by Gil Marks
There are also foods traditionally avoided on Rosh Hashanah. Eastern Europeans eschew nuts, as well as any sour food, even sweet-and-sour dishes. In North Africa, black foods, a color associated with mourning—including olives, raisins, eggplant, coffee, and chocolate—are banned, although some permit these items on the second day. Iraqi Jews avoid fish, since its Hebrew name dag is similar to the Hebrew da'ag (to worry).
Rosl
Nobel laureate Saul Bellow, in a May 18, 1983 New York Times interview by Mimi Sheraton reminisced about the dishes made by his mother from Riga, Latvia: "She pickled many foods, and there were always big crocks around with things like pickled beets, from which she made the special borscht called Russell." In fifteenth century Poland, the Slavic term rosól first meant salt brine. Eastern European Jews eventually adopted it into Yiddish as rosl, also spelled rosel, rossel, and russel; the Yiddish meaning of the word, which varied from place to place, included a gravy and any sour liquid (e.g., pickle juice and herring brine), and in some locales it specifically denoted a fermented beet liquid that was a vibrantly red vinegar due to its high amount of acid.
For most of history, people grew beets for their nutritious leaves, generally ignoring the thin yellowish roots. During the late medieval period, European farmers began breeding beets with larger roots and deeper color; the common red beetroot first appeared in the early sixteenth century in either northern Italy or southern Germany. During the course of the next century, the beet spread to eastern Europe, becoming one of several root vegetables in that area that were easy to grow and could be stored throughout the winter. Shortly before the arrival of the beet, nomadic Tartars and Turks brought the technique of lacto-fermentation from China to eastern Europe, where it was adopted by the Slavs and by eastern European Jews from the Baltic to Romania, engendering sauerkraut, pickled cucumbers, and rosl beets. In this process, acidifying bacteria found naturally in raw beets (or cabbage or cucumbers) feed off the sugar in the vegetables producing lactic acid and acetic acid, which gives the vegetables and brining liquid a characteristic tangy yet mellow taste, and slightly softens them. When working properly, the beneficial bacteria prevent deleterious microorganisms from spoiling the beets.
After the fall harvest, beets were stashed in a root cellar throughout the autumn and winter. Around the week after Purim, most of the remaining beets, their flavor faded, were peeled, cut up, placed in a large earthenware crock, topped with water (no salt was added), covered with a tablecloth, and left near the stove or another warm place to ferment for about four weeks. When the liquid had transformed into a clear, bright red, enticingly pungent vinegar with a winy aroma, the crock was moved to a cool, dark cellar to stop the fermentation. Some families cherished rosl so much that they made batches both in the autumn around Sukkot, along with barrels of small cucumbers and sauerkraut, and in the early spring before Passover.
Rosl, either the vinegar and/or the beets (rosl burik), was added to soups, kugels, horseradish, and other traditional dishes. The fermented beets were frequently substituted for fresh beets in dishes such as eingemachts (preserves) and borscht. In Ukraine and southern Poland, rosl was used as the cooking liquid for pot roast and other meats; these dishes were called roslfleisch.
The first edition of The Settlement Cook Book (Milwaukee, 1901) included a recipe for "Rosel, Beet Vinegar," explaining "This is used as a vinegar during Easter or Pesach and to make beet soup, Russian style." The same recipe was still found in the 1976 edition, although the title had changed to "Beet Vinegar (Rosel)." However, by the time of the later edition, rosl's usage in the American Jewish community had seriously declined, although it was still prepared in a few households for Passover.
(See also Beet, Borscht, Eingemacht, and Essig Fleisch)
Russian Fermented Beets (Rosl Burik)
about 8 cups liquid and 4 cups beets
[PAREVE]
5 pounds (1 peck) beets, peeled and cubed
Cold spring water (do not use chlorinated or hard water)
1. Place the beets in a sterilized 1-gallon earthenware or glass crock and add enough spring water to reach 2 inches above the beets. Tie a layer of cheesecloth over the top to keep out any dust. Cover loosely and leave in a warm, dark place to ferment.
2. A white foam should appear on the surface after about 10 days—skim it off, then stir the beets, repeating every week or so. Make sure the beets are always covered with liquid. If the fermentation process is working properly, each week the cloudy liquid will grow a darker shade of pink and, when the beets are ready in about 3 to 4 weeks, the liquid will have turned a clear, deep wine red. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.
