by Gil Marks
(See also Csipetke, Halke, and Paprikás)
Hungarian Dumplings (Galuska)
5 to 6 servings/about seventy-five 3-inch-long dumplings
[PAREVE, DAIRY, or MEAT]
3 cups (15 ounces) all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons salt
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
About ½ cup cold water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, butter, or schmaltz for tossing
1. In a large bowl, combine the flour and salt, make a well in the center, and pour in the eggs. Using a large wooden spoon, stir in the eggs. Gradually stir in enough water to form a dough that is sticky but holds together; a fork should just stand upright in it. (If there is too much flour, the dumplings will turn out dense and chewy.) Using a wooden spoon, beat until the dough slips off the spoon and comes away from the sides of the bowl, about 10 minutes. Cover with a kitchen towel and let stand for at least 30 minutes.
2. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil—use 1 tablespoon salt for 2 quarts water. Wet a cutting board or flat dish and spoon some of the dough on top. Using a large knife, spread the dough to a thickness of 1/8 inch. Holding the board over the pot, cut off a small slice of the dough (1 to 3 inches long and ¼ inch wide) and flick it into the boiling liquid. If the knife becomes clogged with batter and difficult to cut with, dip it in the boiling water.
3. In batches, boil until the dumplings rise to the surface, 3 to 5 minutes. Galuska swell as they cook. Continue cooking until firm and tender in the center, an additional 1 to 2 minutes. Overcooking results in mushy dumplings. Using a wire-mesh skimmer or slotted spoon, remove the dumplings and drain. Toss with the oil. Serve immediately.
Garlic
After escaping bondage in Egypt, the Israelites in the wilderness waxed nostalgic over six common foods, including shummim (garlic), an integral element of Jewish cookery from the onset.
This native of central Asia has been part of humankind's cooking from before recorded history. Garlic, along with onions and leeks, played an important role in the Sumerian and Egyptian diet five-thousand years ago. The Egyptians valued garlic so highly that they buried it in the pyramids for use in the afterlife. To be sure, some cultures, especially in America, disparaged garlic. Jewish tradition, on the other hand, maintained an exceedingly positive view of the pungent bulb. According to the Jerusalem Talmud, Ezra the Scribe decreed that garlic should be eaten on Friday night as an aphrodisiac. A passage in the Babylonian Talmud notes, "Our Rabbis taught: Five things were said of garlic: It satiates, it warms the body, it brightens one's face, it increases semen, and it kills intestinal parasites. Some say that it fosters love and removes jealousy." In addition, the Talmud relates: "Wherewith does one show delight in the Sabbath? With beets [the greens], a large fish, and garlic." All three of these items were considered to be aphrodisiacs, and Friday night a traditional time of sexual relations.
Nevertheless, garlic's basic importance to Jews was as a seasoning. Historically, the addition of garlic was among the typical Jewish touches that enhanced local dishes. In many cultures, the presence of garlic marked a dish as Jewish. Europeans frequently used garlic in anti-Semitic caricatures, a practice dating back to the time when some ancient Romans contemptuously referred to Jews as "garlic eaters," a term the Talmud conversely took as a compliment. Ashkenazim added garlic to everything from sausages (e.g., knobelwurst) to dill pickles. As Sholem Aleichem described in his tale "What Kind of Rabbi We Have" (1915), "You could smell the roast all over the house, it had so much garlic in it. A roast like that, with fresh warm [challah] braid, is a delicacy from heaven."
The poor, unable to afford imported spices, relied on this pungent bulb to break the monotony of food, while those better off understood its role in contributing layers of flavor in dishes with other seasonings. Romanians, in particular, are renowned for their profuse use of garlic in a wide variety of dishes. Garlic is essential for a vast array of Mediterranean sauces, soups, and salads. However, many Sephardim who settled in Asia adopted the local Muslim aversion to garlic, so it was less popular in Turkey and widely disregarded in Persia.
Historically, garlic was considered a health food and associated with medicine as well as gastronomy— before the twentieth century, there was a fine line dividing the two. Hippocrates as well as the Talmud recommended it as a cure for a variety of ailments. In 1858, Louis Pasteur proved that garlic could kill bacteria in laboratory dishes. Among garlic's principal assets are sulfur compounds that act as antibiotics and antifungal agents. Today, research has begun to justify its status, including its role as a possible antioxidant. The only side effect of this bulb is a garlicky odor in breath and sweat.
