By Emily Moore, JTNews Correspondent
Who better to receive a Mother’s Day food tribute than our Jewish mothers?
Even outside Jewish culture, jokes and stories have long informed society of their attributed characteristics: Strong and loving, critical yet utterly compassionate, too worried about us and infuriatingly long suffering. Above all, of course, Jewish mothers are concerned that we should eat! We could waste away, God forbid, on the skimpy meals we cook away from their care and their kitchens.
In the food traditions that flow from mothers to children, we receive our most intimately held understandings of our Jewish culture, so I feel it’s particularly fitting to honor our mothers with some stories that generate a few Jewish mother recipes.
I owe my own upbringing to the relationship between my mother Jean and her identical twin sister Sylvia, and their recollections of life with their own mother in the family’s Russian/Polish household in New York.
As the sisters grew up and struggled with raising families and the development of their own lives, they relied upon each other’s memories to keep their mother’s wonderful food alive. “Mama,” as they called her, had written down a few recipes, but the twins felt they could easily remember what she had done; after all, they had cooked with her and had eaten her food all their young lives.
The trouble was that, as my grandmother’s memory retreated further into the past, my aunt and my mom had divergent recollections of Mama’s exact recipes and techniques.
“Jeanie, what are you doing?” my aunt might say, watching my mother put matzah meal into potato latke batter. “Mama would never use that much. And she would drain the potatoes better so the latkes wouldn’t be mushy. Also, why are you grating the onion so big? And don’t use so much! Isn’t it one small onion for four potatoes?”
“I can’t find the grater Mama used to use for the onions, so this one is a little bigger,” my mother might counter. “The matzah meal is fine, and these potatoes are big! Did Mama use white pepper? Did she only use one clove of garlic? Or was it a little more?”
So my grandmother is always present in the kitchen with my two “mothers” as they kibbitz back and forth, trying to find the perfect re-creation of Mama’s lovely latkes. Here is my mother’s current recipe which I requested — in writing — so one of the three mothers’ versions would be available to me without Jean having to call Sylvia and conjure Mama’s remembered techniques. By the way, my mother’s daring addition is a dash of cayenne —
“Mama would never!” my aunt would laugh!
Another distinctive family dish occasionally plagued the after-school hours of my sister and me when we grew up. The recipe was undoubtedly part of the twins’ youth in Brooklyn, where Mama was owner and landlord of their building, kept a strict kosher household, and played a mean game of poker most Saturday nights. For us it didn’t translate to our WASP-ish neighborhood in Southern California.
We knew if we spied a dreaded beef tongue sitting in its pickling brine in the refrigerator, its cooking fumes would envelope our house with an unspeakably smelly cloud as it simmered away in the pressure cooker. Somehow, the cooking meat combined with pickling spices created a scent that our sensitive young noses could not bear.
At the first sniff, we fled to our goyishe friends’ houses where they ate Cheetos and Oreos and bologna sandwiches on Wonder bread with Miracle Whip (few of these normal American foods were experienced in our house), and where they would not have known that beef tongue was considered food.
Years later, I developed a strong proclivity for tongue sandwiches on good rye with hot mustard, and I think I once actually greeted the smell of cooking tongue with pleasure as I walked into my Aunt Sylvia’s kitchen during preparations for some family celebration.
As my culinary experiences grew, I realized that the recipe for pickled tongue is virtually the same as the one used for Jewish corned-beef brisket, the homemade version of which has no peer.
It’s easy, it smells great cooking, and you don’t need a pressure cooker — in fact, this version calls for slow cooking in the oven. Make it for Mother’s Day week — you may have to ask your meat market for a brisket a day or two ahead, and you’ll need to leave three days for the meat to “corn” (cure) in the fridge. Serve it with carrots and sweet parsnips and noodles or potatoes and create some new, great-smelling traditions for the household.
Jean’s Potato Latkes
by Jean Pauline
Preparation time: 1 hour
9 large potatoes, peeled and grated
3 eggs
1 large onion, grated
1 clove garlic, minced
1/3 cup matzah meal
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp black pepper
canola oil for frying
Grate potatoes with small-holed grater, or cut into pieces and pulse in the bowl of a food processor until finely grated. Pour off about half the water released. Add remaining ingredients and mix well.
