Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Wordless Wednesday: Topped with Cheese!





If this is too wordless for you, the photos show some cheese-topped foods that I've cooked recently: stuffed baked potatoes, cornbread (two views), and a frittata with two kinds of cheese. 

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

"Candies from Heaven"

Gil Hovav is famous in Israel for his TV and print journalism, especially his cooking shows. As I'm not a consumer of Israeli pop culture, I hadn't heard of him until I read the reviews of his newly-translated memoir, Candies from Heaven (published in English in October, 2017). My favorite review is in Tablet Magazine, here.

Each chapter tells a story about Hovav's childhood in Jerusalem. He completely captures the point of view of "Gili," his childish self. I enjoyed the colorful descriptions of his brother, his parents, his grandparents (living and not), aunts, uncles, cousins, and Aisha,  their "housekeeper," a woman who came from Morocco and always lived in the family apartment because she had never bothered with legal papers. Their conflicts and affections and his childish struggles with understanding them are beautifully described.

As in many families, food was important to Gili's relatives. There were pastries from France, quince candies, chicken soup, packed-lunch sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, and many other foods. His aunts, and many others had their special dishes such as Aunt Levana's Carrot Salad or Moroccan Chicken in Paprika and Lemon. I appreciate the simplicity of most of the recipes that follow each chapter -- they actually seem to be real renditions of the foods that were eaten in the chapters.

But Gili's mother was so terrible at cooking that on her one effort to make a Sabbath roast, she messed up so completely that she had her sons take it to a garbage can somewhere and corroborate her story that the dog had eaten it. His father was sometimes so hungry for meat that he would eat the chicken necks that were supposed to be the dog's actual dinner.

Candies from Heaven
is beautifully and amusingly illustrated.
Above all, his grandmother, called Mooma, had recipes. I especially liked the chapter titled "A Morning of Laughing Bourekas" --
"Every Thursday, Mooma made about one hundred bourekas with three different fillings: eggplant, spinach and cheese. Despite the respectable quantity, only about fifty bourekas would survive until Saturday night, when the ancient gang of Ladino speakers – we called them the Sephardi Underground – would convene. The bourekas were actually meant for them, and if there weren’t enough – it would mean big trouble." -- Candies from Heaven, Kindle Locations 3124-3127). 
Of course the small child Gili gets in trouble for his fascination with the bourekas -- he becomes ambitious and tries to shape, fill, and bake them while his grandmother is letting the dough rest. They open up in the oven, instead of staying sealed. And Mooma forgives him and says his ill-formed pastries are smiling at him, not mocking him with laughter.

Hovav's mother had an expression: "I don't envy you." This was a threat -- it always followed something he was about to do but she was warning him not to. I enjoyed the humor in this repeated theme. A few of them:
"Now I would like all of you to be quiet. I’m tired, I took two sleeping pills and want to get a good sleep. If anyone bothers me one more time ... I don’t envy either of you, do you hear me? Quiet, hush!" -- Candies from Heaven, Kindle Locations 929-931.
“Either you get back here this very minute or I don’t envy you. For God’s sake, there’s a policeman here, don’t you see?! He’ll shoot you!” -- Kindle Locations 2854-2856.
"'Stand straight, Moshe, stand straight!' my mother instructed, holding a lit candle. 'Don’t do anything foolish. If you pull your back out again, I don’t envy you. You’ll have to find someone else to feed you and bathe you and serve you for two weeks while you lie in bed and read newspapers.'" -- Kindle Locations 1407-1409.
Gili even picks up this expression when threatening to tattle on his older brother:
"I’ll write in my diary that you refuse to take me, and then Mom will find the diary in its hiding place and read it, and then Mom won’t envy you.” -- Kindle Locations 1110-1111.
I enjoyed reading Candies from Heaven. Almost every major Israeli immigrant group seems to have been part of Hovav's family. His father was from a Yemenite neighborhood. His grandfather was the ultimate Yiddish-speaking Jew, namely Eliezer Ben-Yehuda who created the modern Hebrew language and convinced the settlers around 100 years ago to adopt it -- not Yiddish -- as the language of the newly emerging nation. Collateral relatives came from France, from Sephardic areas like Morocco, from the German Jewish immigrant community, and so on. Because the point of view in the stories is always in the eyes of Gili, the child of six to nine years old, this multi-ethnic environment is taken as normal, not over-hyped.