A medieval Sephardic folk belief was that garlic protected against the evil eye (ojo kui/mal ojo); this superstition may be based on garlic's antibacterial properties, as well as the similarity of the Ladino word for garlic (ajo) to eye. Because of this belief, garlic was placed under a pillow or in a child's pocket to ward off the spirits. After complimenting a child or commenting on another's good fortune, a person would ward off the evil eye by saying, "Al ajo ke se le vaiga." (Let it go to [be absorbed by] the garlic). Some Ashkenazim also viewed garlic (knobel in Yiddish) as a defense against the evil eye; accordingly, bulbs sometimes appeared on a tray alongside the infant at a brit or Pidyon HaBen (redemption of the first born son).
Gebrochts
According to the Talmud and all early rabbinic sources, matza that comes into contact or is saturated with any liquid, known as matza sheruyah (soaked matza), is permitted for consumption during Passover. Nevertheless, in the late eighteenth century, Chasidim began to use the Yiddish term gebrochts (broken) as a synonym for matza that has come into contact with a liquid and to forbid its consumption during Passover, except on the eighth day. This precluded many iconic Ashkenazic dishes, including matza knaidlach (dumplings), matza chremslach (pancakes), and matza kugel. Some Chasidic groups even eat matza in such a manner as to avoid dropping any crumbs on the table or the floor lest they come into contact with a liquid. These stringencies are not followed by Sephardim, Mizrachim, or most non-Chasidic Ashkenazim. Indeed, many Lithuanian rabbis at the time of the emergence of this custom ate matza ball soup on Passover to demonstrate that there is no restriction. Chasidic Passover recipes are non-gebrochts, (made without matza) frequently necessitating the substitution of potato starch for matza.
Gedempte Fleisch
Gedempte fleisch is pot-roasted beef.
Origin: Germany
Other names: gedempte brust.
In the several centuries following the Black Death (1348—1350), including the demise of more than a third of the farmers, western and central Europe experienced an unprecedented meat surplus, as much of the farmland lay fallow and was turned to grazing. Ashkenazim in Germany and Austria became accustomed to celebrating the Sabbath and festivals with beef. Unlike Sephardim and Mizrachim, who typically cooked meat as small pieces as a flavoring agent in a larger dish, Ashkenazim more frequently followed the European manner of cooking large, whole cuts of meat. This unusual situation of plentiful, relatively inexpensive meat ended around 1550, yet afterwards, the Ashkenazic predilection for beef remained. In addition, in eastern Europe, meat was usually an extravagance and large cuts were primarily enjoyed only by the wealthy or on special occasions.
The favorite Ashkenazic way of preparing a chuck roast or brisket was slow-simmering it in a covered pot set over a fire, creating the Yiddish equivalent of pot roast. In Yiddish and German, gedempte fleisch translates as "steamed meat," and gedempte brust as "steamed brisket." Sweet-and-sour versions are known as essig fleisch. A version made with beet vinegar is rosl fleisch. Germans, to forestall rotting or salvage minimally spoiled meat, occasionally pickled roasts in vinegar, making a dish called sauerbraten. The flavorful cooking liquid, which was frequently served with noodles as a first course, is known as yoykh (broth) or rosl, the same name used for beet vinegar.
Although the concept of browni
ng a large piece of meat then slowly simmering it in a relatively small amount of liquid in a covered vessel dates back to antiquity, the term "pot roast" was first recorded in 1881, in All Around the House, or, How to Make Home Happy by Mrs. H. W. Beecher. Shortly thereafter, it first appeared in a Jewish source, Aunt Babette's (1889). Around that time in America, large cuts of beef, especially the tasty and economical chuck roast, became a regular Sabbath dish and, in some households, were commonly eaten during the week; the meat was typically served with potatoes or kasha and pickles.
