Custom, perspective, history and place

influence what we traditionally call

`Jewish Cooking.'

ANNABEL COHEN Special to the Jewish News

t's Rosh Hashanah. My mother has set the table
simply, though it's very elegant with creamy roses,
gold flatware and white Rosenthal.
She's made the soup — chicken with matzah
balls that are a little on the hard side. She didn't intend
for the balls to come out like this, but it's OK — we
like them this way.
There's her brisket — dark and flavorful, with
carrots and potatoes — a recipe from a long-gone
Hungarian friend. We three daughters all have brought
side dishes. It's easier that way. I get to make the kugel
and gefilte fish.
What could be more Jewish? My mother's family
was originally from Poland. American Jews, for the
most part, have Eastern European roots. So most
American Jews of this century would deem our holiday
meal typical Jewish food.
My father's family, very Sephardic, plays along with
the Ashkenazi fare but my father's memories of his
mother's flavorful chicken and fish stewed with exotic
spices and herbs lingers.
Recipes like these tie us generation to generation,
and help preserve family tradition, but they can change
slightly too as each new cook adds his or her stamp to
the old family standard.

WHAT MAKES IT JEWISH?

Jewish food is identified all around us. Bread companies
make Jewish Rye. Bagels are considered Jewish. There are
kosher dill pickles and the quintessential Jewish sandwich,
corned beef with coleslaw and Russian dressing.

12 •

SOURCEBOOK 2002 • JN

So the question arises, is there a specific Jewish
cuisine? The quick answer is no.
The answer brings to mind the children's story about
the elephant and the blind men. Asked to describe an
elephant, each man had his version of what the
elephant was. One who touched the leg said the
elephant was a pillar. Another, feeling the tail, described
the animal like a rope. Yet another thought the elephant
like a large fan, having only felt an ear. Each insisted he
had the right answer. Of course, the moral of the story
was that each man was right and that each answer was a
matter of perspective.
In reality, there's no food that's purely Jewish. Taken
to a broader level, there's also no Italian, Chinese or
Indian cuisine as well. And despite the proliferation of
hamburgers and fried chicken, there's no real American
food either.
Cuisine in general is literally a melting pot.
Generations settle in an area of the world, bring with
them their food customs and, using ingredients
indigenous to their new surroundings, adapt their
favorites and adopt those of the new land. The same is
true of Jewish food.

CUSTOMS AND CULTURE

Take matzah, for instance. Some argue that the bread
of the ancient world was mostly flat, like pita or lavosh,
so that Jews of Egypt really ate mostly flat bread, not
the tall yeast raised loaves we slice for sandwiches.
On the other hand (in Jewish thinking, there's always
the other hand), the culture of your community is your
culture.