Hovav manages to make all kinds of things seem totally natural, not forced or literary. Is this for real?  Or is it sort of a work of fiction? That's not an important issue: it's a book that really reads naturally, with lots of very nice food memories, family stories, family rivalries, and all around warmth.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Bagels, Lox, Corned Beef, Challah, Rye Bread: What is Jewish food?

"English... has been using [the word] schmaltz for at least eighty years in a sense undreamed of in Yiddish. The earliest metaphorical use given by the OED is from a 1935 article in Vanity Fair that describes schmaltz as 'a derogatory term used to describe straight jazz.' ... Schmaltz was the rendered essence of square, and soon came to be applied to any artistic production, musical or not, that was overly sentimental, excessively sweet, and never, ever subtle. If the emotion in sentimentality is unearned, that in schmaltz is indigestible."--(Michael Wex, Rhapsody in Schmaltz, pp 87-88)

Schmaltzy in English today has become a synonym for corny, often applied to bad jokes. Excessively shmaltzy comedy routines and self-conscious, too ethnic, Jewish comedians aren't as popular as they used to be 50 or 60 years ago. The word schmaltz makes me think of cheap jokes that bring up Jewish stereotypes -- old stereotypes that don't even particularly apply to the current generation.

Michael Wex's book Rhapsody in Schmaltz is full of this unfortunate type of humor, often very out of date, so I don't know what younger readers would make of it. I find it hard to believe that the book was just published last year (2016)!  Here's a sample corny sentence: "Goose fat is generally thought of as the tastier, more full-bodied schmaltz, the Jayne Mansfield of kosher cooking, as compared with the Audrey Hepburn that is chicken schmaltz." (p. 79).

Wex also includes quite a few colorful Yiddish sayings that incorporate specific foods into insults, character judgements, or generic folk wisdom. For example, "to fall into a schmaltz mine" in Yiddish means either "to strike it rich" or or "to stumble into an unexpected stroke of good luck: 'I was looking for Archie comics at the swap meet and found a Gutenberg Bible for fifty cents— bin ikh arayngefaln in shmalts-gribl, I fell into the mother lode of chicken fat.' Ironically, someone who does so is often described as having treyfene mazl, unkosher luck, the Yiddish version of 'the luck of the Irish.'" (p. 87). Or this: "'kugel with lard'— kugl mit khazer-shmalts— is used in Yiddish to describe un-Jewish ideas that have been given a superficial coat of Jewishness. ... if Jewish liberals still spoke Yiddish, they’d be using it on Jewish Republicans who use their religious background to justify their social and political ideas." (p. 137).

Rhapsody in Schmaltz also includes some reasonably decent historic discussions about Jewish food in Eastern Europe -- my reason for reading the book was that I expected some real history. Along with the schmaltzy jokes, the history is there; though the long digressions about the Biblical basis of some food customs are a bit tedious, as are explanations of the blessings that religious Jews said over various types of food, and how that affected their attitudes towards the food. Wex says that Sabbath foods are the mainstay of Jewish cuisine, so he spends a large amount of time describing them and how they came to be eaten on this weekly Jewish special day.

My favorite element of the book is the way it explains how some seemingly Jewish foods of great historic longevity are of very recent adoption. Potatoes -- the food my father most remembered from his childhood in the shtetl -- came into Jewish life around 1800 or 1850 when they became staples in Eastern Europe. "Czar Nicholas I, more mindful of the potato’s superior yield and short growing season than of the recent disaster in Ireland, introduced its mass cultivation to his empire and transformed the East European diet." (p. 116). Other foods, like corned beef, unknown in Europe, were bound up with the history of delicatessens in American cities like New York and Montreal.

Wex also covers foods that have been in Jewish life for centuries. For example, "Noodles— specifically egg noodles— are among the oldest Ashkenazi dishes and have occupied a prominent place in Ashkenazi cookery since at least the eleventh century, when they were mentioned under the name frimsls in the High Holiday prayer book of Simcha ben Shmuel of Vitry, who died in 1105." (p. 127).

