Tag Archives: Jewish Food

Apple-Potato Latkes

I have been blogging since May 19 2009. This year will be the 13th Chanukah post I will be writing. If your family is anything like mine, they want the same classic potato latkes every year. Your idea of the ultimate latke very much depends on what you grew up with.

It’s beginning to smell and sound a lot like Chanukah around here as I test latke recipes. Check out the video.

My childhood memory of latkes is bittersweet. My mom made the most delicious latkes. Thin, lacy and very crispy at the edges, they were held together with the bare minimum of egg and matzoh meal. She served them with apple sauce and sour cream. That’s the sweet part of my childhood memory. The bitter part is related to my mom’s very keen sense of smell. She was offended by the lingering scent of frying oil. Almost immediately after making latkes, she would perform an exorcism to cleanse the house of the offending odour. She used her secret blend of cleaning agents, a potent, lethal combination of Joy and Ajax.  Do not try this at home unless you are wearing a gas mask.

My husband, on the other hand, grew up with thick and creamy latkes. The potatoes were chopped quite fine and then fried, almost like a potato cake. They were served with ketchup. šŸ˜± For a few years I made compromise latkes. Eventually, I won him over to the thin and lacy style. but he still eats them with ketchup.

As a blogger, I feel pressured to present something new and innovative every year. But the truth is, while my family smiled and nodded politely when I presented them with Sweet Potato and Brussels Sprouts Latkes one year, they just want traditional latkes.

A while ago, I came across a recipe for Apple-Potato Latkes with Cinnamon Sour Cream, from Melissa Clarke. I was intrigued with the addition of apples. We always eat latkes with applesauce, so adding apples to the batter wasn’t such a radical idea. While they were delicious, they strayed too far from my ideal latke. She added 3 eggs and 2/3 cup of flour to the batter. They held together beautifully, but they were too eggy and cake-like for me.

I played around with the ratios and came up with a more traditional latke. The apple remained as a subtle hum in the background, but the predominant flavour is potato. The key to making latkes is muscle power. You need to rid the potatoes, and apples in this case, of all their excess moisture. About 80% of a potato is water. Apples contain 85% water. After shredding, gather up the mixture into a tea towel and squeeze out as much liquid as you can. Save the liquid that the apples and potatoes give up. After sitting for a few minutes, all the starch from the potato liquid will settle to the bottom of the bowl. Drain off the liquid, and scrape that potato starch into the shredded mixture. It really helps keep the latkes together.

These latkes offer a slight variation on the classic latke, that even the die-hard traditionalists in your house will approve.

Pro tip: for pretty pink applesauce, don’t peel your apples. Just quarter them and put them in a pot with a little water. Cover and cook over low heat until tender. Use a food mill to get rid of the skins and core. Flavour with a pinch of cinnamon if desired.

Tropical Macaroons

This year for Passover I wanted to try something a little different for our dessert table. I always makeĀ coconut macaroons diped in chocolate.Ā Ā Ā Not that there’s anything wrong with that. They’re practically perfect.

I decided to put a tropical twist on my macaroons. This year our Seder theme is to come dressed as a character from a Tom Hanks movie. (don’t ask!!). I figured that these cookies would be right at home on the set of Cast Away.Ā I started with a recipe from David Lebowitz for coconut pineapple macaroons. Cook down some crushed canned pineapple and sugar until it reaches a jam-like consistency. I ramped up the tropical vibe with some macadamia nuts and white chocolate.
It is traditional to utter these words at the end of every Passover Seder, “Next year in Jerusalem.”Ā It’s entirely possible these little macaroons will have us declaring “Next year in Hawaii.”

Click here to print recipe forĀ Tropical Macaroons.

Cinnamon Bun Hamentashen with Almond Shortbread Dough

I first made these hamentashen six years ago. Inspired by cinnamon buns, I stuffed the hamentashen with brown sugar, cinnamon, butter and chopped almonds and pecans. What could be bad about that? I used my Aunt Carol’s traditional oil based dough and once baked, I drizzled them with an icing sugar glaze. They were a big hit.

But then, last year I had a hamentashen epiphany. I discovered Israeli bread baking guru Uri Scheft‘s almond butter shortbread dough . He wrapped up his poppy seed hamentashen with this gorgeous buttery dough. I made them and I was hooked!

I wondered what would happen if I put the cinnamon bun filling into the almond shortbread dough? I mean, I knew it would be good, but I had no idea how seriously good it would be. That chewy cinnamon filling wrapped up in a crumbly cookie dough is off the charts good!

I went a little bit rogue and made the dough with salted butter, given my success with the Salted Butter Skor Shortbread cookies.

Click here to print recipe forĀ Cinnamon Bun Hamentashen with Almond Shortbread Dough.

Maple Pecan Hamentashen

Hamentashen are the traditional treat baked for the Jewish holiday of Purim, which, this year, Ā falls on Thursday March 1. The Festival of Purim commemorates a time when the Jewish people living in ancient (4th century BCE) Persia were saved from extermination.

The celebration of Purim will be bitter-sweet for me this year. Sweet because, well…. Hamentashen! Bitter because this will be my first Purim without my Aunt Carol. She passed away, suddenly, a few weeks ago. She is actually my husband’s aunt, but from the very first time I met her, over 36 years ago, she always made me feel like a part of the family. I miss her very much.

It was from Aunt Carol that I learned that all hamentashen didn’t come from a bakery. (I also learned that it is rude to stack dishes at the table when clearing.) Until I met her, I’d never had a homemade hamentashen. My reaction was not that dissimilar to when I found out, from my big sister Faith, that babies don’t come from the stork.

Every year, Aunt Carol and her sister-in-law, Aunt Jen, went into factory mode and produced vast quantities of tiny little triangles of dough filled with a prune and raisin filling, dipped in honey and walnuts. They shipped these hamantashen off to all their children, nieces and nephews across the universe. Sadly, Aunt Jen died about 26 years ago, but Aunt Carol soldiered on alone, continuing the tradition of making hamentashen for everyone in the family. We all looked forward to our little parcels in the mail. It’s possible that my addiction to online shopping is her fault. She conditioned me to get happy when boxes arrived in the mail.

I spent some very happy afternoons in Aunt Carol’s kitchen learning how to master hamentashen. The dough for this recipe is hers.Ā The filling recipe for these hamentashen is my creation. While I love the traditional flavours of poppyseed and prune, I like to play with different flavour combos.A few years ago year I made Cinnamon Bun Hamentashen. Last year I bakedĀ Salted Caramel Apple Hamentashen, Poppy Seed HamentashenĀ and Dried Cherry and Pecan Hamentashen.Ā 

I love the combo of maple and pecans. I blitzed some toasted pecans, maple butter and some cream cheese together to make this delicious filling. If you can’t find maple butter, a combo of brown sugar and maple syrup would be a good substitute. In the recipe link below, I give proportions.Ā 

Once cooled, the baked hamentashen get a dip in a maple glaze and some finely chopped pecans.

Click here to print recipe forĀ Maple Pecan Hamentashen.

Click here to print recipe forĀ Aunt Carol’s Hamentashen.