by Gil Marks
It takes about one thousand orchids to produce one kilogram of sachlav powder; the best-quality powder is a translucent yellow. For most of the past several millennia, during the spring and summer, people have harvested only one of the tubers of each plant, keeping it alive to produce future generations. However, because demand and cost have recently risen, both tubers are now commonly taken, further decreasing their availability. Consequently, sachlav is rather expensive and frequently the ground form is adulterated or is completely replaced with cornstarch and other inferior ingredients. Some of the best tubers grow in Turkey, but today the Turkish government forbids their export.
The ancient Greeks and Romans ground the tubers of various orchids and cooked the powder to make a beverage that was thought to be an aphrodisiac. Medieval Arabs picked up this practice of drinking sachlav, as did the Turks. Middle Easterners still consider the beverage an aphrodisiac, and an aid in resisting colds. Maimonides cited the medicinal use of sachlav for several ailments, noting its ability to "to revive the spirits and to arouse sexual desire."
Sachlav is a slightly thick, white beverage that is served hot. When larger amounts of powder are added, the mixture becomes thicker and turns into a hot pudding. In the Middle East, the powder is dissolved in milk, flavored with sugar and orange-blossom water or rose water, and sprinkled with a little ground cinnamon. many Middle Easterners eagerly await the first sachlav of the season, considering it a favorite comfort food. In Turkey, it is dispensed from large brass or copper urns at pastry shops, kiosks, and carts.
In addition, for the past three centuries, a favorite Turkish usage of the tuber has been in salepi dondurma, an orchid ice cream further flavored with mastic. The mixture is uniquely kneaded and stretched into a firm, chewy mass. The orchid powder impedes the melting of the ice cream.
In the seventeenth century, England and Germany adapted the orchid beverage from the Turks, substituting water for the milk and pronouncing the name saloop. Around the same time, two other foreign hot beverages appeared in Europe, coffee and tea. All three soon had their advocates, with saloop initially becoming the most widespread in England. For the ensuing two centuries, saloop was sold from kiosks and street vendors, as well as frequently found in European coffeehouses and tea houses. Saloop even became common in colonial America. Charles Dickens, in his weekly journal, All the Year Round (London, 1885), reminisced, " 'Saloop—loop-loop!' was formerly a well-known cry in London. The decoction sold under this name seems, however, to have been superseded by coffee when that article became cheap. Saloop seems to have been sold down to modern time at street-stalls, from a late hour at night to early morning, just as coffee is sold now." During the nineteenth century, as coffee and tea emerged as inexpensive everyday fare, the popularity of saloop in Europe and America faded. Not so in the Levant, Egypt, and India, where the hot orchid beverage remains widespread to this day.
Sachlav, a thick, hot beverage made from the orchid root remains widely popular in the Middle East. Here a man in Jerusalem sells the drink piping hot from the large brass urn on his back.
Jews from Turkey, Egypt, and the Levant brought the hot beverage and thicker hot pudding versions to Israel. It has a bright white color and distinctive flowery flavor. The thicker hot, sweet pudding form is served in tall cups and sprinkled with finely shredded coconut, chopped nuts, and cinnamon and, more recently, sometimes dried banana chips and raisins. A spoon is required to eat it. The pudding is also cooled and used to fill semolina pastry. Numerous small vendors on the street and in souks (marketplaces) and malls specialize in thick sachlav cham (hot), typically served in paper cups. Many coffee shops and even some fancier restaurants offer it as well, but usually in glasses. It is particularly a winter treat and many Israelis look forward to the arrival of cold weather so that they can enjoy their first sachlav of the season. Packaged sachlav powder and "instant sachlav" are sold at local groceries. However, most of these do not include the expensive orchid root, so beverages and puddings made from them do not have quite the same flavor and consistency as those made from high-quality powder.
