As a child growing up in a small Midwestern American city, Chanukah held a special magic for me.
My late father, who must have possessed a largely untapped creative streak, devoted many hours to creating wonderful decorations out of Styrofoam, strings of blue-and-white electric lights, and blue and silver glitter. We were the proud owners of a giant Styrofoam menorah; each night of Chanukah we swiveled on an additional bulb until on the last night all eight lights and the shamash (servant) “candle” were lit. We also owned a six-pointed Styrofoam Star of David with a light on each point, small dreidels (special four-sided Chanukah tops), and various other Chanukah-appropriate cutouts.
Each year we light an antique brass menorah like this one, which was made in Poland and carried to the New World by an immigrant family. Our menorah, passed down in my family and much more rubbed and worn than the one pictured here, is said to have a similar history—although these menorahs were replicated by the Workman’s Circle on New York’s Lower East Side early in the 20th Century.
A few days before Chanukah, we three daughters would bring the Chanukah decorations up from boxes in the basement and, with much excitement, arrange them artistically around the fireplace. Then, each night, after we lit our respective Chanukah menorahs, we would ceremoniously plug in the electric “Chanukah lights” and open our much-anticipated presents.
This wasn’t the way our forebears celebrated Chanukah for generations before us, and it definitely contained elements of the gentile holiday festivities surrounding us. But, as a tiny minority in our city, our Chanukah decorations kept any longings for a “Chanukah bush” at bay. Surely we had the most beautiful Chanukah house in town!
That Sunday at religious school, Temple Emanuel would hold its annual Chanukah party. The sisterhood ladies turned out in droves to grate potatoes and onions and fry up delicious latkes (potato pancakes), which they always served with sweet, cinnamon-spiced applesauce. Heaven! And, the fact that we always got out of religious studies early for the party made the latkes even tastier.
For many years, my own Chanukah menu included the de rigueur latkes and applesauce. Then I moved to Israel and discovered that sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts), rather than latkes, are on the Chanukah menu here. These treats start showing up in the local supermarkets soon after the Jewish holiday of Sukkot. By the time the month of Kislev, when Chanukah is celebrated, rolls around, sufganiyot in all their modern renditions—from the lowly jelly doughnut to crème nougat-filled fried confections with ganache frosting—are everywhere one looks. And I, trying to be virtuous, avoid these extremely fattening, extremely expensive offerings until about a week before Chanukah…when I can no longer restrain myself!
Brass Chanukah menorah manufactured by the Jewish Immigrants on New York’s Lower East Side, c.1915. We also have one like this, inherited from my maternal grandparents.
Alas, my daughter is allergic to wheat and can’t enjoy store-purchased sufganiyot like the rest of us. But no matter. Lucky girl that she is, I’ve found a great sufganiyot recipe that works equally well with white spelt flour. (I would use 70% whole grain spelt, but a Great Hue And Cry would be heard throughout the Schaefer household, because what is the point of junk food if it’s made with whole grain flour?)
Chanukah starts tomorrow (Wednesday) night, the 25th of Kislev. I still need to polish the antique brass menorah, but the olive oil and wicks for the Chanukah lights are ready and waiting. So are the potatoes and onions for the latkes, as well as the white spelt flour for the sufganiyot.
These fried foods are traditional on Chanukah, as they remind us of the miracle of the oil. When the Maccabees rededicated the Holy Temple in Jerusalem after their victory over the Greeks more than 2,000 years ago, the one-day supply of pure oil used to light the Temple menorah burned for eight days and nights—long enough to press new pure oil.
Here are the recipes I’ll be using for my latkes and sufganiyot. Both are easy. All you need is some time and lots and lots of oil.
Latkes
The basic rule for latke making is to use two potatoes per egg. You can increase or decrease the remaining ingredients according to taste. If you are planning on serving latkes for dinner, I recommend making lots of extras as they have a tendency to disappear the moment you put them on the plate to drain.
Traditional potato latkes
6 medium-size potatoes
1 medium onion
2 to 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped (optional)
3 eggs
2 Tbsp. matzoh meal or flour for binding (optional—as latke purists do without)
Salt and pepper to taste
Oil for frying
Grate potatoes and onion by hand (recommended), or chop in food processor fitted with chopping blade (easier, especially if you are harried), taking care not to over process. Ingredients should be slightly coarse. Pour into large bowl and let sit for about 5 minutes. Drain well, or squeeze out liquid with hands. Combine potato-onion mixture with eggs, salt, pepper and garlic. (If you are using a food processor, you can process the garlic with the potatoes and onions.) Mixture should be soft, but not runny. If ingredients are too runny, add a little flour or matzoh meal.
Heat about 1/4 inch of oil in large pan or electric skillet. When oil is hot, drop batter by spoonfuls onto skillet. Turn when golden, and fry on the other side until golden, flattening with spatula and adding more oil if necessary. Remove from pan to drain on plate lined with absorbent paper such as paper towels. Repeat process until remaining batter is used. Serve warm with cinnamon-and-sugar-spiced applesauce, and cottage cheese or brisket.
Sufganiyot
This recipe originated as a doughnut recipe for a Morphy Richards breadmaker machine. I’ve changed the ingredients slightly so that the recipe is non-dairy and uses demerara sugar. I use my breadmaker to prep the dough, but you could just as easily mix it by hand and let it rise in a bowl in a warm place.
Trays of sufganiyot are common sights in Israeli bakeries during Chanukah
1-1/4 cups soy milk (I prefer using vanilla flavored)
1 medium egg, beaten
1/4 cup oil
1/4 cup demerara sugar
1 tsp. salt
3-3/4 cups white spelt or white flour, plus extra for kneading
1-1/2 tsp. dry yeast
If using breadmaker, add the ingredients to the breadmaker pan in the order they are listed. Set the breadmaker machine to the dough cycle and let run.
If mixing by hand, mix the flour and sugar together, then add the yeast. Mix well, then add the salt. Mix soy milk with the egg and oil and add to dry ingredients. Knead well, adding more flour as needed. Place in well-oiled bowl, cover and set aside to rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk.
When dough cycle is finished or the hand-mixed dough has risen, turn out on well-floured board. If you made the dough in the breadmaker, it may be very sticky. In this case, knead in more flour until the dough is workable. Roll dough out to 1/2 inch thickness. Cut into 2-1/2 inch rounds. (I use a large drinking glass, but an empty tin can of the right size would do the trick, too.)
Meanwhile, heat about 2 inches of oil in a large pan or skillet. When oil is hot (Morphy Richards recommends 375 º F/190 º C), fry the doughnuts until brown on both sides. Remove from pan to drain on absorbent paper.
When doughnuts have cooled, fill with strawberry jam or other yummy ingredients—I’m planning on trying vanilla pudding this year—and dust with powdered sugar or top with your favorite frosting.
If you store the doughnuts in a tightly sealed container, they will stay fresh for several days—much longer than the store-bought variety.
