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Columnist's mother left a legacy of love through her cooking of traditional Jewish dishes. |
FOR 30 YEARS my mom never said "hello" to me.
Instead, when I'd visit, she'd say, "Have you eaten?"
She'd been raised in the Bronx, N.Y., where the greeting could be taken as a welcome or as an accusation.
"There are cold cuts in the fridge," she'd say, regardless of your answer. "Or you could make yourself some lox and
Besides those options, you could always choose a fresh fruit salad with seasonal berries or the Jewish soul-food staples she and my dad relished: kosher dills, chopped liver, pickled herring, gefilte fish or--forever her fallback--frozen potato pancakes (aka latkes).
In some parts of the country corn may be king, but in my parents' household the potato reigned supreme.
As kids we enjoyed potato chips, potato sticks, potato puffs (Tater Tots), potatoes au gratin, scalloped potatoes and crinkle-cut french-fried potatoes, not to mention the mashed potatoes that came with Swanson TV-dinners. They tasted metallic, in an endearing kind
And, of course, there were those omnipresent, onion-y potato latkes. An integral part
Another thing: My mom never called her children by name. For example, my siblings, Kenneth and Karla, were "your brother" and "your sister," as in "your brother finished the brisket" or "your sister ate the last of the babka."
My mom passed away a little over a year ago, two days shy of her 74th birthday. She died at her Rockville, Md., home after a short illness, just as Thanksgiving Day 2006 was dawning.
"Thanksgiving will never be the same," I thought to myself, before it hit me: "Life itself will never be the same."
Thanksgiving was my mom's day to shine. My dad carved the turkey, my mom did everything else--from fixing a Jade-ite mixing bowl full of steaming mashed potatoes to sending everyone off with armfuls of leftovers.
I wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving '07 or any part of the holiday season. My fiancee, Elizabeth, and I went to D.C.
Once at the Mazza Gallerie, we headed straight for its famous cookware vendor. I settled on a Williams-Sonoma exclusive, an OXO Good Grips-brand food mill. Pulping fruits and vegetables would help make comforting soups, stews and sauces.
On the Metro, a young woman glanced knowingly at my new cooking gadget.
"Making mashed potatoes?" she inquired.
"Tomato sauce was the plan; I hadn't thought of potatoes," I said.
"I used to work for Williams-Sonoma," she said, explaining away her expertise.
So, curiosity piqued, I set about asking my co-workers the skinny on homemade mashed potatoes. Everyone claimed to know a secret ingredient, a special technique.
"Garlic pepper and sea salt," said one, conspiratorially. "Add heated milk and butter combined," advised another. "When you boil the potatoes, start them in cold water," counseled a third. There were lots of ways to skin a potato, it seemed.
The mill worked like a charm, ricing redskins, russets and Yukon Golds, and producing creamy mashed potatoes. Soon, I was adding things such as shallots, chives and garlic to the more common ingredients to obtain different flavors.
My dad was spending this Thanksgiving with neighbors, so Elizabeth and I visited her Aunt Carol and Uncle Kerry's spread in Spotsylvania County. Their buffet table selection rivaled that of the Golden Corral. There were relish trays, casseroles, one-pot meals and covered dishes of every description, a roasted turkey and a deep-fried one, too.
Last year, we'd ordered
Dad had done his customary carving, I set the table. Rituals were observed, but feelings of emptiness pervaded.
But at the Spotsy ranch, the young'uns were looking at cartoons while the baby boomers scrutinized Brett Favre and the Packers.
The "active adults" ringed the kitchen table, patiently answering my questions on the mashed-potato traditions of central Virginia.
"We'd take the leftovers, add some flour, egg and onions, and fry up potato pancakes in butter. Serve 'em with gravy," said Miss Arlie, a family friend and lifelong county resident.
"Oh my," she sighed, "that's old-time cookin'."