Gedempte fleisch was traditionally cooked with onions, garlic, and sometimes potatoes and carrots. The Sinatra Celebrity Cookbook: Barbara, Frank & Friends (1996) included singer Neil Diamond's recipe for his mother Rose's "Gedempte Fleish," seasoned with packaged onion soup mix (instead of fresh onions) and ketchup, which were common additions beginning in the mid-twentieth century (turning the dish into sort of a mock rosl fleisch). Sometimes cooks flavored the meat with other American ingredients, including cranberries or cola. Many, however, prefer the simplicity of old-fashioned gedempte fleisch, an enduring comfort food.
(See also Beef, Brisket, and Sauerbraten)
Ashkenazic Pot Roast (Gedempte Fleisch)
6 to 8 servings
[MEAT]
1 (3½- to 5-pound) boneless beef chuck, chuck-eye, or shoulder roast
3 tablespoons vegetable oil or schmaltz
2 medium yellow onions, sliced
1 cup chopped carrots
1 cup chopped celery
1 to 2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon paprika
1 sprig fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried thyme, marjoram, or basil
2 tablespoons tomato paste or 2 teaspoons sugar (optional)
2 cups chicken broth or water, or 1 cup chicken broth and 1 cup beef broth or dry red wine
1 bay leaf
About 1½ teaspoons table salt or 1 tablespoon kosher salt
About ¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
1. Pat the roast dry with paper towels. In a large pot or roaster with a tight-fighting lid, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Place the roast in the pot and cook, turning frequently, until it is browned—but not blackened—on all sides, about 20 minutes. Remove the roast from the pot.
2. Reduce the heat to medium, add the onions, carrots, and celery, and sauté until softened and lightly colored, about 15 minutes. Add the garlic, paprika, and thyme and stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds. If using, stir in the tomato paste and cook until slightly darkened, 2 to 3 minutes.
3. Add the broth and stir to remove any browned particles from the bottom of the pot. Add the bay leaf. Return the beef and any accumulated juices. If necessary, add enough water to reach halfway up the sides of the roast. Cover and bring to a simmer on top of the stove.
4. Place in a 325°F oven or simmer over a low heat, turning every 30 minutes, until fork-tender, 3½ to 4 hours. The roast may be prepared up to 2 days in advance, cooled, covered, and stored in the refrigerator before reheating.
5. Remove from the heat and let stand for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, strain the cooking liquid, pressing out the solids. Boil the liquid in the pot over high heat until reduced to about 1½ cups, about 10 minutes. Season with the salt and pepper.
6. Slice the meat against the grain and transfer to a warmed serving platter. Serve with the cooking liquid.
Gefilte Fish
Gefilte fish is ground, boned fish that is stuffed back into the fish skin or formed into quenelles or a loaf, then poached and served cold.
Origin: Germany
Other names: filled fish; Hebrew: dag memula.
"The old woman was meek and timorous. And quiet as a mouse. But in her gefilte fish (and in her fingers that prepared the samovar) lay (the history of the Jewish people), a true history with a hefty dash of peppery passion." (From an essay in Reports from Petersburg, 1918 by Ukrainian journalist and author Isaac Babel)
Fish, a symbol of fertility and blessing, has been traditional Sabbath and festival fare since at least Talmudic times. However, among the prohibited forms of creative work on the Sabbath is borer (to select/sort), meaning to separate undesirable items from desirable ones. Therefore a person can remove the edible flesh from the bones on the Sabbath, but may not pick the inedible bones from the flesh. Since much of the fish in the Middle East was particularly bony, removing the flesh from the bones before the Sabbath was a practical way of preparing it. Fish forcemeat dishes continued in numerous forms in many Jewish communities, including the Sephardic albondigas de pescado (fish balls in a savory sauce) and empanadas de pescado (fish turnovers), and the Italian polpettine (fish balls). Beginning in the fourteenth century, Franco-German rabbis discussed the permissibility of adding vinegar—which cooks the flesh—to chopped-up fish on the Sabbath.
Ancient Romans loved to skin animals, chop the flesh, and stuff it into the skin before cooking. Medieval German and French cooks in upper-class households retained this practice with pike, perch, and other large freshwater fish. The first medieval record of this fish dish, gefuelten hechden (stuffed pike), was in a non-Jewish source in southern Germany around 1350, in the oldest German cookbook, Daz Buoch von Guoter Spise (The Book of Good Food). The dish was popular among upper-class Catholics during Lent and other days when meat was forbidden. The stuffing consisted of poached and mashed fish flavored with sage, caraway seeds, saffron, salt, and pepper. After being stuffed, the fish was set on a wooden grill and roasted. Shortly thereafter, recipes for stuffed fish, in which the flesh was typically mixed with ground almonds and saffron, appeared in French manuscripts of recipes for the gentry.
