by Nick Zukin
Bernamoff and Cohen are a handsome young couple who met as students at McGill University. She’s a dark-haired New Yorker with glasses and an easy smile. He’s a Montreal native, tall and voluble. Bernamoff decided to move beyond cooking as a hobby and become a deli owner after disillusionment with law school and the prospect of a typecast career and lifestyle. Cohen didn’t see herself joining the business, but that changed when the recession of 2008 dealt a hammer blow to her museum job.
Once Bernamoff got his smoked meat recipe down and was able to rent “the cheapest location I could find,” Mile End opened in 2010 with no thought about Jewish deli revivalism. The philosophical piece has come in hindsight. He explains that he wants to “expose Jewish cooking and demonstrate Jewish culture in a non-nostalgic way.” Cohen is even more succinct. The goal at Mile End, she says, is to “honor the craft of Jewish cookery.”
Chinese Broccoli
Serves 3 or 4
Secular American Jews have long had an affinity for Chinese food, perhaps because Chinese restaurants tended historically to be the only ones open on Sundays and major Christian holidays. In a tongue-in-cheek nod to the longstanding Jewish-Chinese culinary association, our friends from Mile End Deli in New York City created this recipe and passed it along to us. It combines a multitude of ingredients most easily sourced from an Asian grocery store. The beef salami adds a bit of protein and an unmistakable Jewish deli attitude to the sturdy stalks of Chinese broccoli. As an alternative, substitute pastrami for the salami. As unfamiliar as it might be, we think our forebears would approve.
1 pound Chinese broccoli (kai-lan or gai-lan), trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons canola or other neutral oil
1 teaspoon minced fresh ginger
1 teaspoon minced fresh garlic
1 teaspoon minced shallots
¼ cup finely chopped beef salami
Kosher salt
½ cup Homemade Chicken Broth or canned low-sodium chicken broth
2 tablespoons hoisin sauce
1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
1 teaspoon chili sauce (preferably sriracha)
2 large eggs
1 cup fresh croutons, preferably from challah
Korean chili flakes or crushed red pepper (optional)
Store-bought pickled carrot rounds (optional)
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Have ready a large bowl of ice water, along with tongs or a slotted spoon. Cook the broccoli until it turns bright green but is still very crisp, about 1½ minutes. Immediately transfer the broccoli to the ice water to stop the cooking. As soon as it is cool, transfer to a plate lined with a double thickness of paper towels and blot completely dry.
Heat a wok or large sauté pan over high heat. When the pan is hot, add 2 tablespoons of the oil. Quickly add the ginger, garlic, and shallots. Using a wok spatula or large wooden spoon, stir-fry the aromatics just until fragrant, 10 seconds. Immediately add the salami and stir-fry until the salami begins to crisp, about 20 seconds. Carefully add the broccoli to the pan along with a pinch of salt. Stir-fry for 30 seconds. Add the chicken broth, hoisin sauce, vinegar, and chili sauce. Stir-fry to evenly coat the broccoli. Continue to cook until the sauce is reduced and thickened, about 1 minute. Taste the sauce and add another pinch of salt, if desired. Remove from the heat and keep warm.
Place a small frying pan over medium-high heat and add the remaining 2 teaspoons oil. Fry the eggs until the whites have just coagulated and the yolks are warm and runny.
Scatter the croutons evenly on the bottom of a warm bowl or deep platter. Using a slotted spoon, arrange the broccoli over the top. Spoon the sauce evenly over the top. Carefully place the fried eggs on top of the broccoli. Garnish with chili flakes, if desired. Serve warm along with pickled carrots, if desired.
Chopped Chicken Liver
Serves 6
In the Slavic shtetls of Eastern Europe, 150 years before “nose-to-tail eating” became a mantra among big-name chefs, full utilization of animals was driven by dietary necessity rather than political economy. Chopped chicken livers—chopped liver for short—have been part of the Ashkenazic diet going back to the sixteenth century. Traditionally enriched with schmaltz, chopped liver has been a stalwart on Jewish delicatessen menus and American Passover tables since the late 1800s. You may substitute oil, shortening, or butter for the schmaltz, though the taste won’t be nearly as luxurious or authentic. Use as a spread on crackers, matzo, or bread, or serve on its own with fresh or pickled vegetables.