Rugelach
Rugelach is a crescent-shaped, filled sweet pastry.
Origin: Central Europe
Other names: beyglech, kipfel, rugala, rugelech, rugelekh.
In the 1994 movie Quiz Show, set in 1957, a Harvard Law School graduate working for the Congressional Oversight Committee visits the home of an obviously Jewish character to discuss a corrupt game show, and the Jewish host, upon offering his guest rugelach, starts to explain what it is. The lawyer interjects, "I'm familiar with rugelach," revealing his Jewishness at a time when few outside the Jewish community knew what rugelach were, and when Harvard, like most other American schools, had a quota system that allowed only a small number of Jews to be admitted. Within a few decades, almost every American had heard of rugelach, another Jewish food that became prominent in the American mainstream.
Rugelach, arguably today the best known and most popular of all Ashkenazic baked goods in America, is a cross between a pastry and a cookie; it consists of tender, flaky dough coiled with a sweet filling. Rugelach is actually a mid-twentieth-century American adaptation of one of the hallmarks of central European baking, the crescent-shaped kipfel. The original kipfel was made from a rich yeast dough; Jewish renderings were typically pareve so they could be served for dessert on the Sabbath and holidays after a meat meal.
The origin of the name rugelach is unknown, but may derive from the Yiddish word rog (corner) or the Slavic rog (horn) with the diminutive plural lakh, hence either "little corners," as they are made from rolled up corners of dough, or "little horns," denoting the pastry's curved shape. The word may even be a Yiddishized contraction of the English term "rolled things."
The first record of the word rugelach was only in 1941 in The Jewish Home Beautiful by Betty D. Greenberg and Althea O. Silverman (New York), in a recipe entitled "Crescents or Rugelach." This version consisted of a yeast dough enriched with sour cream and eggs. The authors explained, "Here is a raised dough recipe minus the bogey of countless hours of rising and endless kneading. The method is not traditional; in fact, it is quite modern, but as long as the finished product is just like mother's, does it matter?"
Not only the name, but the nature of the dough changed in twentieth-century America. The first edition of The Settlement Cook Book (Milwaukee, 1901) provided a recipe for a traditional European-style yeastless pastry crescent made from flour, butter, sour cream, and egg yolks entitled "Sour Cream Kipfel," as well as a cottage cheese adaptation without eggs called "Vienna Kipfel." In America, Jewish grandmothers and mothers-in-law commonly baked batch after batch of unleavened rugelach—the dough was easier to make and remained fresher longer than yeast pastries—and then taught their techniques to future generations. The first known record of a cream cheese rugelach, a popular American innovation, was in The Perfect Hostess by Mildred O. Knopf (New York, 1950), who accredited the recipe to Nela Rubenstein, wife of noted pianist Arthur Rubenstein. Within a decade or so, the name rugelach would almost totally supplant kipfel among American Jews and Israelis.
Cream cheese pastry emerged as the underpinning of the great American rugelach; the rich, flavorful pastry balanced the sweet filling. Typical rugelach dough is made from only a few ingredients—flour, cream cheese, butter, and salt—although some versions include a little sugar or egg yolks. American bakers came u
p with various alternatives to cream cheese, substituting softened ice cream or pareve tofu ice cream and margarine. In addition to the original cinnamon and raisin filling, numerous other flavor variations developed, most notably chocolate, apricot, and raspberry. Also, as rugelach attained popularity in America, many commercial producers replaced the traditional crescent with the square-cut, which was easier to prepare and allowed for a greater concentration of filling in the center. However, whereas cream cheese dough predominates in the United States, Israeli rugelach are still commonly pareve and made with a yeast dough, and sometimes even paired with a savory filling, such as olives. Cream cheese rugelach have only recently begun to appear in England.
Rugelach became a traditional Hanukkah and Sha- vuot treat; it was also served at various dairy celebrations, such as brits and baby namings, and at sisterhood meetings. In the 1980s, rugelach began spreading to the American mainstream and an increasing number of commercial bakeries, some of them not Jewish, began mass production. By the time of Baking with Julia (1996), a television show and accompanying book by Julia Child, rugelach were among the treats prepared for her by top American bakers. Also by the end of the twentieth century, rugelach were common in American bakeries, groceries, gourmet stores, and coffee shops.
