The calendar has turned to December, and with that comes latkes. Latkes in Yiddish, levivot in Hebrew or potato pancakes in English, latkes are the traditional Ashkenazi or Eastern European food served at Chanukah in many countries outside of Israel (Israeli's eat sufganiot, a type of jelly donut). We Jews do ourselves in at this time of year eating foods made with oil. It is most masochistic, and at the same time magnificently delectable.
Latkes are incredible, if executed correctly. At their best, they are fried to a magnificent golden brown; they are lacy and crunchy on the outside and 'meaty' on the inside. Latkes are a versatile food as well. They can be served for breakfast, lunch or dinner, and any type of snack in between. For the dairy meal, they can be topped with sour cream; for a meat meal, apple sauce is usually in order. I don't know why, but some people top them with sugar. To me, this is a bastardization of what I know to be traditional, but we live in a pluralistic society, so, hey, who am I to argue. Latkes can be 'kicked up a notch' as well. In times other than Chanukah, I have seen them served as an appetizer at parties, with a dollop of flavoured cream cheese and thin slice of lox on top. It is almost impossible to not sing the praises of what could never be considered a lowly potato pancake.
One of the things I like most about latkes is, they sit in your stomach for about eight days, coincidentally corresponding with the number of days as the holiday of Chanukah itself (this, by the way in case you don't know it, is the true meaning of the Miracle of the Oil). As well as the latkes themselves remaining, so too does the smell of the oil they were cooked in. The smell gets into your pores and into your walls. It's disgusting and beautiful at the same time. It's magnificent.
I've been making latkes for decades. In the beginning, I would make them by scratch, especially with my kiddies both at home at during the 22 years I spent teaching kindergarten, but one year I got lazy, and from there, birthed my ultimate latke recipe. It is the fusion of old school (pardon the pun) and new...and here it is.
First, you will need a box of latke mix (your choice). Prepare the mix according to the box. Next, you are going to add to the mixture your favourite latke recipe from scratch. Mine is the Easy Potato Pancakes recipe from the great Norene Gilletz' yellow bible, The Pleasures of Your Processor (pg. 166). They are, to quote Mel Brooks as the 2000 Year Old Man, 'simple, yet elokvent'. However I do make one change to her recipe....with deepest respect to my facebook friend, Norene.....I grate the potatoes (and onions) by hand. It makes all the difference in the world. For a few reasons.
For some reason, when you grate potatoes by hand, the texture is slightly different, and I like that. People scoff at me all the time when I tell them that I hand grate. They say that I'm crazy and that the processor does the same, if not better job. But they don't understand. It's not just about the end result. It's about...ok...another unintended pun....the process.
It's about tradition. Granted, in my life, I've broken traditions. I've created new ones, too. But I have memories of my grandmother grating potatoes. And I have years of wonderful memories making latkes with my children. Ann Landers once advised that if you want to have meaningful conversations with your children, get them to do the dishes with you. I think the same goes for latke making. I've watched many tiny fingers attempt to grate (haven't lost a finger yet!). I've helped little hands crack eggs (I have decided that little pieces of cracked eggshell in your latkes are a good source of calcium), and held my hands over smaller ones to stir the mixture. The process is as satisfying as the end result.
So I continue to grate my potatoes by hand...and cry while I grate the onions, too. It's all about tradition.....and the oil that lasted for eight days...in my hair, my skin, and happily, in my tummy. May my kitchen produce latkes for many years to come!
No comments:
Post a Comment