Middle Eastern Orchid Root Pudding (Sachlav)
3 to 5 servings
[DAIRY]
4 cups whole or low-fat milk (do not use nonfat)
About 6 tablespoons sachlav powder or ½ cup cornstarch or potato starch
¼ to ½ cup sugar
About 2 teaspoons orange-blossom water or rose water, or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
About 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon for sprinkling
About ¼ cup unsweetened dried shredded coconut for sprinkling
About 3 tablespoons chopped pistachios or almonds for sprinkling
1. In a small bowl, stir ½ cup milk into the sachlav. In a medium, heavy saucepan, combine the remaining milk and sugar to taste and cook over medium-low heat until the mixture is heated and the sugar dissolves, about 5 minutes.
2. Add the sachlav mixture and cook, stirring constantly, until the pudding boils and thickens, then boil and stir for an additional 2 minutes.
3. Remove from the heat and stir in the orange- blossom water. Divide among 3 to 5 bowls or cups and sprinkle with the cinnamon, coconut, and pistachios. The pudding is typically eaten hot, but can be eaten cooled as well.
Saffron
Saffron, from the Arabic asfar (yellow), is the world's most expensive spice. Saffron is made from the red-orange or yellowish stigmas of the fall-flowering purple crocus. Each blossom produces three stigmas (female organs of the flower) and an expert can hand strip up to twelve thousand flowers a day. However, more than eighty thousand blossoms and much manual labor are required to produce a single pound of the spice. An acre of land yields only about six pounds of saffron. In October, pickers gather the flowers just as the plants open in the morning, then remove and sort the stigmas by hand. Historically, the valuable strands were packed in linen bags, then secured in a leather pouch for transport.
Saffron is a native of Asia Minor or perhaps Crete, where it has been cultivated in both places since the Bronze Age. Most of the ancient Mediterranean civilizations, including the Hebrews, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, treasured it not only as a spice, but also as an ingredient in medicines and perfumes, and as a dye.
Saffron is mentioned once in the Bible—it is called karkom (which is the source of the English word crocus) in Song of Songs and is included among "the chief spices." In modern Hebrew, the spice is zafran and the crocus is karkom, while kurkum became the Arabic and modern Hebrew word for turmeric. Saffron was among the eleven aromatic components of the Temple incense. In the Midrash Sechel Tov by Menachem ben Sholomo of Italy (twelfth century), saffron along with cumin spiced the venison stew that Isaac requested of his son Esau. The Talmud used a field sowed with saffron as the paradigm of an expensively planted field. It also mentioned zetoom hamitzri (Egyptian beer), made from barley, salt, and saffron. The Talmud used the related word nitkarkam to mean "he became embarrassed or angry," denoting that his face became the reddish color of saffron threads.
Persians brought the plant eastward to India around 500 BCE. The Arabs introduced the saffron crocus flowers, as well as the techniques for preparing them, to Spain one thousand years ago. Until recently, Spain was the largest producer of saffron, producing nearly two-thirds of the world's supply. Today, Iran is the world's major producer of saffron, followed by Spain, while Italy, Turkey, Morocco, and Greece grow it on a much smaller scale.
The more intense the red hue of the stigma, the better the quality of the spice. Saffron with a brown color or too many yellow threads should be avoided. It is preferable to purchase saffron threads rather than the ground spice not only because grinding releases some of the volatile oils, but also because commercially prepared powdered "saffron" is often adulterated and may actually contain no genuine saffron. This is hardly a modern phenomenon, as evidenced by the fact that various medieval European governments imposed severe penalties, even death, for adulterating saffron.
During the
medieval period, Middle Eastern and European Jews were an integral part of the saffron trade (the original yellow Jew badges decreed by Pope Innocent III in 1215 had to be dyed by saffron). As a result, saffron, with its earthy, slighty bitter, honey-like flavor, became an ingredient in Jewish cooking even in many areas where it did not grow. Some eastern Ashkenazim added a little saffron or the much-less-expensive safflower to the Sabbath challah and other foods to produce a bright yellow color. Medieval Arabic cooking utilized large amounts of zaffaran to produce a yellow color, their traditional symbol of joy and happiness, influencing not only Sephardim, but also Persian, Turkish, and Moroccan Jews and, beginning in the fifteenth century, Italians. For centuries, saffron-tinted golden rice, called roz bi zaffaran in Arabic, riso col zafran in Italian, and arroz con azafran or arroz de Sabato in Ladino, has been a Friday night and holiday tradition in Sephardic and Middle Eastern communities.