(See also Cheese, Cream; and Kipfel)
Ashkenazic Cookie Crescents (Rugelach)
32 large, 48 medium, or 64 small cookies
[DAIRY]
Cream Cheese Dough:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter or margarine, softened
1 cup (8 ounces) cream cheese, softened
1 tablespoon sour cream
½ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla or almond extract (optional)
2 cups (10 ounces) all-purpose flour, sifted
1 cup jam, such as apricot or raspberry, or ¼ cup (½ stick) melted butter
½ cup sugar mixed with 1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¾ cup dried currants or raisins (optional)
Egg wash (1 large egg beaten with 1 teaspoon water or milk)
About 2 tablespoons sugar, or 2 tablespoons sugar mixed with 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, for sprinkling
1. To make the dough: In a large bowl, beat together the butter, cream cheese, and sour cream until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add the salt and, if using, sugar and vanilla. Gradually beat in the flour. Divide the dough into 4 equal pieces, form into balls, flatten into 1-inch-thick rounds, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 6 hours or overnight.
2. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper or use ungreased sheets.
3. Let the dough stand at room temperature until malleable. On a lightly floured surface (or a surface sprinkled with cinnamon-sugar), roll out each dough piece to a 1/8-inch-thick round, about 9 inches in diameter. Brush with jam and sprinkle with cinnamon- sugar, leaving a ½-inch border around the edge. If using, sprinkle with the currants.
4. Cut each round into equal wedges—12 for medium cookies, 8 for large cookies, or 16 for small cookies. Starting from the wide end, roll up the wedges toward the point and gently bend to form a crescent.
5. Place the crescents on the prepared baking sheets, pointed side down, 1 inch apart. Brush with the egg wash and sprinkle lightly with the sugar.
6. Bake until golden, 20 to 25 minutes. Let the cookies stand until firm, about 1 minute, then transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days or in the freezer for up to 3 months.
Rye
"Do not make a stingy sandwich; pile the cold cuts high. Customers should see salami comin' through the rye." (Lyrics from the 1962 song parody, "Don't Buy the Liverwurst," by humorist Alan Sherman.)
Rye probably originated in south central Europe, Armenia, or Turkmenistan, regions where wild species still grow, and was perhaps first domesticated around 1000 BCE in northern Europe. This grain was unknown in ancient Israel, Egypt, and early Rome. For a long time, it was considered an undesirable weed in most areas. The first written record of rye cultivation was by Pliny the Elder (c. 77 CE), who noted that secale was grown around the Alps, while also disparaging it as "a very poor food and good only to avert starvation." As late as Talmudic times, rye was not a cultivated crop anywhere in the Middle East.
Despite rye's poor reception in southern Europe and absence in most of the rest of the Old World, its usage proliferated throughout the northern section of the continent and into Russia due to its ability to grow in colder climates and under poor conditions. Another important reason for rye's dissemination in the cooler parts of Europe was its weedlike tendency to spread. In wheat fields, farmers were unable to weed it out. As a result, when wheat was grown in northern Europe, it was typically harvested with rye, then the seeds were planted together or ground into flour together; this combination of flours was called maslin in English and sitnice or shitnitse in Yiddish. Maslin was the primary form of flour in northern Europe until well into the nineteenth century. Rye was also sometimes ground, on purpose, with barley or split peas. Even in Romania, the most southern stretch of Ashkenazic culture, where corn has long been the predominant grain, rye and maslin still today constitute about 20 percent of the diet. Consequently, rye was unfamiliar to most Sephardim and Mizrachim, while omnipresent for Ashkenazim.