Rhaposdy in Schmaltz explains the role in Jewish life of a huge number of foods. A few of the most entertaining or instructional topics:
  • Bagels, lox, and cream cheese, now completely incorporated into American food ways, used to be a breakfast treat only for Jews and maybe other patrons of Jewish food establishments. Bagels originated in the Yiddish-speaking areas of Eastern Europe. Christian inhabitants of this area also baked and enjoyed bagels, but didn't come to America and start bakeries and delis. Cream cheese, on the other hand, is "a purely American product, invented in upstate New York in 1872." (p. 229).  And lox is somewhere in between, having become associated with bagels late in its history and mainly in New York and other Jewish cities.
  • Corned beef, pastrami, and rye bread, which also started as Jewish deli menu items, are now widely popular in the US. I was most interested to learn from Wex that pastrami and corned beef were strictly American developments in Jewish gastronomy, not at all from Yiddish cuisine. Rye bread in Eastern Europe, he explains, was far different from the product of American Jewish bakeries. "Delicatessen as we know it," he writes in his corny way,  is "the food that kills those who love it best." And an "American variation on a few themes with roots in Europe." (p. 251). 
  • Chicken soup and gefilte fish became stereotyped Jewish foods in the US, though not without a reason. While chicken soup is cooked and enjoyed anywhere that there are chickens (which means everywhere), gefilte fish, Wex explained, was truly a Jewish invention for complicated reasons involving requirements and restrictions on foods eaten for the Sabbath. He also rants and rages because he hates gefilte fish from a jar, which is the only kind most ordinary Jews now less than 85 years old have ever really eaten. I think he missed some of the details of gefilte fish history, which I wrote about in a blog post some time ago here.
  • Cholent and goose were also Sabbath and holiday foods in the shtetls and cities of Eastern Europe. Goose, obviously, was the bird Jews ate (and used as a source of schmaltz) before they switched to mainly chicken and sometimes turkey. Cholent, the slow-cooked Sabbath stew, is explained in great detail, for the benefit of his readers who may never have seen it. "Second only to matzoh in antiquity, cholent is the only other Jewish food that might have originated with the Jews themselves," writes Wex (p. 108). The discussion of cholent and its close relatives kugel, kishka, "the stuffed neck of poultry known as a heldzl," calf’s-foot jelly, and the fruit or vegetable stew known as tsimmes all, according to Wex, were close associates of cholent. 
  • Kugel is a noodle pudding or potato casserole with traditional ingredients. "Even non-Jews considered kugel the Jewish food par excellence," Wex writes. "In 1728, Jesuits in Vilna threatened to excommunicate Catholics who ate 'Jewish kugel and other Jewish dishes.'"(p. 132). Like cholent, kugel could also be slow-cooked to allow a hot meal to be served on fire-prohibited holidays and Sabbath. Unlike cholent, kugel has taken on a life of its own in modern America. In my opinion, Wex missed some details about kugel and its Americanization.  I wrote about it a couple of years ago in this blog post. 
  • Challah is the Sabbath bread which seems to be a permanent forever fixture of Jewish Sabbath celebration. In fact, bread was part of the Sabbath ritual from early times, but the specific braided bread made with egg and oil came into Jewish life only around 500 years ago, "adapted from German breads baked for special occasions, especially Sundays." (p. 154).
  • Matzohs and matzoh balls, says Wex, owe a lot to the American entrepreneurs who developed mass-market packaged versions of these and many other Passover foods. He writes of "the matzoh ball, which began as the food of dreams ... only to end in the depressing ubiquity that has made it the main ingredient of too many lousy jokes." (p. 97). 
  • Carrots -- "Whether anchoring a tsimmes, floating in chicken soup, or crowning a piece of gefilte fish, the carrot is among the preeminent Yiddish vegetables, in part because its Yiddish plural form, mern, is identical to the Yiddish verb that means 'to increase.' Along with apples and honey and various other foods, it is eaten on the night of Rosh Hashana as part of a tasting ritual that presents our hopes for the new year in edible forms. ... Carrots are eaten to go along with a supplication that our merits might increase." (pp. 143-144). 
My overall impression is that Wex's book is flawed in its style, but contains lots of good information. I was familiar with quite a bit of the historical material, as I'm really very interested in Jewish food history. There are better sources for some of the specific materials, but he put it together in an effective way. Here to end is Wex's description of some of the best-known Jewish foods in America, illustrating again how he can be both corny and informative at the same time:
"If rugelach and chala have become moderately well known outside of the Jewish community, the bagel has managed the near unimaginable feat of actually becoming American, despite the fact that unless it’s come hot from the oven, this 'unsweetened doughnut with rigor mortis,' as it has too often been called, has half the shelf life of a fruit fly, a best-before-date of fifteen minutes prior to purchase. More than any other food discussed in this book, the bagel has been the focus of a great deal of talk about authenticity: Can bagels be frozen without losing their character? Are blueberry or cinnamon-raisin swirl acceptable bagel flavors? Are flavors acceptable at all, and if so, why stop with onion and garlic? Are sesame seeds better than poppy seeds, or should a proper bagel be seedless?" (p. 223)

