what will survive in it?
See, sometimes, we need to think carefully even about the blessings. And certainly about how to avoid the bad stuff.
It's almost Rosh Hashana. We'd better start paying attention, no? It's a time for reflection. We must reflect on what happens when we ignore words that are clearly written in our book.
Wait, written? Isn't D'varim a long speech? Well, In chapter 27 verse 9 it says "Moshe and the Kohanim, the Levi'im spoke to all Israel, saying: Be attentive and hear, O, Israel, this day you have become a people to Hashem your G-d". This day? What about Sinai?
Well, says Rashi, Moshe (as will be explained in a later parasha, at the end of D'varim) wrote everything down (guessing, correctly, that oral law is all good and well but written law is easier to remember and harder to argue with) and handed the book to the Levi'im. The rest of the people got all worried that eventually the Levi'im will claim sole ownership of the book and cut the others out. Moshe was very pleased by this worry as it shows that they all love the Torah enough to fight for it and he says this shows they have matured enough to be a true people of G-d. Is the Torah only for the Levi'im? Unfortunately, there are people who think so to this day. There are people who would have the Torah and its message belong only to them and their little sect. To these people (one of them is actually named Moshe, if you can imagine) I say :" Yo, man, I, too, stood at Sinai. This is my Torah, too, and don't try to cut me out 'cause I am ready to fight for it."
You have been warned.
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