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Old 01-13-2012, 08:34 PM   #1
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Share food memories?

My Jewish husband and I were talking about food memories and his stories were just too good not to share. We share nothing in common as far as food memories are concerned. The word Smaltz came up here at DC recently, and I asked him about it. He has a way with words and is quite the character so I asked him to write the memories down for me.........enjoy.

The Atkinstein Diet according to Steve

If you read this and you are not Jewish, I cannot even begin to explain it to you!

This goes back 2 generations, 3 if you are over 50. It also explains why many Jewish men died in their early 60's with a non-functional cardiovascular system and looked like today's men at 89.

Before we start, there are some variations in ingredients because of the various types of Jewish taste (Polack, Litvack, Dutch and Gallicianer).

Just as we Jews have six seasons of the year (winter, spring, summer, autumn, the slack season, and the busy season), we all focus on a main ingredient which, unfortunately and undeservedly, has disappeared from our diet. I'm talking, of course, about SCHMALTZ (chicken fat). SCHMALTZ has, for centuries, been the prime ingredient in almost every Jewish dish, and I feel it's time to revive it to its rightful place in our homes. (I have plans to distribute it in a green glass Gucci bottle with a label clearly saying: "low fat, no cholesterol, Newman's Choice, extra virgin SCHMALTZ." (It can't miss!) Then there are grebenes - pieces of chicken skin, deep fried in SCHMALTZ, onions and salt until crispy brown (Jewish bacon). This makes a great appetizer for the next cardiologist's convention.

There's also a nice chicken fricassee (stew) using the heart, gorgle (neck), pipick (a great delicacy, given to the favorite child, usually me), a fleegle (wing) or two, some ayelech (little premature eggs) and other various chicken innards, in a broth of SCHMALTZ, water, paprika, etc. We also have knishes (filled dough) and the eternal question, "Will that be liver, beef or potatoes, or all three?"
Other time-tested favorites are kishkeh, and its poor cousin, helzel (chicken or goose neck). Kishkeh is the gut of the cow, bought by the foot at the Kosher butcher. It is turned inside out, scalded and scraped. One end is sewn up and a mixture of flour, SCHMALTZ, onions, eggs, salt, pepper, etc., is spooned into the open end and squished down until it is full. The other end is sewn and the whole thing is boiled. Yummy!

My personal all-time favorite is watching my Zaida (grandpa) munch on boiled chicken feet.
For our next course we always had chicken soup with pieces of yellow-white, rubbery chicken skin floating in a greasy sea of lokshen (noodles), farfel (broken bits of matzah), tzibbeles (onions), mondlech (soup nuts), kneidlach (dumplings), kasha (groats), kliskelech and marech (marrow bones) . The main course, as I recall, was either boiled chicken, flanken, kackletten, hockfleish (chopped meat), and sometimes rib steaks, which were served either well done, burned or cremated. Occasionally we had barbecued liver done to a burned and hardened perfection in our own coal furnace.



Care to share some food memories?
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Old 01-13-2012, 10:00 PM   #2
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That is just precious, Kayelle!
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Old 01-14-2012, 12:39 AM   #3
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My grandparents eating lutefisk at midnight. None of us would, but they'd sit at the kitchen table and eat lutefisk...only in the winter.
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Old 01-14-2012, 12:51 AM   #4
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For those who've been with me for awhile, pardon when I repeat.

One of my favorites is a funny. Daddy still hates it when I tell it, but the rest of us enjoy a laugh. We were stationed in Germany, and Mom was not one to stay on the military base and restrict herself to the Commissary and BX. She found a great ring sausage she wanted to try, but really had no idea how to cook it. She boiled it, and put it in front of Daddy to slice and serve. He stuck a fork in it and it exploded. It hit the ceiling of our quarters, and fell back down. Dad's always had thick eyebrows, and I'll never forget those juices and fat dripping from his brows onto his nose, into his eyes, and back onto his shirt and plate. Mom was hushing my sisters and me, "don't laugh, don't laugh, whatever you do, don't laugh!" Of course the more we tried to stifle it, the worse it got. To this day I don't know why Mom didn't pierce it, she always did that with hot dogs. Or maybe that was just dumb luck (by their own admission, Mom had no idea how to cook when they married, and neither of their mothers could cook).
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Old 01-14-2012, 01:07 AM   #5
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There were maybe 4 different times when Dad told us kids we didn't have to eat what Mom had just served. This pronouncement was made when something was absolutely inedible.

Eggplant Mush...that's what we called it and it only showed up once. Mom got tired of fried eggplant and decided to try a new recipe. It was a casserole type thing with crackers and eggplant. It was icky and the texture was even worse. Everything after that was gauged on eggplant mush.
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Old 01-14-2012, 02:43 AM   #6
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Kayelle View Post
My Jewish husband and I were talking about food memories and his stories were just too good not to share. We share nothing in common as far as food memories are concerned. The word Smaltz came up here at DC recently, and I asked him about it. He has a way with words and is quite the character so I asked him to write the memories down for me.........enjoy.

The Atkinstein Diet according to Steve

If you read this and you are not Jewish, I cannot even begin to explain it to you!

This goes back 2 generations, 3 if you are over 50. It also explains why many Jewish men died in their early 60's with a non-functional cardiovascular system and looked like today's men at 89.