Friday, December 08, 2017

The Invention of the Cherry Tomato

For a long time, I have accepted the widely publicized "fact" that Israeli scientists invented the cherry tomato. In today's Ha'aretz newspaper from Israel I read that I've been misled. The Israelis didn't invent the cherry tomato -- it's been around for centuries. Claims about its Israeli origin were amplified for propaganda reasons. The bottom line:
"The truth is that Israeli researchers developed modern varieties of the cherry tomato, which has become a commercial product found all over the world, mainly thanks to its long shelf life. Until the 1980s miniature tomatoes were a marginal crop used in dishes mainly as decoration."
Here are links to articles that explain what's real and how the exaggerated claim was propagated:
Caesar salad at an Israeli restaurant: with cherry tomatoes.
I was interested to read these two articles putting things in perspective, and exploring the topic of Israeli self-promotion.

Wednesday, December 06, 2017

"Tasty" by John McQuaid: A very satisfactory book!

A few things I learned from Tasty: The Art and Science of What We Eat by John McQuaid (published 2015) --
  • The history of humans cultivating sugarcane -- "the world's primary source of refined sugar for thousands of years" -- began around 6000 BC in Australia, Tasmania, and New Guinea. Extracting sugar from sugarcane required much cooperation from groups of humans. By 2500 years ago, sugar refining in India was becoming "an industrial art," and several forms of candy and sweetener were popular. I was especially fascinated by a myth about the Buddha being given sugar by a group of passing merchants, "a few weeks after his enlightenment." Enlightenment led to rejection of human cravings, and "thanks to his enlightened state, Siddhartha apparently ate the sweet treat with no trace of these cravings [for food, sex, money, and success], just simple enjoyment." (p. 110-111)
  • Perception of hot tastes, especially capsicum chiles, involves a mysterious combination of pain and relief from pain leading to pleasure. The neuroscience of how people react to chilis, especially incredibly hot ones, is described along with the efforts of chili growers to develop the world's hottest chili pepper. The history given here of the century-long scientific effort to understand how tasting chilis work is really amazing, and although I've read about it before, like many chapters in the book it put information together in a most enlightening way. And, we learn: eating chilis might make one live a longer, healthier life. 
  • The famous "map" of tastes on the tongue is entirely false. All taste buds have receptors for the five basic tastes -- sweet, salty, bitter, sour, and umami. And maybe for fat and starch as well. The often-invoked theory that different regions of the tongue had receptors for different flavors was an error that unfortunately became widely accepted and repeated. The exact way that taste receptors work and their genetic basis is still being discovered.
  • Archaeologists at work at Gesher ben Ya'aquov --
    image from Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
    The earliest known kitchen dates from roughly 780,000 years ago. At Gesher ben Ya'aqov in the North of Israel archaeologists found that cave dwellers -- either homo sapiens or a pre-human species -- were cooking grains, acorns, other seeds, olives, fish, deer, elephants, and other foods. "Fire was only the most potent of a whole suite of tools used in food preparation: these early humans had a kitchen. One area was devoted to gutting fish. A space used for processing nuts had hammer-stones and pitted anvils that had been used as bases for smashing the shells of acorns before roasting them." (p. 33)
  • Coffee combines a variety of bitter flavors, brought out by the exact method of selecting beans, roasting them, and extracting the flavors with high-pressure almost-boiling water from an espresso machine. You can separate a shot of espresso into three parts, which separately taste bad but together taste good, at least to coffee lovers! The chapter about bitter tastes, including coffee, explains how people's reaction to bitter flavors -- in coffee or anything else -- is complicated, involving genes, early experiences with food, cultural norms, and more. 
  • Darwin described facial expressions for human reactions (name them) in a way that still has validity. Study of these, especially the "disgust" reaction offers insight into many food-related studies, reinforcing the idea that many human expressions are fairly consistent across ethnic groups and cultural backgrounds.
In reading about the senses of smell and taste, I've become very interested in topics covered by this book, such as neuro-gastronomy and related ways of describing human anatomy, perception, etc. But each book I have read recently has been more or less like the ones before. McQuaid's Tasty is different! I felt that I was learning something new on every page.

