Hanukkah

My Nana’s Best Hanukkah Dish Was the One She Didn’t Make

This writer’s grandma bought her gefilte fish, but it was always a treasured part of the holiday meal.

November 26, 2021
Photo by Bobbi Lin

I loved pretty much everything about my Nana. But her cooking? Well, that left something to be desired. We shared a passion for food, but not a palate—she stashed bite-size candy bars between the cushions of her couch, while I claimed salad as my favorite food at the ripe old age of nine. She was known to serve Cheetos on a silver platter at cocktail hour, and did a full-body jig with a glint in her eye when anyone mentioned dessert. I, on the other hand, planted gardens on the rooftops of museums and built a career on the backs of rare vegetables.

Still, when it came to Jewish food, Nana was discerning. She grew up in a kosher household, where “the meat was salted to death,” and she got used to looking beyond her own home for the good stuff—chopped chicken liver, pickled herring, matzo ball soup. While her friends cultivated their hand in the kitchen, she honed her skills for sourcing. Every holiday, she would pose the familiar question to the family: “What should we have for Hanukkah dinner?” We humored her, pretending that there was actually a choice to be made, while knowing full well that a tomatoey, slow-cooked brisket and simple roast chicken was the extent of her repertoire. A lover of anything fried and salty, though, she did get down with some greasy latkes.

Gefilte fish was always the first course, and it came from Fischer Bros. & Leslie on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, the Jewish butcher that Nana had on speed dial. She would order two 12-inch logs of gefilte fish, savory but slightly sweet, pillowy-soft with just the right bounce. There are many different ways to make the dish, but in its essence, gefilte fish is kind of like a Jewish fish ball: Ground whitefish is mixed with bread crumbs or matzo meal, eggs, and aromatic vegetables, formed into balls or logs, then baked or poached and served at room temperature. Aside from the taste and textual experience, I love that this dish was really one of economy—one fish could be stretched pretty darn far with the addition of the aforementioned ingredients. At Nana’s house, there was always enough to go around. She sliced it into rounds and plated it on fine china, a dollop of prepared horseradish on the side with a ceremonious round of boiled carrot as “garnish.” She always ordered extra for me to take home, a special treat for her little pet. This was her famous dish, even though she never made it herself.

Since Nana passed away in 2019, not a morsel of gefilte fish has passed my lips. I moved to Los Angeles, and I refuse to believe that any West Coast gefilte can pass muster. I know this is foolish, since there are clearly no shortage of Jewish delis in this town, but I like to keep my food attached firmly to a place. I eat pizza only in New York, and tacos only in L.A.

Until now, I have never been inclined to buy gefilte fish or make it myself. Part of the pleasure of the dish was the way it was gifted to me in an act of very specific, Jewish grandmotherly love. This coming Hanukkah will be the first that I host myself. And now that I am a mother of two, the time has come. My first impulse was to see if I could order the gefilte to be sent from New York to Pasadena, but the extravagance of that felt antithetical to the spirit of the dish, making magic with the humble ingredients to which one has access. I decided I will try my hand at making my own, and maybe even give it my own twist so as not to force the comparison with the one I know so well from my youth. Add some fennel maybe, or fresh herbs? Make it mine, in an attempt to honor the tradition as an evolving, living ritual more than a recipe stuck in time.

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Top Comment:
“My mother has been long gone. She was not a gourmet cook, although she perused gourmet magazines and made occasional forays to downtown Chicago, where she sourced "gourmet" canned goods, especially Le Seur petite peas. She had monthly deliveries from a kosher butcher on the Northside of Chicago. She carefully wrapped her haul, which included lamb chops, beauty steaks, beef tenderloin strips arranged in a circle and secured with long tooth picks, and the occasional brisket, in aluminum foil. My brother and I referred to the contents of her freezer as mystery meat, as nothing was labeled. But her piece de resistance was her homemade gefilte fish, made only for Jewish holidays. Filets of Lake Superior white fish and pike were loaded into a heavy metal grinder, along with onion. The fish mixture came out of the grinder in spirals with a sausage like consistency. Seasoned, with additional ingredients added--I think matzah meal, the fish was molded into ovals, and simmered with fish bones and carrots until fully cooked and the broth formed a jell upon cooling. I have made several attempts to make this delicacy, all unsuccessful. My first attempt was a recipe in the New York Times magazine, from Barry Wine of the Quilted Giraffe, a highly regarded gourmet restaurant at the time. This riff on traditional gefilte fish, involved a tea flavored broth. Needless to say, the gefilte fish had a strong tea flavor. in an attempt to correct this misstep, i dumped the broth and simmered the fish with the traditional ingredients. Other attempts were mediocre at best. I was never able to get the broth to jell. My mother also made world class blintzes that I still dream about. ”
— linda A.
Comment

Whatever my results, I will continue to defend the gefilte’s reputation, my haunches up should anyone balk at the sound of it. Tell me it’s gross, and I can be sure you have never had “Nana’s.” If you live in New York, I will direct you to Fischer Bros. & Leslie, where they have been churning out kosher classics since 1949, and will free you from past trauma due to some unfortunate encounter with the supermarket jar of palid lumpen flesh, suspended in a matrix of primordial jelly. Shame on you Manischewitz; you have given a perfectly lovely dish a bad name. I implore you nonbelievers to seek out the top-shelf product, suspending judgement until you try some of the best.

What’s your favorite Hanukkah dish? Let us know in the comments.
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  • linda aronson
    linda aronson
  • VeraP
    VeraP
I'm an artist based in Brooklyn, with an active salad blog.

2 Comments

linda A. November 27, 2021
My mother has been long gone. She was not a gourmet cook, although she perused gourmet magazines and made occasional forays to downtown Chicago, where she sourced "gourmet" canned goods, especially Le Seur petite peas. She had monthly deliveries from a kosher butcher on the Northside of Chicago. She carefully wrapped her haul, which included lamb chops, beauty steaks, beef tenderloin strips arranged in a circle and secured with long tooth picks, and the occasional brisket, in aluminum foil. My brother and I referred to the contents of her freezer as mystery meat, as nothing was labeled. But her piece de resistance was her homemade gefilte fish, made only for Jewish holidays. Filets of Lake Superior white fish and pike were loaded into a heavy metal grinder, along with onion. The fish mixture came out of the grinder in spirals with a sausage like consistency. Seasoned, with additional ingredients added--I think matzah meal, the fish was molded into ovals, and simmered with fish bones and carrots until fully cooked and the broth formed a jell upon cooling. I have made several attempts to make this delicacy, all unsuccessful. My first attempt was a recipe in the New York Times magazine, from Barry Wine of the Quilted Giraffe, a highly regarded gourmet restaurant at the time. This riff on traditional gefilte fish, involved a tea flavored broth. Needless to say, the gefilte fish had a strong tea flavor. in an attempt to correct this misstep, i dumped the broth and simmered the fish with the traditional ingredients. Other attempts were mediocre at best. I was never able to get the broth to jell. My mother also made world class blintzes that I still dream about.
 
VeraP November 28, 2021
Linda, to make the broth to jell, you will need gelatinous parts of fish in the pot: head, tail and fins. My grandmother put a layer of sliced beets and carrots first then the head, tail and fins. She continued with the layers of oval fish patties alternating with layers of beet and carrot slices. The broth was tasty and had a beautiful colour. The fish patties also had a nice colour. Hope that is helpful.