Salade Russe (Russian Salad)
Salade Russe is an assortment of diced cooked vegetables and sometimes proteins.
Other names: French: salade à la Russe; Iran: salad-e olivieh; Russia: Salad Olivier.
Salads were unknown in Russia until the nineteenth century, when nobles began importing French chefs. Among them was Lucien Olivier, who in 1864 in Moscow left the employ of a Russian noble and opened the Hermitage restaurant. There chef Olivier created a fancy potato salad bound with mayonnaise, called Salad Olivier, which became wildly popular in its native Russia. Olivier later opened a restaurant in Wiesbaden, Germany, where he offered the dish as "salade à la Russe." Following the Russian Revolution, immigrants spread Olivier's creaion far and wide. In most countries, including Italy, France, Germany, Turkey, and Morocco, it is known as Russian Salad.
The predominant Russian vegetables—potatoes, beets, carrots, and cucumbers, always cooked or pickled—all made their way into this salad. Russians commonly add plenty of meat, poultry, and fish to the dish, but Jews make a vegetarian version because sour cream is sometimes used in the dressing and because it is served at dairy meals. Mediterranean Jewish variations substitute a vinaigrette for the sour cream and mayonnaise. The "Russian Vegetable Salad" in the first edition of The Settlement Cook Book (Milwaukee, 1901) called for peas, carrots, string beans, and turnips; the author noted, "Potatoes may be used in place of turnips, or a combination of any two of the vegetables."
Because this salad can be prepared well ahead of time, it was adopted as Sabbath and holiday fare. Salade Russe with a vinaigrette became a traditional Passover dish among Moroccans, who did not eat dairy products during the holiday. Italians typically serve it for the third Sabbath meal on Saturday afternoon with cold zuppa di verdura (mixed vegetable soup) and crusty bread. Russians in Israel commonly present this salad on a bed of soft lettuce accompanied with dark bread and chilled vodka.
Russian Cooked Vegetable Salad (Salade Russe)
6 to 8 servings
[PAREVE]
3 to 4 medium beets, peeled and cut into ½-inch cubes
1 tablespoon olive or vegetable oil
4 medium (about 1 pound total) boiling potatoes
8 ounces green beans, cut into ½-inch pieces
4 medium carrots, cut into ½-inch pieces
1 cup shelled green peas
2 medium onions, coarsely chopped
4 medium dill pickles, cut into ½-inch cubes
4 scallions (white and light green parts), sliced
Dressing:
¼ cup red wine vinegar or white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon dry mustard or 1½ teaspoons Dijon mustard
¾ teaspoon sugar
About ¼ teaspoon table salt or ½ teaspoon kosher salt
Ground white or black pepper to taste
½ cup vegetable oil
2 hard-boiled eggs, sliced, for garnish (optional)
1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Toss the beets with the oil and wrap in aluminum foil. Bake until tender, about 25 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil, add the potatoes, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer until fork-tender, 20 to 30 minutes. Drain, peel, and cut into ½-inch cubes.
3. Steam or boil the beans, carrots, peas, and onion until crisp-tender, about 2 minutes.
4. In a large bowl, combine the beets, potatoes, beans, carrots, peas, onions, pickles, and scallions.
5. To make the dressing: In a medium bowl, stir together the vinegar, mustard, sugar, salt, and pepper. In a slow, steady stream, whisk in the oil.
6. Pour the dressing over the vegetables and toss to coat. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or up to 2 days to let the vegetables absorb the dressing. Serve chilled or at room temperature, if desired, garnished with the eggs.
Salami
"As life's pleasures go, food is second only to sex. Except for salami and eggs. Now that's better than sex, but only if the salami is thickly sliced." (From a monologue performed by comedian Alan King.)
In Italy, since the time of the Roman Empire, much of the meat has been preserved by chopping and salting. Salumi, from the Latin sal (salt), is the generic Italian term for all manner of cured meats—the equivalent of the French charcuterie—including those with and without a casing. A specific type of salumi is salame (salami is the plural), denoting a cured sausage. Salame vary according to spicing and the type of meat grinding (fine, medium, or coarse) and can be dry-aged, precooked, or fresh, the latter requiring cooking before consumption. Modena emerged as the center of salame production, but the dish eventually spread far and wide.
