by Gil Marks
Beginning in the seventh century, after the Arabs discovered sugar cane during their conquest of Persia and subsequently spread it through the Muslim world, the position of honey largely dwindled in that region. Honey, however, remained the predominant sweetener of Europe for nearly another millennium. Then, with the growth of sugar plantations in the Caribbean in the seventeenth century and the advent of sugar beet factories in the nineteenth century, the use of honey in Europe markedly declined as well. Nevertheless, it maintains a traditional place in most forms of Jewish cooking.
Among Ashkenazim, honey adds a touch of sweetness to everything from stews (such as tzimmes) to desserts. Honey, representing a wish for a sweet year to come, is traditional on Rosh Hashanah, including the enduring Ashkenazic lekach (honey cake) and teiglach (honey-cooked balls of dough) and the Middle Eastern honey-soaked tishpishti (semolina cake). The most popular and widespread Rosh Hashanah tradition is the dipping of apple slices in honey while reciting the phrase, "May it be Your will to renew on us a good and sweet year." In addition, from Rosh Hashanah until after Sukkot, many households dip the first piece of challah into honey instead of the customary salt. Honey is also found in various traditional Passover foods, such as chremslach (pancakes), and in food for Shavuot, a holiday of "milk and honey." At the beginning of the twenty-first century, apiculturists in Israel produced more than thirty-five hundred tons of honey a year from ninety thousand hives.
(See also Date Honey (Devash) and Rosh Hashanah)
Horseradish
"Horseradish that does not bring a pious tear to the eye is not God's horseradish." (From Tevye the Dairyman by Sholem Aleichem.)
Horseradish, a member of the Brassicaceae family (and not a radish), is a native of eastern Europe, the area where it is still most appreciated. The fleshy white tapered root, which can reach depths of two feet, grows best in cool climates and marshy land. Its roots and leaves have long been used as medicine. The white root only becomes aromatic and fiery when cut, releasing the volatile oils in its cells. After grating, the oils and the bite, if not preserved with vinegar, noticeably fade within ten minutes and practically disappear after less than half an hour. The plant is propagated by root cuttings and even a small part of the root will grow. In some cool, moist areas, the plant is treated as a troublesome weed. However, there are more than enough horseradish lovers to make it a profitable crop.
In northern Germany, horseradish was called meer- rettich (more radish), meaning larger and more in- tense, while in the south of the country and Austria it was known as kren, a word of Slavic origin and the source of the Yiddish name chrain, also spelled khrain and khreyn. A misinterpretation of the German meerrettich as "mare radish" gave rise to the English name horseradish. The first mention of chrain in a Jewish source was in a list of ingredients used to make charoset (horseradish was not yet considered appropriate as maror, bitter herbs) by Eliezer ben Nathan of Mainz (c. 1090—1170), who spent several years living in Slavic lands. Similarly, Rabbi Eleazar ben Judah of Worms in Sefer ha-Rokeach (c. 1200) included it in his charoset ingredients.
Today, horseradish is widely identified by many Ashkenazim as the maror of the Passover Seder, but this is actually a rather late development. Horseradish was unknown in Israel in Talmudic times and was not among the five vegetables cited by the Talmud as acceptable for maror. The first recorded source in which permission was given to use horseradish for maror, but only when the preferable lettuce was unavailable, was written in the fourteenth century by Israel ben Joel Susslin of Erfurt. Subsequently, as Jews moved farther north and greens on Passover became impractical, horseradish root became a norm. The practice developed among Germans of using whole pieces of horseradish, while eastern Europeans generally insisted on grating it. Among the first to misidentify horseradish as one the Talmudic vegetables for maror was Rabbi Yom Tov Lipman Ben Nathan Heller (1579—1654) of Moravia, in his commentary on the Mishnah, Tosfot Yom Tov, who considered it to be the Talmudic tamchah. (Rashi identifies tamchah as horehound and Maimonides as a type of chicory.) This mistake subsequently became widespread among Ashkenazim. To further complicate matters, in modern Hebrew, horseradish is called chazeret, another item in the Talmudic list of acceptable maror, although in ancient times the word chazeret meant lettuce.