Heat 1/4” oil (must be deep enough to lightly “float” the latkes as they cook) in a large skillet until it shimmers but doesn’t begin to smoke.
Spoon batter into the hot oil using fully rounded tablespoons. Fry until golden brown, turn over and fry the other side until golden brown.
Place on a dish on paper towel to absorb excess grease and place dish into warm oven to keep pancakes from getting cold. Serve with sour cream and applesauce.
To freeze, place in single layers on trays and wrap with plastic wrap; when frozen store in recloseable bags. Reheat in a 325º oven for about 25 minutes.
Makes about 60 latkes (15 servings)
Per serving: 126 Calories; 7.4g Fat (54% calories from fat); 2.7g Protein; 12.7g Carbohydrate; 194mg Sodium
Both twins have been diabetic since their late 20s, so our families had a different outlook on sweets. Since my father was also a dentist, my sister and I were restricted to only four sweets a week! My mom later developed low-fat, low-sugar recipes, such as this delectable applesauce to serve with the (not-so-low-fat) latkes. Serve them together with light sour cream for Mother’s Day Brunch:
Jean’s Applesauce
by Jean Pauline
Preparation time: 30 minutes
7 sweet-tart apples
3 Tbsp raisins
2 cinnamon sticks
Wash and quarter apples. (Don’t peel or core—these “extras” add flavor to the sauce.)
Add raisins and cinnamon sticks. Add enough water to half cover apples. Bring to a boil, cover and cook on low heat for 30 minutes or until apples are very soft.
Place in food mill or metal strainer, then remove cinnamon sticks. Press solids completely through strainer or mill so that the cooked raisins are included in the sauce. Discard peels and seeds.
Serve as garnish to latkes along with light sour cream.
Makes about a quart of applesauce (8 servings).
Per serving: 90 calories; 6g Fat (5% calories from fat);
0g Protein; 5g Carbohydrates; 0mg Cholesterol; 1mg Sodium
Homemade Corned Beef
Adapted from Jean Grossinger
Preparation time: 3 hours
5 lbs beef brisket, trimmed of extra fat
1 cup kosher salt
2 Tbsp sugar
4 Tbsp mixed pickling spice
4 bay leaves
1/2 oz saltpeter, optional (see note)
8 cups water
8 cloves garlic, peeled
2 med. onions, peeled and sliced
3 med. carrots, peeled
3 med. parsnips, peeled
To cure the meat:
(Note — Saltpeter is available at meat markets and occasionally at drugstores. Its purpose is to keep the meat pink during cooking and storage, but is not necessary for the cooking of the dish and doesn’t affect its flavor.)
Combine the salt, sugar, pickling spice, bay leaves, saltpeter and water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and let simmer for 5 minutes. Let cool completely and add the garlic cloves.
Pour the liquid into a one-gallon recloseable bag and put in the brisket. Seal the bag, pressing out as much air as possible.
Place in a glass or ceramic baking dish in the refrigerator. Let cure for 3–4 days. Turn the bag over once a day to cure the meat evenly.
Remove the meat from the bag, discard the brine liquid and the spices and rinse the brisket completely in three changes of water.
To cook:
Place the meat in a glass or ceramic (or Corning) baking dish and cover with the sliced onions.
Add enough hot water to come halfway up the sides of the brisket. Cover with a tight-fitting lid or tight aluminum foil.
Roast in a 325º oven for two hours.
Meanwhile, peel the carrots and parsnips and cut into pieces about 2” x 2-1/2”.
Add to the pot, recover, raise the heat to 350º and continue to cook for one more hour or until the meat and vegetables are very tender (take a taste to be sure). If not tender, continue cooking for another 1/2 hour or so.
Serve with noodles or boiled potatoes and the vegetables from the pot, with lots of liquid from the cooking. (If you need more, add more water when you add the vegetables.)
Makes 10 servings
Per serving: 723 Calories; 60.3g Fat (75% calories from fat); 38.7g Protein; 3.8g Carbohydrates; 166mg Cholesterol; 335mg Sodium