Before we start, there are some variations in ingredients because of the various types of Jewish taste (Polack, Litvack, Dutch and Gallicianer).

Just as we Jews have six seasons of the year (winter, spring, summer, autumn, the slack season, and the busy season), we all focus on a main ingredient which, unfortunately and undeservedly, has disappeared from our diet. I'm talking, of course, about SCHMALTZ (chicken fat). SCHMALTZ has, for centuries, been the prime ingredient in almost every Jewish dish, and I feel it's time to revive it to its rightful place in our homes. (I have plans to distribute it in a green glass Gucci bottle with a label clearly saying: "low fat, no cholesterol, Newman's Choice, extra virgin SCHMALTZ." (It can't miss!) Then there are grebenes - pieces of chicken skin, deep fried in SCHMALTZ, onions and salt until crispy brown (Jewish bacon). This makes a great appetizer for the next cardiologist's convention.

There's also a nice chicken fricassee (stew) using the heart, gorgle (neck), pipick (a great delicacy, given to the favorite child, usually me), a fleegle (wing) or two, some ayelech (little premature eggs) and other various chicken innards, in a broth of SCHMALTZ, water, paprika, etc. We also have knishes (filled dough) and the eternal question, "Will that be liver, beef or potatoes, or all three?"
Other time-tested favorites are kishkeh, and its poor cousin, helzel (chicken or goose neck). Kishkeh is the gut of the cow, bought by the foot at the Kosher butcher. It is turned inside out, scalded and scraped. One end is sewn up and a mixture of flour, SCHMALTZ, onions, eggs, salt, pepper, etc., is spooned into the open end and squished down until it is full. The other end is sewn and the whole thing is boiled. Yummy!

My personal all-time favorite is watching my Zaida (grandpa) munch on boiled chicken feet.
For our next course we always had chicken soup with pieces of yellow-white, rubbery chicken skin floating in a greasy sea of lokshen (noodles), farfel (broken bits of matzah), tzibbeles (onions), mondlech (soup nuts), kneidlach (dumplings), kasha (groats), kliskelech and marech (marrow bones) . The main course, as I recall, was either boiled chicken, flanken, kackletten, hockfleish (chopped meat), and sometimes rib steaks, which were served either well done, burned or cremated. Occasionally we had barbecued liver done to a burned and hardened perfection in our own coal furnace.



Care to share some food memories?
I think your husband and I would have fun.

Moishe Pipick took his bear to the synagogue. The Rebbi stops him, "Moishe you cant take the bear into synagogue what are you thinking"

"Rebbi he sings better than the chazzan"

"let me be the judge of that let him sing here"

The bear sings so sweetly everyone is in tears

"Moishe you are right the bear could be a chazzan"

"Rebbi I know, I keep telling him but all he wants to do is become a Taxi driver"
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Old 01-14-2012, 09:22 AM   #7
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Quote:
Originally Posted by PrincessFiona60 View Post
There were maybe 4 different times when Dad told us kids we didn't have to eat what Mom had just served. This pronouncement was made when something was absolutely inedible.
Okay TSB, at our house that was lutefisk. You got off easy with "eggplant mush."
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Old 01-14-2012, 10:34 AM   #8
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Claire View Post
For those who've been with me for awhile, pardon when I repeat.

One of my favorites is a funny. Daddy still hates it when I tell it, but the rest of us enjoy a laugh. We were stationed in Germany, and Mom was not one to stay on the military base and restrict herself to the Commissary and BX. She found a great ring sausage she wanted to try, but really had no idea how to cook it. She boiled it, and put it in front of Daddy to slice and serve. He stuck a fork in it and it exploded. It hit the ceiling of our quarters, and fell back down. Dad's always had thick eyebrows, and I'll never forget those juices and fat dripping from his brows onto his nose, into his eyes, and back onto his shirt and plate. Mom was hushing my sisters and me, "don't laugh, don't laugh, whatever you do, don't laugh!" Of course the more we tried to stifle it, the worse it got. To this day I don't know why Mom didn't pierce it, she always did that with hot dogs. Or maybe that was just dumb luck (by their own admission, Mom had no idea how to cook when they married, and neither of their mothers could cook).


I'll bet you kids already knew to try not to laugh. Your mum kept saying "don't laugh" to help keep herself from laughing. Oh, your poor dad.
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Old 01-14-2012, 02:39 PM   #9
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Okay TSB, at our house that was lutefisk. You got off easy with "eggplant mush."
I'm going to have to ask Dad if he ever tried lutefisk, there are some foods he absolutely would not allow in the house, even if one of us liked it. Cottage Cheese and Sour Cream come to mind.
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Old 01-14-2012, 02:50 PM   #10
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Oh, yeah. Daddy pretended to dignity, but with four daughters stern didn't get him far. Worse than this was the camp toilet thing. I know it is the opposite of a food memory, but we were camping, and had a camp toilet that was just a cross bars with a toilet seat and a bag underneath. One late night/early morning Daddy used it and it colapsed. Picture me and three sisters and Mom inside the tent, Mom saying, don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh. Daddy still doesn't really know how to cuss (neither in French nor in English) and it was "you G-D-S-O-B" -- initials only! "Don't laugh, girls, just don't laugh!"
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