Horseradish root seems a most unlikely candidate for a "bitter herb," being neither bitter nor an herb. It is pungent and fiery, not bitter (harsh and acrid), a completely different sensation. Even the leaves of the horseradish possess a sharp, somewhat mustard-like taste and not a bitterness. The requirement for maror is only leaves or stalks, but, for culinary purposes, horseradish is a root. Although the top of the mature root may protrude above the ground, that does not make it a stalk. Horseradish also lacks the other characteristics for maror prescribed by the Talmud—latex sap and dull green foliage—as its leaves are dark green and contain no white sap. Moreover, the consumption of an amount of raw unprocessed horseradish, whether whole or ground, equal to a kazayit (olive) would generally prove impractical if not dangerous.
In any case, Passover was only one aspect of horseradish, for this root was an integral element in eastern European life and culture. It even turned up in a proverb about the nature of existence: "A worm living in horseradish thinks his life is sweet."
In eastern Europe, horseradish went hand in hand with gefilte fish. According to a Yiddish saying, "Gefilte fish without chrain is punishment enough." Horseradish served as a condiment for cold meats, poultry, and fish and was mixed into salads, vegetables, potatoes (boiled, mashed, and salads), sauces, kugels, and pickles. Hungarians used it to make a sauce for poached carp. Beets, beet juice, or rosl (fermented beet juice) were occasionally added to the horseradish (chrain mit burik) to mellow the taste and create a red hue. In America, some people added grated carrot instead of beets to the horseradish, producing an orange hue.
Eastern and central European immigrants brought their fondness for horseradish with them to America. The first American Jewish cookbook, Jewish Cookery (Philadelphia, 1871), included a recipe for "Horseradish Stew," which directed, "Stew three pounds of meat in a pint of water; grate one large horseradish, add it to the gravy and some fine bread crumbs, a little pepper, ginger and salt, with a cupful of the best vinegar. It is very highly recommended by all who have tasted it." Horseradish's principal use, though, was in sauces and relishes. The first edition of The Settlement Cook Book (Milwaukee, 1901) provided two recipes for "Horseradish Sauce" and two for "Beet and Horseradish Relish"—one with vinegar and a little sugar and the other with chopped raw cabbage and lots of sugar—as well as directions for adding it to herring salad and several types of pickles.
Anyone wanting to use horseradish had to grate it themselves, a tear-inducing task much worse than chopping onions. In 1869, H. J. Heinz, the son of German immigrants, started a new business outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, processing and bottling horseradish. Heinz, however, soon began to concentrate on ketchup and other condiments rather than horseradish. Then in 1932 during the Depression, well before the era of the food processor, Hyman Gold, a Polish Jewish immigrant, received a vegetable-grating machine from a cousin. His wife, Tillie, presuming that there were people willing to pay not to have to grate horseradish, decided to help support her struggling family by preparing horseradish in their Brooklyn apartment. Tillie cleaned, ground, and mixed the horseradish with vinegar and salt. Her three young sons helped with filling the bottles, pasting on the labels, and screwing on the lids by hand, while Hyman peddled the bottles from store to store and by pushcart. The family of Polish immigrants sold only a few dozen jars in the first batch. Today, the company run by Tillie and Hyman's grandsons is the world's largest producer of horseradish, turning out more than ninety thousand bottles a day under the Gold's brand as well as under dozens of private labels.
Twice a year, before Passover and Rosh Hashanah, the pace of horseradish production at Gold's quickens to meet increased demand. Passover requires special changes.
About ten weeks before Passover, all the machinery is kashered. Afterwards, a mashgiach (kosher supervisor) is on the premises during all working hours. Cider vinegar is delivered in tank trucks to substitute for grain-based vinegar. The enormous root cellar is crammed with high stacks of horseradish roots. For most of the day, the plant is abuzz, producing narrow bottles that are a familiar sight at Seder tables across America. The intense fumes around the plant can even water the eyes of passersby. Other horseradish producers emerged in Baltimore and several other locales with large Jewish populations. As a result, today few consumers see horseradish in its fresh form.