Forty million Americans first learned about gefilte fish and many other Ashkenazic foods from The Goldbergs TV show and the companion cookbook.
Stuffed whole fish eventually emerged in medieval German-Jewish cookery and was known in Yiddish as gefilte fish, meaning "filled/stuffed." Originally, the bones were discarded and the flesh was carefully removed from the fish, chopped, mixed with matza meal or bread (which acted as a binder as well as stretching the dish) and onions (as both a flavoring and preservative), seasoned, and stuffed into the skin; the fish was then sewn up and roasted. Eventually, cooks began to poach the stuffed fish. In this way, a small fish or even just the stuffed skin could feed a large family.
By the sixteenth century, the process was simplified by some Ashkenazic cooks in Germany who eliminated the tedious stuffing step and, instead, poached the fish mixture as quenelles in a fish broth, called fish yukh or yoykh in Yiddish, which was made from the head and bones. The result was a light, flavorful fish dumpling far different from the heavy, rather tasteless commercial kind prevalent today. The stock was either served warm as a soup or cooled and jellied and offered with the fish. However, the stuffed-skin version remained commonplace in many households well into the twentieth century.
In western and central Europe, gefilte fish was never the most popular Sabbath fish. That position was long held by the various types of fish gelee (jellied fish), including suz-und-sauer fish (sweet-and-sour fish) and scharfe fish (poached fish in egg-lemon sauce). On the other hand, after gefilte fish, both stuffed and quenelles, reached eastern Europe by at least the seventeenth century, shortly after the popularization of the imported carp, these preparations soon emerged as the most widespread forms of Sabbath fish in much of Poland, the Baltic States, Hungary, and Ukraine. The success of gefilte fish was partially because the added onions and other fillers stretched limited resources. In addition, the predominant fish used, carp, is filled with numerous tiny bones, and gefilte fish eliminated the potential of the forbidden borer (separating the bones from poached carp steaks) on the Sabbath. Impoverished families that could not afford a fish would obtain fish skins and perhaps some bones given away free by fishmongers, then stuff the skins with bread crumbs and whatever else was available, sometimes without even a little fish flesh. Using a skin also meant that the dish could be held together in the poaching liquid without adding an
y eggs, another expense. The head of the household, the grandfather or in his place, the father, along with a slice of fish, was customarily served the fish head, which was considered the tastiest part of the fish, as a symbol of his status.
The term gefilte fish seems not to have been applied to fish quenelles in Germany, where it denoted only the actual stuffed skins, but rather to have been picked up as a term for quenelles in eastern Europe and then in America, as masses of eastern European Jews immigrated toward the end of the nineteenth century. Consequently, early Jewish mentions of poached fish forcemeat in English, almost all from German roots, never mention the term gefilte fish. Poached fish patties were called "Stewed-Fish Balls" in the first American Jewish cookbook, Jewish Cookery (1871) by Esther Levy, who was of German heritage. In the British cookbook An Easy and Economical Book of Jewish Cookery (1874) by Mrs. Estella Atrutel, cook to the Lionel Rothschild family, they were called "Stewed Fish Balls with Egg Sauce." The term "gefullte fisch" first appeared in print in English in 1892 in a description of Jewish cookery in Children of the Ghetto, a tale of Jewish life in London by Israel Zangwill, the son of Russian immigrants.
The initial edition of The Settlement Cook Book (1901), the classic American cookbook by Lizzie Kander, also from a German background, offered only generic poached "Filled Fish" and "Fish Balls." By the 1943 edition, the work contained "Filled Fish (Gefüllte Fish)." Directions were provided for both a poached and baked filled whole fish and, in addition, a recipe was given for poached quenelles called "Lincoln House Fish Balls", which the 1965 edition admits are "Gefillte Fish." Another early twentieth-century American cookbook, The Neighborhood Cook Book (1912) by the Council of Jewish Women in Portland, Oregon, called poached quenelles "Gefullte Fish." But soon, the spelling "gefilte" was widespread.
