hamentashen

Like little parcels of delight, these hamentashen have a hard time deciding whether it's a pastry or a cookie. So we'll call it a pastrookie. Traditionally eaten during Purim, these triangular pastrookies are shaped after the three-cornered hats worn by Haman, the antagonist in the Book of Esther. That's the extent of my knowledge on the history and origin of these Jewish goodies; but I do know just how delicious they are. I ate enough of them during college to make me an expert. There was a small cafe outside the campus library that fully serviced my hamentash needs. My personally favorite filling is poppy seed, a sweetened paste called mohn, followed by apricot and date. I've also seen them filled with cherries, prunes and chocolate.

The dough is a cross between a sugar cookie and a shortbread, producing a soft, sweet interior with a crispy, butter crust. Need I say more?


Hamentashen
yields 12-14

2 cups all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 cup milk

1 recipe mohn (see below)
apricot preserves

1. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl, with a mixer, cream together butter and sugar, about 3 minutes. Beat in the egg and vanilla until incorporated.

2. Alternately add in the flour and milk until a dough comes together. Turn it out onto a work surface and form into a ball. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for about 1 hour.

3. Preheat oven to 375F. Roll out the dough on a floured board into a disc of 1/4" thickness. With a 2-3" cookie cutter or rim of a glass, cut out circles of dough. Dollop a tablespoon of mohn or fruit jam onto the center of each. Gently fold in the sides of each circle into a triangle and seal the corners well.

4. Lay the triangles out 2" apart on cookie sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake 12-15 minutes, or until lightly golden. Cool on a rack.


Mohn (Poppyseed Filling)

1/2 cup boiling water
2 oz. poppy seeds
3/4 cup whole milk
2 1/2 Tbsp honey or sugar
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1/4 cup coarsely ground walnuts
2 Tbsp raisins, chopped
1 tsp lemon juice

1. Steep poppy seeds in water overnight. Drain well. Finely grind the seeds with a coffee grinder.

2. In a small saucepan, heat the milk and poppy seeds. Simmer for 15 minutes to reduce down the milk until it has the consistency of heavy cream. Stir in the honey, butter and raisins and simmer for another 5 minutes. Finally stir in the walnuts and lemon juice. Let cool.

jewish apple cake

The first time I'd heard of Jewish apple cake was when I had first started dating Mr.S, I'd asked him what his favorite cake was. Being born and bred in Baltimore, he told me "Jewish apple cake, of course," followed by all sorts of drooling noises and eyes rolling back into his head. As I'd soon discover, like Scrapple, this cake is a regional favorite, being quite popular in bakehouses all over Philadelphia to here in Baltimore. It's an incredibly moist bundt cake, filled and topped with a layer of cinnamon-dusted apple slices. Once I got a whif of this cake, I could easily understand Mr.S's reaction of unrestrained excitement.

So how and why is it Jewish? No one is exactly certain surrounding the origins of the cake (except that it is most likely from Eastern Europe), but it's very similar to an apple cake that's served during Rosh Hashanah. Moreover, the recipe is completely dairy-free, calling for vegetable oil instead of butter, and orange juice instead of milk. Overall, it's a guaranteed fool-proof recipe that will turn out some of the best apple cake you'll ever have. The orange juice flavors the cake with a fragrance that's not tart like lemon, but much sweeter, which accents the apples perfectly. What's more, the apples keep the cake super moist for days.


I bake a huge 10" bundt cake every year now for Mr.S's birthday. I'm sure the recipe can be broken down into smaller amounts for individual Jewish apple cakes (great or gift giving) and cupcakes. Whole Foods sells a small 6" one which I've never tried, because they always look slightly smushed and bruised from the packaging. Besides, why spend $7 on a cake you can so easily bake at home, with ingredients you probably already have in your pantry? (If anyone knows of a local bakery that offers mind-blowing Jewish apple cake, please drop me a line.)

Jewish Apple Cake
makes one 10" bundt cake

CAKE:
3 cups flour
2 1/2 cups sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup orange juice
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp cinnamon

APPLES:
3 apples, peeled, cored and sliced
3 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp cinnamon

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Grease and flour a 10" bundt pan.

2. In a large bowl, gently toss together the apple slices with the 3 Tbsp of sugar and 2 tsp of cinnamon. Set aside.

3. In a mixer bowl, combine all the cake ingredients and beat until well blended, about 1 minute. Pour half the batter into the prepared pan. Arrange half the apples in a layer over the batter. Pour the rest of the batter into the pan to cover the apples. Finish off by arranging the remaining apples in a layer on top.

4. Bake for 1 hour 15 minutes or until the cake turns golden brown. A knife inserted in the center should come out clean. Let cake cool in the pan. Run a knife around the edges to loosen the cake and gently invert out onto a plate. Re-invert onto a serving dish. Dust with powdered sugar.

matzo ball = comfort food

After an entire weekend of subsisting on nothing but dry toast and soup (I was unfairly attacked by the flu) I finally felt well enough to make a meal for myself, substantial enough to fill me up but at the same time soupy enough for my sore throat. Solution: matzo ball soup! I remembered I had a box of Manischewitz in my pantry I had bought around Passover, out of curiosity. I've had matzo ball soup only once before at Atwater's, a big bowl of love, hot and steaming, in the shape of homemade fluffy dough balls. There were tender pieces of pulled white chicken meat, carrots and celery to eat along with every spoonful of dumpling and broth. At the bottom of that bowl, I had discovered a new woman in me, one who was earnest to learn more about Jewish cooking.


What I love about matzo balls is ultimately the nature of their texture; soft, light, springy, and yet quite resilient to heat and all that poking and prodding. Because they're porous, they soak up all that aromatic broth and hold it like a sponge. Much different from the dumplings in chicken and dumplings or sour beef and dumplings, but equally as hearty and satisfying.

There are so many layers to this dish that you can't help but understand the tradition, family, and love that lie behind it. The many hours it takes to make the broth, the ritual of picking the chicken meat, and the tenderness it takes to shape each individual dumpling on well-seasoned palms. My attempt was slightly haphazard, as I threw most of my ingredients together instead of taking the time to go through the steps, but it turned out brilliantly and definitely was a welcome meal for my stomach after being sick. Next time, I'll make the broth from scratch and use fresh cilantro and parsley.