Gold's still makes only classic horseradish, both plain and with grated beets, without sugar. Many later brands, both in America and Israel, began adding increasingly larger proportions of beets and sugar, to the point that the horseradish was completely overwhelmed. In some, the root is actually a minor ingredient with nary a hint of horseradish flavor. As a result, much American and Israeli horseradish has lost its potency and personality.
Fresh or preserved, the pungent, sinus-clearing horseradish has earned its place in Jewish cuisine and is still featured today on most Ashkenazic Seder plates and as a topping for gefilte fish.
Hoshanah Rabbah
The seventh and last day of Sukkot (the twenty-first of Tishrei) is regarded as the day on which the verdicts of judgment decided on Yom Kippur, ten days earlier, are sealed. Accordingly, special prayers of redemption called Hoshanot (Help us O God) are recited during the morning service, engendering the name of the day, Hoshanah Rabbah. It is also the last day for the Four Species (lulav, etrog, myrtle, and willow). The congregation, carrying the Four Species, encircles a Torah scroll held on the center dais of the sanctuary seven times. At the conclusion, it is a very old custom to beat a bunch of five willow branches (aravot) and recite a special hymn, "Kol Mevasser" (A Voice Brings News), conveying messianic hopes. Afterwards, it is traditional to eat a festive meal in the sukkah, the last such repast of the holiday, without saying Kiddush. As an extension of Yom Kippur, Ashkenazim serve foods traditional for the meal before the fast, notably kreplach in chicken soup. Alluding to the "Kol Mevasser" hymn, German Jews traditionally include a dish of braised cabbage or cabbage soup, in Yiddish kohl mit vasser (cabbage with water). In some eastern European households, the challah for Hoshanah Rabbah is shaped like a hand, connoting the final judgment of Yom Kippur being handed down on this day.
Hoska
Czech Jews adapted a local Bohemian sweet bread, called hoska or houska (braid or roll) and vanochka, into a holiday braided challah accented with lemon and nutmeg. The dough can also be shaped into a simpler regular braid.
Hot Dog
Among the most ardent devotees of sausages were the Germans, who devised a myriad of wursts. During the mid-nineteenth century, Frankfurt sausages, also called dachshund sausages and, in Yiddish, vurshtlekh (small wursts), began appearing in those areas of America with large pockets of German immigrants, most notably New York City. The advent of the mechanical meat grinder in the 1860s greatly reduced the effort and cost of making sausages and spurred their presence in America. Pushcart venders peddling various prepared foods, including cooked sausages, were a common sight in nineteenth-century New York.
In 1871, German immigrant Charles Feltman had a small charcoal stove installed in his cart, on which he set a kettle to boil Frankfurt sausages, and began selling them on Brooklyn's Coney Island, a peninsula on the Atlantic Ocean and popular holiday destination. For neater and easier handling for his genteel customers, he served the warm sausages in a slit roll, which he kept warm in a special tin box in the cart, in essence transforming the Frankfurt sausage into the portable American frankfurter, also known as the hot dog. The earliest known mention of the term hot dog was in the October 19, 1895, issue of the Yale Record, which in a piece of fiction about an actual local lunch wagon nicknamed "the Kennel Club," noted that students "contentedly munched hot dogs." In the Teutonic style, Feltman topped his hot dogs with mustard and sauerkraut. Feltman's sausage sandwiches proved so popular and profitable that, in only three years, he had enough money to purchase a parcel of beachfront land and build a restaurant.
By the end of the nineteenth century, frankfurters, originally made in the German manner from pork, had been embraced by the wealthy and the poor, but not by most of those in between. The mass popularization of the hot dog and its switch to beef was due to another hardworking immigrant, a young Polish Jew named Nathan Handwerker who arrived in New York City in 1902. One day in 1915 while visiting Coney Island, Handwerker noticed a "help wanted" sign in Feltman's window and took a job hand slicing buns at a salary of eleven dollars a week. Handwerker proved both adept at his craft and popular with the patrons, among whom were two struggling vaudeville performers, Eddie Cantor and Jimmy Durante. When Feltman raised the cost of his frankfurters from five to ten cents, Cantor and Durante, fearing that they and other performers would starve, encouraged Handwerker to start his own store selling the sandwiches at the five-cent price.