Rather than a more usual review, I thought I would just summarize the above interesting things I learned while reading. The book is full of fascinating topics; among them: fermentation and its role in food preparation; global warming and how it will change wine production; ways that the brain perceives tastes, and many more. The organization of the book is in fact very clear and coherent, and this isn't meant to be a summary!


Sunday, December 03, 2017

Two Lives: Alice Waters, Julia Child

Alice Waters and Julia Child were absolutely essential in creating American views of food in the twentieth century. Waters' memoir Coming to My Senses, published earlier this fall, describes her life from childhood through the opening of her restaurant Chez Panisse.  While Alice Waters' entire reputation is inseparable from her life in Berkeley, California, she actually grew up in New Jersey and Indiana (near Chicago); her family moved to Los Angeles in time for her last year of high school, and she enrolled at University of California, Berkeley, after a brief time at UC Santa Barbara. She spent time in France and in England as well: I enjoyed her narration of her adventures there.

Alice Waters was born in 1944. Her early life, as she presents it, was typical of middle class Americans of the fifties and sixties, and then she was nurtured in the very radical climate of Berkeley, the Free Speech Movement, the hippies and beatniks of San Francisco, and the heated political atmosphere of protest and opposition to the Viet Nam war. She worked for the election of Bob Sheer to congress, a radical anti-war candidate. (He lost.)

However, she writes:
"Even though I shared a lot of counterculture values, I never connected with the hippie culture of the late 1960s, no question about it. The food in particular. I didn't really have friends who were hippies either -- except maybe my sisters Laura and Susan -- because I was seeking out people who thought about food and culture in a different way. I didn't want anything to do with the hippies' style of health food cooking: a jumble of chopped vegetables tossed together with pasta -- throw in a few bamboo shoots, and call it a Chinese meal. To me, that world was all about stale, dry brown bread and an indiscriminate way of eating cross-legged on couches or on the ground with none of the formality of the table. There was an aesthetic demarcation between the hippies and me, certainly as far as the food was concerned; I thought their approach was absolutely uncivilized, unrefined." (p. 148)
David Goines: Chez Panisse Poster.
Coming to My Senses is a very enjoyable book to read. I particularly admired the way that throughout the narrative of her early life, she is able to jump forward with little observations about how her early experiences influenced her mature life. Very coherently she relates how specific things -- her mother's views, her family's food ways, her educational background... -- informed her accomplishments at Chez Panisse and her still later development as a leader in American cuisine. She has a very broad appreciation of the cultural environment in which she created, and of the reason why the world was ready for her.

Alice Waters also documents her many relationships with a variety of people, some famous, some not-so-famous. These memories are very readable and interesting; for example, her long affair with David Goines, the graphic artist, who provided the art work that is in my mind fused to the era and to my own mental image of Chez Panisse. (I did eat there once in the 1980s, and enjoyed it, though I don't recall the exact menu.)

Importantly, Alice Waters acknowledges how important Julia Child's influence had been on American food views: Chez Panisse presented French cooking in a very novel way, and developed many American twists on the French classics, but American diners in Berkeley were ready for this, according to Alice, because: Julia Child.

As it happens, I also recently read a biography of Julia Child, specifically, a quite old biography, Appetite for Life, by Noël Riley Fitch (published 1997).While Waters is inseparable from California though she grew up in the East, Julia Child, whose reputation is inseparable from Boston and the East, in fact grew up in California. Her early years were spent in Pasadena, where her family lived in a mansion among the wealthiest residents; she attended high school at a boarding school in Marin County, and then went to Smith College. So just the opposite of Alice Waters, in a way.