I was altogether pleased to be inspired to make homemade potato pancakes--to coincide with the Hanukkah latke season. But for mine I substituted matzo meal for the flour; peanut oil for the butter; and applesauce, of course, for the gravy.
A few weeks later, excited from a full day of shopping, my fiancee came in, breathless.
"Guess what I got for my mom, hon?" she prompted.
I stopped her right there--there was something more pressing.
"Have you eaten?" I said.
Kurt Rabin is a copy editor at The Free Lance-Star.| POTATO PANCAKES Prep time: 30 minutes Cooking time: 20 minutes Makes 4 servings (about 24 small pancakes) 2 large eggs 3 cups grated, drained all-purpose potatoes cup grated onion 1 teaspoon salt, more to taste teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 2 to 4 tablespoons matzo meal, or as needed Canola oil, for frying Applesauce and sour cream for serving (optional) Procedure: In a large mixing bowl, beat eggs lightly. Add potatoes, onion, salt and pepper, and mix well. Stir in 2 tablespoons matzo meal, and let it sit about 30 seconds to absorb moisture in batter. If necessary add more to make a thick, wet batter that is neither watery nor dry. Place a large skillet over medium heat, and add 2 tablespoons oil. When oil is hot drop in heaping cup (about 2 tablespoons) of batter, flattening them gently to make thick pancakes. When bottoms have browned, after 2 to 3 minutes, flip and brown on other side. Add oil as needed. Drain on paper towels, and sprinkle with additional salt to taste. If necessary, work in batches, keeping cooked pancakes warm. Serve hot with applesauce and sour cream, if desired. Recipe from: nytimes.com |
| BLUE COLLAR MASHED POTATOES Prep time: 30 minutes Cooking time: 10 minutes Makes 4 servings 2 pounds russet potatoes, peeled and sliced 1 inch thick (about 4 medium potatoes) Kosher salt cup milk, buttermilk or skim milk 6 tablespoons ( stick) unsalted butter Freshly ground black pepper Procedure: Place the potatoes in a large saucepan with enough salted cold water to cover. Bring to a boil over high heat, reduce the heat, and simmer until the potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes. Drain and return the potatoes to the empty pot. Cover and let stand for 5 minutes. Heat the milk and butter in a small pan over low heat until the butter is melted. Pass the potatoes through a potato ricer or a food mill fitted with the fine blade then into a bowl. Beat in the hot milk mixture and add salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot. Cook's note: Mashed potatoes can be made up to 45 minutes ahead and kept warm in a heatproof container in a warm (250 degrees) oven. Or they can be mashed up to 4 hours in advance. Turn them into a baking dish, let cool to room temperature and refrigerate, cover with aluminum foil. Reheat the potatoes, covered, in a 350 degree oven until very hot, about 35 minutes. Recipe from: "Blue Collar Food," (1994, Hearst Books) by Chris Styler and Bill Hodge. |
| MASHED RED POTATOES
Prep time: 30 minutes Cooking time: 10 minutes Makes 4 servings
12 medium red new potatoes (about 1 pounds) 4 tablespoons ( stick) unsalted butter 3 scallions, finely chopped 1 cup milk 1 tablespoon kosher salt teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Procedure: Scrub the potatoes and cut into 1-inch cubes. Place in a large saucepan and pour in enough cold water to cover by 2 inches. Bring the water to a boil over high heat, reduce the heat, and simmer, uncovered, until the potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes.
While the potatoes are cooking, heat the butter in a small saucepan over low heat. When the butter is melted, add the scallions and cook until softened, about 2 minutes. Add the milk and cook just until heated through. Remove from the heat.
Drain the potatoes and transfer to a mixing bowl. Mash with a potato masher while gradually adding the milk mixture. Stop when the potatoes are the texture you like. Check the seasoning and add more salt, pepper, or butter if desired. Serve hot. Recipe from: "Blue Collar Food," (1994, Hearst Books) by Chris Styler and Bill Hodge. |