In 1916, having saved three hundred dollars, purportedly by eating only the hot dogs at work, Handwerker established his own stand at the corner of Stillwell and Surf Avenues, down the street from Feltman's. Handwerker, using a recipe created by his nineteen-year-old bride, Ida, introduced a spicier frankfurter, and, in the Jewish tradition, used pure beef and incorporated garlic and more pepper. Handwerker bought from two different spice suppliers in order to keep the exact recipe secret. Handwerker's initial location (called simply Nathan's) was little more than a shack of weathered clapboard and a twenty-foot-long counter. The franks were cooked on an extremely hot grill that burst the casings as they cooked, resulting in an alluring aroma that wafted through the air. Unlike Feltman's, Nathan's did not offer sauerkraut as a topping.
Although Nathan's charged half the price of Feltman's, people were wary about franks that cost so little. Even promotions of free pickles and root beer failed to convince most potential customers to patronize his shop. Eventually, Handwerker came up with another promotional stunt, offering free hot dogs to doctors and nurses at Coney Island Hospital, as long as they wore their white lab coats. When few accepted the offer, Handwerker dressed some freshly shaved vagrants in doctor's whites borrowed from a theatrical costume business and had them hang around his stand. He even posted a sign: "If doctors eat our hot dogs, you know they're great." As another promotion, Handwerker created a hot dog—eating contest on the Fourth of July in 1916, which became an annual event and led to the activity of competitive eating events. According to members of the Handwerker family, at the time that Nathan's was struggling to survive, vaudeville star Sophie Tucker, the "last of the red hot mamas" (in her case, "red hot" did not refer to frankfurters), had a popular song containing the line, "Nathan, Nathan, why are you waitin'?" When someone joked to Handwerker that he was becoming famous, he renamed his stand, "Nathan's Famous," which, as things turned out, proved quite fitting.
With any health concerns about his franks eliminated, people began buying Nathan's hot dogs. Business proved so good that Handwerker was forced to hire helpers, including a vivacious redhead named Clara Gordon Bow. In 1921, after winning a national Fame and Fortune Contest sponsored by Brewster Publications, Bow left Nathan's to pursue a more glorious occupation as a silent movie star and America's first sex symbol. (Stories that Bow was discovered by a talent agent while working at Nathan's were not true.)
Cantor and Durante both eventually became major stars and subsequently rewarded Handwerker by recommending his franks to their friends and occasionally returning to give Nathan's additional publicity. Numerous celebrities—such as Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, Jackie Gleason, Grace Kelly, and the Marx Brothers—were pictured munching on hot dogs, contributing an element of glamour and, in the process, creating a true food icon. Nathan's dogs were reportedly gangster Al Capone's favorite food. Whereas Feltman may have been the inventor of the hot dog, Handwerker was the one who brought it to the masses.
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Nathan's dogs were all-beef, but not kosher. By the end of the nineteenth century, various kosher butchers and small factories began producing kosher versions. In 1905, Romanian Jewish immigrant Isadore Pinckowitz (who later changed his name to Pines) began making kosher sausages and frankfurters from his apartment in a walk-up on the Lower East Side, which became the Hebrew National Kosher Sausage Factory. Beef hot dogs became a fixture of delicatessens, ballparks, and family barbecues. Besides going into a bun, hot dogs commonly went into split pea soup, baked beans, sauerkraut, and even cholent (Sabbath stew). In modern Hebrew, sausage is naknik and hot dog naknikiya.
H'Raimi
H'raimi is fish cooked in a spiced, chili-spiked tomato sauce.
Origin: Libya
Other names: chreime, hamraya, haraymi, hraimeh, h'reimi.
Beginning in the sixteenth century, the arrival in North Africa of American produce, particularly chilies and tomatoes, dramatically transformed the cuisines of that area. H'raimi means "hot" in some Maghrebi Arabic dialects, as the fish is cooked in a pilpelchuma, a chili-enhanced tomato sauce spiced with Libya's favorite seasoning combination—garlic, caraway, cayenne, cumin, and paprika. The fish itself is typically mild flavored. The seasonings vary slightly from region to region and home to home, including the amount of cumin and the addition of coriander or allspice. Moroccans either increase the amount of cumin and add some chopped cilantro or use a wider assortment of spices.