I enjoyed learning about Julia Child's early life and the whole atmosphere of her California girlhood. She was born in 1912 -- a few years before Alice Waters' mother was born (1916). Appetite for Life is not nearly as successful a book as Coming to My Senses or as Julia Child's own memoir, My Life in France, which I read a few years ago. After Fitch's interesting discussion of Julia Child's family and early life, she tediously presented far too much detail about Julia Child's return to California, early job experiences; her World War II job in China, where she met her husband Paul Child, and so on. Fitch describes the writing of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, the development of the French Chef TV shows, and Julia Child's later experiences with great fame and success -- all in way too much detail. Just because Julia Child allowed Fitch access to all the letters, personal notes, professional records, and other closely held materials in her possession, Fitch seemed to think she had to relate every happening, no matter how repetitive. I kept reading until the end, but I'm not sure why. It was more than I wanted to learn.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Aromas and Smells in My Kitchen

My kitchen is full of aromas and smells -- one of the best things about home cooking! You can really use your sense of smell to make sure that your stew is spiced right. You can tell if something is burning. You can tell if something needs more garlic (and also will know if you have put in too much and it's too late). "Wake up and smell the coffee" is almost a proverb. Your own pizza in the oven smells divine. Toast some seeds like cumin or sesame in a frying pan and enjoy the smell. You just don't get the same sensations with take-out.

Coffee: one of the most recognizable aromas in our lives,
along with peanut butter, chocolate, beer, and some non-foods.
My sister-in-law Jean used to make an amazing brisket recipe years ago. Everyone loved it. I asked her about it, and she hasn't made it for ages, but offered this:
"I think I sprinkled it lightly with pepper & garlic after I coated it with ketchup.  Then heavily put dried onion flakes and a lot of raw carrots. Seal in foil -- not heavy duty foil but the cheap stuff. Bake at 350 degrees till it smells good. Then add water periodically till it smells delicious and it’s done." 
When she gave people this recipe they were always puzzled, but then they tried it and said oh, I see what you mean about smelling delicious.

I was thinking about this recipe in contrast to the iPhone app that lets you write a set of instructions for those faddish Instant Pots. Via Bluetooth, you can command this over-designed device about timing and temperature -- but even a very smart pot has no sense of smell. No way could you program it to make Jean's brisket recipe. In my kitchen: no instant pot! I'll stick with my old slow cooker: it keeps smells in until you lift its lid, which by-the-way, you're not supposed to do.

Aromas play a big role in my kitchen and no doubt in all kitchens. Obviously, they help when cooking and they make us want to eat, but they do much more also. Some fruits don't produce a truly intense smell unless they are overripe, like peaches, which I love, or bananas, which I hate. We all know how foods smell if they aren't tip-top, like turned milk or aging fish or overcooked cabbage.

Then there are foods that just have a wonderful aromatic character, like the following examples from my kitchen. I hope you can almost smell these --

Cinnamon.
Peppermint -- this is also the time of year for red and white peppermint
candy canes, peppermint-and-chocolate coated cookies, etc.
Rose Water is incredibly aromatic.
Use more than a few drops and you'll regret it!
Caraway seeds, enlarged.
Sage from our garden, which I hung up to dry. Smells so nice!
All the allium family have a strong aroma, especially garlic and shallots.
Onions and garlic are essential for many recipes. I feel sorry for people
who are unable to eat them.
I love lemon! Citrus zest is very aromatic.
There's nothing like a whiff of of Thanksgiving dinner cooking in the oven. This year's Thanksgiving wasn't in my own kitchen,
but I'm including it anyway. We enjoyed preparing, cooking, smelling, and eating all the traditional foods this year.
At the end of each month, many bloggers of my online acquaintance post a collection of photos and descriptions of new or newly-employed ingredients and gadgets in their kitchens. It's near the gift-giving season, so kitchen gadgets are also in the news, such as that Instant Pot (a fad since last Christmas, still going) and the "smart fork" which tells you if you are taking too many bites per minute.

Pizza: first you smell the bubbling yeast as it dissolves.
Then the dough smells so good as it rises.
Finally herbs, tomato sauce, and garlic fill the
kitchen with delicious aromas as it bakes.
In my kitchen at the moment, nothing is new. During November, I cooked almost all of our dinners, but always using ingredients and equipment that I've used before, often for many years. I made a pumpkin stuffed with wheat berries for dinner guests who don't eat meat. I baked pizza from scratch (shown at right). I pan-fried steak; made tuna salad; toasted some cheese sandwiches; concocted chili from leftover meatloaf; and made many other meals. And I enjoyed Thanksgiving Day with everyone cooking dinner in Joel and Aparna's kitchen. But nothing new! So I decided to tell you what aromas, odors, and smells are in my kitchen.