⅓ cup plus 1 tablespoon Chicken Schmaltz
1 pound chicken livers, trimmed of connective tissue
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup Caramelized Onions
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
4 large hard-boiled eggs
1 cup chopped Gribenes (see here; optional)
Place 1 tablespoon of the schmaltz in a medium to large skillet set over medium heat. (Allow the remaining schmaltz to come to room temperature.) Add the livers, salt, and pepper to the skillet. Sauté the livers, flipping after 5 minutes, until they are just browned, about 10 minutes altogether.
Remove the pan from the heat and add the onions and vinegar, mixing thoroughly. Let cool to room temperature.
Place the eggs in the work bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade. Add the gribenes, if desired. Use three short pulses (each pulse taking about the time it takes to say “chopped liver”) to coarsely chop the eggs. Transfer the chopped eggs to a large bowl.
Add the liver and onion mixture to the food processor along with the remaining ⅓ cup schmaltz. Use four to five one second pulses to coarsely chop the liver. The liver should be chopped a bit more finely than the eggs, but not pureed, so the end result is not too dense.
Transfer the liver-onion mixture to the bowl with the eggs and fold the liver into the eggs until thoroughly combined. Season with salt to taste. Transfer to a covered container and refrigerate for up to 3 days.
Triple-Cooked French Fries
Serves 4 to 6
Yes, we know that French fries are not Jewish food. They are so popular, though, that they have found their way into modern deli culture. At Kenny & Zuke’s, they are available with nearly any sandwich and are the foundation for one of the deli’s most popular guilty pleasure foods: Kenny & Zuke’s Pastrami Cheese Fries. For this recipe, we rely on an axiom that every French fry expert worth his or her salt endorses: precooking the cut-up potatoes before immersing them in their finishing hot oil bath results in a superior French fry. These fries are cooked first in boiling water to leach away excess starch and are then fried twice. The result is crispy and nearly greaseless on the outside and creamy and fluffy inside. If you enjoy them as much as we do (with or without pastrami and cheese), consider making extra-large batches and storing some or all by following the recipe through the first frying, then freezing the potato slices on a baking sheet and storing them frozen in serving-size portions until needed.
2 pounds Russet potatoes (3 large or 4 medium)
2 tablespoons kosher salt, plus more for sprinkling
2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
Canola or peanut oil, for frying
Peel the potatoes and place them in a large bowl of ice water to keep them from discoloring while you cut individual potatoes into fries. Cut the potatoes into ¼- to ⅜-inch-thick fries, discarding any smaller pieces. (The smaller pieces can be used, but they may burn or become overly soft.) Place the fries in the ice water until ready to use.
In a 3- to 4-quart pot, bring the salt, vinegar, and 8 cups water to a boil over high heat. Add the potatoes and simmer until tender but still sturdy, 10 to 15 minutes. Using tongs or a larger skimmer, transfer the potatoes to baking sheets lined with a double thickness of pa
per towels; arrange in a single layer and allow them to dry.
Meanwhile, fill a heavy, 4-quart (or larger) pot with 3 inches of oil and heat the oil to 390°F over high heat. (For safety’s sake, it is important that the oil be no more than halfway up the pot so that when the potatoes are frying, the oil does not spill over the edge of the pot and catch on fire.) Use a large slotted spoon or wide-mesh skimmer (also known as a spider) to lower a small batch of potatoes into the oil. Do not crowd the pot. Fry for 1 minute, stirring as necessary to prevent the potatoes from sticking together. Transfer to a baking sheet lined with a double thickness of paper towels. Repeat until all the potatoes are fried. (Decrease the heat to low or turn the heat off if not immediately frying the potatoes again. Once the potatoes are cool, they can be refrigerated or frozen until ready to use.)
When ready to serve, bring the oil back to 390°F, if necessary. Fry the potatoes in small batches until crisp and golden, about 4 minutes. Using a large slotted spoon or spider, lift the potatoes from the oil, letting as much excess oil as possible drain off the potatoes and back into the pot. Transfer the fries to a large bowl and toss with a generous pinch of salt. Serve immediately, or keep warm in a low oven for no more than 10 minutes.