For millennia, the residents of northern Europe subsisted off of breads made from rye leavened with a rye starter called roshtshine. For a special treat, the same rye dough, but with more water, was used to make pancakes called roshtshine latkes, which were typically topped with a dollop of sour cream or pat of butter. Most Polish towns had at least one Jewish bakery, which sold its own wares to both Jews and non-Jews and also allowed housewives to bake homemade loaves for a small remuneration. Commercial bakers' rye loaves were usually large rounds or ovals weighing fifteen to twenty-five pounds; these were baked for the lengthy time of four to six hours, then sold in pieces by weight. A distinctive Jewish technique was to sift some of the rye flour to remove the bran, then mix this finer, lighter flour with water to make a glaze called kharmushke, which was rubbed over the top of the unbaked loaves. The result of this practice was that the crusts of the Jewish loaves were lighter in color than the blackened crusts of their non-Jewish neighbors. Malted rye grains and rye bread were also fermented to make the most widespread alcoholic beverage in eastern Europe, an acidic, mildly alcoholic beer, kvas.
The traditional European way to darken rye bread, as well as enhance the flavor and increase moistness, was to use an altus or alte brot (old bread). This was made from soaked, mashed, stale sour rye bread. In America, molasses or caramel color is typically added to most mass-produced rye loaves to darken the color and mask the high wheat content.
Today, rye, the last in rank in production among the world's primary grains, is mainly used for three purposes: whiskey, flour, and livestock feed. There are four basic grades of rye flour—light, dark, medium, and pumpernickel. Light rye contains no bran and is therefore very pale in color. Dark rye contains all the bran, so its flavor and color are more intense. Medium rye is a mixture of light and dark rye flours. Pumpernickel is a dark rye with added bran.
Caraway seeds (kimmel) and nigella are commonly added to Jewish rye bread, imparting a bit of spice. In most Jewish bakeries, the generic term "rye bread" refers to a loaf containing seeds, while loaves without caraway are identified as "seedless." The seeds are mixed into the dough and sometimes also sprinkled on top.
For the Sabbath and festivals, Ashkenazim would somehow scrounge up the funds to bake challah from wheat, even if very small loaves. During the rest of the week, most families subsisted on kornbroyt (rye containing all the germ and bran along with varying amounts of wheat) or schwarzbroyt (black bread), a coarse, dark rye bread with little or no wheat. The eastern Yiddish word for rye is korn and, therefore, Jewish rye bread in America is sometimes called "corn bread" or "corn rye." A round, tal
l rye loaf is called tzitzl, from the Yiddish meaning "breast." In eastern Europe, broyt ("bread" in Yiddish), without any other description, meant rye bread. Rye bread was among the zoyers (sours), such as pickles and sour cream, ubiquitous in eastern Ashkenazic meals, providing essential nutrition as well as enlivening the diet. Classic rye bread was not used in Europe for sandwiches, but rather slices or hunks were simply schmeared with schmaltz or butter or eaten along with other foods, such as herring, cheese, or slices of meat. A favorite Ashkenazic treat was rye bread spread with chopped liver and topped with retachlich (black radish salad with onions and schmaltz).
In the United States, from the mid-nineteenth century, German, Polish, and Jewish bakeries always featured rye breads. Sour rye, with a tangy flavor derived from a rye starter, now commonly known in America as Jewish rye, is basically a typical Polish bread made from rye and wheat. Rye became the foundation of the American delicatessen sandwich—it was ideal not only for cold cuts, but also for egg salad and fish salad. A popular deli food in Montreal, Canada, is karnatzel (grilled beef sausages, not the garlicky Romanian type) with mustard on rye—a Jewish hamburger.
This memorable ad campaign helped popularize Jewish rye bread across the United States.
Beginning in 1919, the kitchens of Grossinger's Hotel in the Catskill's, under the supervision of matriarch Jennie Grossinger, became famous for classic haimish (Jewish comfort) foods, including their signature rye bread. In 1954, the General Baking Company of Brooklyn purchased from the Grossinger family the right to sell bread under its name. On each wrapper was Jennie's smiling face, along with a label declaring the bread had been made using "the authentic formula from the kitchen of Jennie Grossinger." In order to have slices of the same size, more compatible with sandwiches, the shape of prepackaged rye loaves changed—they were made from larger oblong loaves that were split into one-pound sections and presliced. Jennie's rye bread and pumpernickel lived on after her death in 1972 and even after the resort was shut fourteen years later. The popularization of Jennie's bread helped to spread Jewish rye to the American mainstream, as well as perpetuate and reinforce the image of the Jewish mother as the loving, supportive provider of food and encouragement.