One more thing about the blogger event titled "In My Kitchen" -- some of the participants openly review items they've been "given" by manufacturers in exchange for their supposedly objective opinion. Of course they almost always like what they obtain for free, but sadly, they never say how these gifts compare with other available products. As a result, one never knows if it's worth spending actual money on them. Some of these reviews are interesting, though a few bloggers are just shills, wanting something for nothing. About those blogs that exist only to get free stuff for the bloggers: I won't even look at them!

To see about all the great new things in my blogger friends' kitchens, check the list at Sherry's blog -- link here -- she posts news about her own kitchen each month, and many other bloggers add links to their "In My Kitchen" posts. It's fun to hear about new ingredients from people around the world including Australia, the US, Wales, and other interesting places.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

New Mona Lisa Items

Sighted in the Carnegie Museum Shop: paper models of heads belonging to famous art works. Had to have the Mona Lisa head.
I'm not sure I'll be opening and assembling this.
60 minute estimate is probably way too little time!
Notice that it says 169 multi-shape polygons,
put together with tabs and slots. I could see that the
ones at the shop were taped, suggesting that
this is not a project I want to do.

A book I've been meaning to read. 

This is almost wordless Wednesday, but I didn't quite stay entirely mute.

UPDATE: I read the book by Alexander Lernet-Holenia -- amusing fictional story about Leonardo and Mona Lisa, but not particularly enlightening or historically relevant.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Happy French Toast Day!


I can't imagine why we are celebrating this, but the announcements of this "holiday" made me want French Toast.

Monday, November 27, 2017

"Bad Rabbi"

The fat guy was named Martin "The Blimp" Levi. He weighed 600 to 700
pounds, and was a sensational wrestler. You can also learn about his promoter,
who specialized in publicity for all kinds of freaks. Wow!
Suppose you want to read news items about sensational divorces and bigamy cases, bizarre sports figures, petty but colorful crimes, tales of pimps or their victims, neighborhood brawls, violent murders and family fights, religious zealots trying to force others to obey their rules, anti-religious people fighting back, or other diverse facts? You'd go right to your favorite click-bait locale on the internet, right?

Suppose you want to read about the same types of mindless and entertaining stuff that happened in Jewish Warsaw or Jewish New York in the early part of the 20th century? You can go to Eddy Portnoy's recently published book Bad Rabbi and Other Strange but True Stories from the Yiddish Press. Obviously, if you can read Yiddish, you can go find microfilms of the various Yiddish newspapers of that era for yourself, but how likely is that? I'm telling you: read Bad Rabbi! Nothing has changed except the language. And you'll enjoy the illustrations taken from the original papers.

Bad Rabbi offers all kinds of dirt that was dished by the resourceful journalists of New York and Warsaw. These stories were published alongside very serious journalism about society, politics, etc. in the Yiddish papers. Illicit lovers pushed their paramours out of windows. Fistfights broke out at ritual circumcisions, at weddings, and at other usually innocent events. A habitual criminal failed to steal a side of beef from a delivery truck because the delivery men chased him down the street. In 1929, we learn, all sorts of readers in Warsaw -- those who followed both the Yiddish and the Polish press -- were fascinated by the "Miss Judea" contest, eventually won by a girl named Zofia Oldak. A criminal who worked under the pseudonym Urke Nachalnik (meaning: "brazen master criminal") wrote a popular autobiography in 1933, and later wrote other successful works. For a while, he studied criminal lingo in documents at the pre-war version of YIVO, but he got in big trouble with his fellow criminals who thought he was betraying their secrets.

Sadly, as we read, we are often reminded of the coming fate of the Jews who stayed in Warsaw, but they didn't know what was coming. For example: "No one seemed to know what happened to Zofia Oldak. An octogenarian cousin of hers who lived near Tel Aviv said she couldn't remember if Oldak went to Australia or to Treblinka. But she was pretty sure Miss Judea ended up in one of those two places." (p. 142) And the criminal/linguist Urke Nachalnik joined the underground, tried to organize reprisals against the Nazis, and sabotaged rail lines to Treblinka. He "was eventually caught by the Germans in 1942 and as he was being led in shackles to his execution... he attacked his guard and nearby soldiers shot him to death." (p. 114) Another colorful character, it's said, "went up in smoke." Literally.