Kenny & Zuke’s Pastrami Cheese Fries
Serves 4 to 6
When Nick used to work the late shift soon after Kenny & Zuke’s opened, he and the cooks sometimes had a few minutes to indulge their deli food fantasies. This decadent combination of French fries, smoky pastrami, and oozy melted cheese was at first shared with envious customers who happened to notice the insider feeding frenzies, then added to the menu by popular demand. This is a great dude dish for TV sports get-togethers and other occasions when calorie counting and restraint give way to bonhomie and shameless noshing. We prefer to use Swiss cheese because it and the pastrami (with the Russian dressing dip) mimic the key components of a Reuben sandwich. Good-quality pastrami from your favorite deli or grocery store can be used in place of homemade. You may also substitute store-bought French fries; if using them, look for those that include rice flour in the ingredients, as they tend to be crispier than those without.
2 pounds freshly cooked Triple-Cooked French Fries
12 ounces Home-Oven Pastrami, cut into bite-size pieces
4 ounces Swiss cheese, grated (about 2 cups)
Russian Dressing, for dipping
Preheat the oven to 450°F.
Place half the cooked fries in a single, dense layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Top with half the pastrami and then half the cheese. Place another layer of fries on top of the first layer and top with the remaining pastrami followed by the remaining cheese.
Bake until both layers of cheese are fully melted, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a warmed serving bowl or platter and serve hot with a side of Russian dressing.
Chapter 3
The rap on Jewish deli food is that it is heavy and fatty. Some dishes fit that description, but plenty of others suit lighter, more health-conscious diets, especially the offerings we have adapted from modern Jewish deli menus that favor quality over mass quantities.
Many of the soups and salads in this chapter have been around for generations, with origins in the Slavic countries where Ashkenazic Jews once lived in large numbers. Often impoverished, the Ashkenazis who opened the original Jewish delicatessens in North America preferred filling dishes—including soups and salads—that relied on abundant, inexpensive ingredients. The Deli Health Salad is a typical Eastern European salat that would be welcome on any self-respecting New York deli table. The Russian Egg Salad returns boring picnic fare to its flavorful origins. Borscht is a prime example of Ashkenazic traditions recovered and reenvisioned. We have updated the traditional basic beet broth to reflect today’s popular and sensible seasonal eating patterns. So when the summer sun is high, our Cold Beet and Raspberry Borscht is a terrific sweet-tart treat, and at the opposite end of the seasonal spectrum, a beefy hearty winter borscht (see here) is sure to instill a warm inner glow as it fills up the fortunate diners at your table. Our Classic Chicken Salad also gets the seasonal treatment with four variations (see here and here) perfect for any time of the year.
Some popular deli dishes will never need updating. We offer two chicken soup alternatives: traditional (and filling) Matzo Ball Soup and Wild Mushroom and Kreplach Soup, each of which relies on our rich and intense Homemade Chicken Broth as a foundation. On the other hand, innovation is a calling card for today’s deli dining—and for our selection of recipes. For fun and great flavor, don’t pass on the Latke Salad. Whatever you choose, rest assured that every recipe from this chapter will keep well in the refrigerator for at least a day or two after it’s made—that is, in the unlikely event there are leftovers.
Wild Mushroom and Kreplach Soup
Serves 4
For a heartier, updated version of a basic chicken soup recipe, use this red meat–free adaptation of the more common meat-filled kreplach (see here). Our rich chicken broth gets an umami bump from earthy dried mushrooms in the broth and chopped fresh button or cremini mushrooms in the ravioli-like kreplach.
8 cups Homemade Chicken Broth or canned low-sodium chicken broth
Kosher salt
All-purpose flour, for dusting
4 ounces Dough for Kreplach, cut into 24 (2½-inch) squares
¼ cup Mushroom kreplach filling (see here)
1 ounce dried wild mushrooms (porcini, morel, chanterelle, or a mix)
1 carrot, thinly sliced
4 small tender sprigs fresh thyme
Bring the chicken broth to a simmer in a covered saucepan over medium heat. Add salt to taste and keep warm over low heat.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Lower the heat so the water just simmers.