Although the typical Italian salumi contains pork, Jews substituted beef, resulting in salsicce di manzo (beef sausage), or poultry, notably creating salame d'oca (goose sausage). In northern Italy, where the raising of geese had been widespread among Jews since Roman times, geese were known as "poor person's pig." By using geese, every Jewish household could annually prepare sausages without owning large livestock.
The Italian salame has been adapted by many cultures. Hungarians make a version of sausages (kolbász) called salámi, a coarsely textured firm sausage more heavily smoked than the Italian version. Hungarian téli salami is mildly seasoned, while the csabai salami is rather spicy and loaded with plenty of paprika.
In America, salami came to mean a cooked or dry-cured garlic sausage. It was in America, living next to Italians on Manhattan's Lower East Side, that Ashkenazim, some familiar with German wursts and Polish kielbasa, became acquainted with Italian salami. Toward the end of the nineteenth century, an increasing number of small kosher meat-processing plants opened in America to produced kosher sausages, especially garlic sausages, which eventually assumed the name salami. The Yiddish writer Sholem Aleichem, who first visited New York in 1906 and would die there in 1916, wrote about early American-Jewish life in the comic novel Motl, the Cantor's Son. He mentioned salami in this passage describing a New York eatery: "Maybe you've heard of Hebrew National Delicatessen. It's a company that sells kosher salami, frankfurters, pickled tongues, and corned beef. It has stores all over town. If you're hungry, you step into one and order a hot dog with mustard and horseradish."
The salami emerged in America as a favorite Jewish food and cultural staple. Salami was adopted by Jewish delicatessens, although it never became as prominent as pastrami, corned beef, and chopped liver. In delis, the hanging hard salamis, air-dried for at least three months, were typically wiped daily to remove a chalky white crust of salt and chemicals that formed on the outside. For decades before World War II, many Jewish delicatessens posted a sign, "a nickel a shtickel," indicating that the ends of salamis were on sale for five cents each.
Salami was more commonly consumed in homes, in simple dishes, than in restaurants. In many Jewish families, salami sandwiches became a common school lunch. Southern Jewish families might make red beans and rice with salami instead of pork sausage. In the 1950s, kosher salami on white bread reflected the synthesis and acculturation of American Jews.
Spare and inexpensive in
gredients, like eggs and sausage, made a filling dinner for harried American Jewish housewives, hapless bachelors, or for many a father, on the rare occasion when he was forced to cook. Some cooks leave the salami slices whole, while others cut them in halves. Some people prefer to cook the eggs without stirring, creating a sort of pancake, while others scramble the eggs. Some people eat it with mustard, while others place slices of salami and eggs on bread, rendering the dish more filling.
In the days when kosher food was still rare in American stores, Jewish travelers frequently packed a salami or several in their luggage, in case of emergency. During World War II, a whole kosher salami was a common and welcomed present from worried families or the Jewish Welfare Board to their children in the military, and in the years afterward, from parents to their children in college. In 1948, the New Yorker magazine mentioned a "Kosher Salami-of-the-Month-Club." In the 1960s and 1970s, when westerners were protesting Soviet repression of Jews, activists smuggled kosher salamis to refuseniks in Russia. The first punk rock group, the Ramones, in the 1977 song "Commando," declared, "Fourth rule is eat kosher salami."
(See also Sausage)
Ashkenazic Salami and Eggs (Vursht Un Eier)
2 to 3 servings
[MEAT]
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
8 to 12 slices beef salami
6 large eggs, lightly beaten
About ¼ teaspoon table salt or ½ teaspoon kosher salt
About ¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
1. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the salami in a single layer and fry, turning, until browned on both sides, 1 to 2 minutes per side.
2. In a medium bowl, combine the eggs, salt, and pepper. Add to the skillet, making sure to distribute the eggs evenly among the salami slices. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook until set on the bottom, 1 to 2 minutes. Loosen the edges, then turn the eggs and cook until set, 1 to 2 minutes. Cut into wedges and serve, if desired, with prepared mustard.