The Rabbinical divorce court in Warsaw was a popular place for journalists to uncover these sensational bits of human interest. For example, there's the story of Rivka Tsadik, who wanted a divorce because her husband didn't like her cooking: "If she cooks him potatoes and egg drop soup, he yells that he'd rather have potatoes and borsht. If she cooks him potatoes and borsht, he'd rather have potatoes and egg drop soup. In short, they start fighting and the husband eventually runs out of the house with an empty stomach." Rivka was willing to take an exam "to see if she can cook a good lunch or not." It seems that we'll never know if she passed her exam or not -- she went home to wait for the rabbis to call her back. (p. 159-160)

Bad Rabbi has lots of good blurbs by quite famous writers.

Friday, November 24, 2017

Black Friday: At the Carnegie Museum

A work of conceptual art: Mel Bochner's "Measurement: Plant (Palm) 1969."
Today we enjoyed several hours in the Carnegie Museum, where we particularly looked at the Renaissance art, the Impressionists, and quite a few rooms of modern art. The work titled "Measurement..." is made of black tape on a white wall. According to the documentation, this work exists "only as a set of directions when not on display." When it's time to display it, the directions are applied to the "architectural features of the display space."

Read it for yourself!

Besides seeing the works from the museum's very impressive permanent collections, we enjoyed two special exhibits:
Thornton Dial, detail from "The Soul of the Tiger," 1991.
Shown in the "20/20" exhibit.
  • "20/20: The Studio Museum in Harlem and Carnegie Museum of Art" which is at the museum from July 22 to December 31, 2017, described thus: "Conceived at a tumultuous and deeply divided moment in our nation’s history, 20/20 offers a metaphoric picture of America by mapping the many ways in which artists respond to the social and political conditions that shape our lives. Featuring a diverse array of makers, including many artists of color, the exhibition’s thematic sections consider our democratic ideals, histories of labor and economy, the social and physical landscapes of our country, spiritual introspection, and forms of resistance." (link)
  • "William Henry Fox Talbot and the Promise of Photography" on view from November 18, 2017 to February 11, 2018. This exhibit shows 30 works from one of the inventors of photography. Talbot invented the process of producing multiple prints from a photographic negative. We were amused that he seemed to know every possible use for photography that still exists today. He made household inventories, photos of his kids, selfies (see the photo at right), nature and landscape photos, artistic photos, and more. (link)

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Monday, November 20, 2017

How to Cook for Thanksgiving: Vintage Ads Tell Us!

My mother did make pumpkin pie with canned pumpkin and Pet milk. She also made
a stellar apple pie, which I believe my sister is going to make for us on Thursday!

McCormick has been packaging and advertising spices since 1889.
Our family dinners long ago used most of these spices. Also now!
Most of us really don't much like pumpkin pie these days.
From 1902: another brand of seasoning. I found many ads for Thanksgiving
menu items on the web and in my old magazines. Most of the ads (except
this very old one) make me think of the Thanksgiving dinners of the
past and how our tastes have changed without giving up the classics.
This ad from 1924 illustrates how long American cooks have been making sweet
potato casserole topped with marshmallows. (Actually it started quite a bit earlier!)
My aunts used to make this for Thanksgiving, but we've moved on to a more
savory sweet potato recipe with garlic, cilantro, and no added sugar.
Another random ad from the internet.
Ocean Spray canned cranberry sauce is an old-time
classic. Some time ago, I started making several cranberry
recipes from scratch instead of just slicing it up.
This ad could appear right now and no one would think anything of it.
Unless you are actually supposed to recognize the name Margaret Rudkin (google doesn't).
From our local food corporation, Chelsea Milling Company, comes the
corn muffin mix used in the Thanksgiving favorite corn casserole.
Jiffy Mixes aren't advertised much, so I didn't actually find an ad for this.
This ad really looks unappetizing -- and pathetic. Not so vintage, either.
I feel sorry for anyone who eats like this! We always make our own gravy.
I don't remember this classic green bean casserole as a family tradition,
but it sure does get a lot of attention in food histories and recipe collections.
Campbell's introduced it in 1955. It seems to have swept the Nation.
Whatever.
This ad really makes me sad, reminding me of how normal smoking once was.
My father smoked Camels for most of his life: until it was too late.