Meanwhile, make the kreplach. Set a small bowl of water near your work space and lightly flour a baking sheet. Working with 6 to 8 squares of kreplach dough at a time, orient them on an angle into diamond-shape squares. Place ½ teaspoon of the mushroom filling in the center of each square. Dip an index finger into the water, quickly shaking off the excess. Run your finger along the outer edges on the top half of the square of dough, wetting it. Fold over the dough to make a triangle. Press the dough edges together, removing any air pockets from around the filling and sealing the edges by pressing down firmly against the work surface. Press the tines of a fork down into the edge of the pasta dough until the entire edge has been sealed with the fork. As you finish each kreplach, set it aside on the baking sheet. Repeat to fill and seal the remaining kreplach.
To cook the kreplach, gently drop the kreplach into the simmering water along with the dried mushrooms, increasing the heat to maintain a low boil. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent the kreplach from sticking to each other. Add the sliced carrot, return to a low boil, and cook for 10 more minutes.
For each serving, ladle 2 cups chicken broth into a warmed soup bowl. Add 6 kreplach and a portion of the mushrooms and carrot slices to each bowl. Garnish with a sprig of thyme.
What Are . . .
Matzo Balls?
When my teenage daughter was little, she asked a lot of questions. Mostly it was about life’s small wonders, such as magnets and sports teams’ jersey colors. With a food-obsessed father, her inquiries soon turned to culinary matters, including the strange range of breadless wonders served at our family’s annual Passover dinner.
For the uninitiated, Passover is the Jewish holiday that primarily celebrates the Israelites’ successful—and biblical rumor has it, miraculous, escape from Egypt through a divided Red Sea, eluding their unhappy Egyptian slave masters. As the story goes according to the Passover Haggadah, the Israelites were in such a big hurry that they didn’t even have time to let their bread rise, leading to the invention of matzo, cakes comprised of nothing more than flour and water, quickly baked under the glare of the desert sun.<
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To commemorate the occasion, observant Jews have for centuries eaten no leavened products during Passover. And at the traditional Passover seder—a ritualized meal and reading of the Haggadah—families eat foods that follow this dietary rule as they read the holiday story, sing, and pray. In my family, it’s always been mainly about the meal. Which brings us to matzo balls, also known as knaidlach, the Yiddish diminutive for “dumpling.”
The ever-resourceful Ashkenazis—frequently impoverished and living in climates that offered little in the way of easy sustenance—always found ways to stay full and content. The doughy dumpling filled the bill, as an accompaniment to bits of inexpensive protein and an extender of soups—a way to stretch limited food resources. Passover time was an obstacle to consuming the usual dumplings, and the matzo ball was the logical answer to the Ashkenazis’ holiday dilemma.
According to Gil Marks’s exhaustive Encyclopedia of Jewish Food, the first recorded English recipe for matzo balls was published in 1846. The ingredients were ground matzo, eggs, fat, and seasonings, plus a little onion—not all that different from current versions. Beef suet was the fat of choice in that early recipe, though schmaltz, or rendered chicken fat, is truer to the Ashkenazic tradition (and socioeconomic status), in which chickens were far more common and easier to look after than cows. As mass production of matzo meal became possible with mechanization, matzo balls in chicken soup have moved from the Passover table to become a quintessential Jewish deli dish.
This leads to the ultimate question: Which are better, matzo balls that bob buoy-like atop the chicken broth (“floaters”) or denser versions that promptly drop to the bottom of the bowl on introduction to the soup (“sinkers”). This is an endless multigenerational, interfamilial debate with no clear winner. Each type is easily enough accomplished: floaters by including more fat in the mix and using a lighter hand in forming the ball, sinkers with less fat and greater compression. Neither is objectively better—or more authentic, for that matter—than the other. As Marks sagely observes, “preference is almost always based on childhood memories” of what your mother or grandmother made. Those who lack any hereditary bias are encouraged to experiment, then join the fray.