A Fishy Tale

FOOD

CUTLINES

A Fishy Tale

A 100-year-old recipe became a Baron family tradition.

MICHELLE KOBERNICK

SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS PHOTOGRAPHY BY MICHELLE KOBERNICK

My husband’s friend Tony Baron came to visit with him after his recent knee surgery.

I’ve always liked Tony. He is a good guy who is naturally curious; and around me, his questions revolve around food and cooking. These being my favorite subjects, we end up in some focused culinary conversations.

He stopped by the kitchen to find me preparing different meals for Michael’s recovery. True to form, he stayed to ask about everything I was doing. What was I cooking? What was in it? How did I make it?

Over our dinner, the conversation made its way

to cooking, which lead to the upcoming Passover holiday. “You make your own gefilte fish, don’t you?” he asked, assuming all culinarians must. While I learned how to make beautiful terrines and pates in culinary school, made similarly, I had never made gefilte fish. Our family tradition was relying on the jarred innovation and convenience made popular in 1888 and introduced by the B. Manischewitz Company.

Whenever I talk to people that make gefilte fish, it typically accompanies a rich tradition that’s lasted for generations. I learned that Tony’s family has this kind of long-standing gefilte ritual. For more than 20 years, he and his two brothers, Dan and Jeff, have met in Detroit to make gefilte fish with Evelyn, their 96-year-old mother. Evelyn was taught by her mother-in-law Rose. Rose immigrated to the U.S. in 1911 at age 16 from a shtetl near the unstable borders between Russia, the Ukraine and Poland, still in the news today.

BABA ROSE’S RECIPE

“Baba” Rose made her gefilte fish in her American kitchen until she was 94 years old, when Evelyn took over. It was done from memory because no one had ever created an official written recipe. Everything Baba taught Evelyn had been transferred to her through the hands of the women who made it before them. It wasn’t written until the mid-1980s, when their Aunt Luba followed Rose around the kitchen, observing and capturing her steps.

Aunt Luba’s notes are the document the family still uses today. When Tony showed it to me, it was obvious how much it had been enjoyed over the years. Handwritten, it was splashed with years of stains from fish stock, paprika and maybe egg. Notes are scribbled up and down the pages with revisions and updates that modernized the recipe. The Baron family’s version is savory, where others can be sweet, depending on which side of the European divide you are from.

Tony talked about how his mom would insist on going to the market to inspect the eyes of the fish herself, BABA ROSE’S GEFILTE FISH

For the fish stock 8 pounds boned white fish, head, skin and bones reserved 3 large Spanish onions, ends trimmed and scored Kosher salt Quite a lot of pepper Enough water to reach 2½ inches deep in the stock pot Heads, bones and skin of filleted whitefish

Directions

Remove ends and peel onions. Cut a ½-inch deep X cross pattern on the onion ends. Place in the bottom of a large stockpot. Add kosher salt with quite a lot of pepper. Pour enough water into the pot to measure exactly 2½ inches deep and bring to a boil. Add the fish trimmings to the water and return to a boil. Cover and let stock simmer while making the fish.

For The Fish 1 medium bowl of water 3 medium finely chopped onions, sprinkled with Kosher salt 8 pounds deboned and ground whitefish 7 eggs, beaten with a fork 3 level soup spoons of kosher salt 40 shakes of black pepper, plus another 24 3 level soup spoons of matzah meal Fish stock

Directions

Fill a bowl with water for rinsing your hands and set aside.

Place the fish in a colander to drain while preparing the other ingredients. Chop the onions fine, sprinkled with kosher salt. Add the ground fish to the onions. In a separate bowl, beat 7 eggs with a fork. Combine eggs with the fish and onions. Add the kosher salt, black pepper, and matzah meal. Use your hands or a fork to mix well, then taste for taste.

Form the fish to the size of your palm, about threeinch oblong shaped pieces, rinsing hands as needed. Return the stock to a boil and gently lay the fish pieces into the pot with a spoon. Reduce stock to a simmer, then cover the pot leaving an air opening. Cook for 2½ to 3 hours. Cool the fish in the stock. Remove patties from stock and store in the refrigerator. Sprinkle with paprika before serving.

Makes approximately 25, five-ounce patties.

FOOD

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to assess clarity and freshness. They use whitefish and sometimes trout, even though it can be made with carp or pike. Under Evelyn’s strict guidance, the butcher would debone, skin, filet and grind their fish while they shopped. When they returned, they were handed one bag of fillets, and another filled with heads, bones and skins for stock making. I wondered about using chicken stock or bones, also gelatinous, to render a milder, less fishy stock. My attempts to make a culinary contribution with them are still under consideration.

Tony’s explanation for how the stock is made began with peeling and scoring a big X into the cut ends of three large onions, then putting them in a large pot. Next, sprinkle them with kosher salt and “quite a bit of black pepper.”

According to the brothers, Evelyn used a ruler to measure the water at exactly 2½ inches deep. Once the onion and water came to a boil, the fish bones, skins and heads were added. The stock simmers while you make the fish.

The fish instructions were written in the same rustic fashion. It calls for “three level soup spoons” of the salt and matzah meal, which is to be followed by “40 shakes of black pepper, plus another 24.”

After they’re combined, the directions read, “taste for taste.” Realizing the parasitic risks of eating raw lake fish, the cause of “Jewish Grandmother’s Disease,” the brothers reassured me they don’t do that. Like most chefs, they cook off a small amount to assess the seasoning so they can make adjustments before they mold it. The patties get lowered carefully into the broth pot, partially covered, and simmered for a long 2½ to 3 hours.

This amount of cooking time has been an ongoing debate until they started using an instant read food thermometer to check for doneness. They now measure when the fish has reached a safe temperature, which they’ve discovered happens sooner. Temperature is always a more reliable test for doneness to ensure food safety. Once they see 180 degrees, they can safely turn it off. They cool the patties in stock and carefully remove them with a slotted spoon, and store in the refrigerator. Their family adds a sprinkle of paprika for garnish instead of the traditional slice of carrot.

I learned a lot about gefilte fish that night, between the kinds of fish you can use, to the proprietary ingredients of the broth. What I love about his story is how these brothers are preserving the family’s tradition and keeping it alive for their mother and children. They look forward to getting together for this every year. Even after a whole day of grinding, mixing, molding and poaching, they are smiling and having fun. Satisfied with their efforts, they clean up, filled with hope that the fish turns out good this year. If not, that’s okay, too. For families like theirs, there is always next year.

continued from page 29 Sephardic Recipe

Copeland Marks, in Sephardic Cooking: 600 Recipes Created in Exotic Kitchens from Morocco to India, provides this recipe for a sweet Charoset without the vinegar: GRAPE CHAROSET FOR PASSOVER When the grape juice has been reduced to a syrup, it is then known as honey. Mixed with nuts, it is an extraordinary concoction that can be served at any time of the year over ice cream or even as a breakfast jam. A similar halek made from dates is prepared by the Jews of Calcutta, India.

Ingredients 4 pounds juice white grapes ⅓ cup toasted sesame seeds ⅓ cup toasted walnuts

Directions

Juice the grapes ... Discard the dry pulp.

Cook the juice down to a maple syrup consistency, ending with about ⅓ of the total amount of the juice. Thick, but still liquid. Cool.

Grind the sesame seeds and walnuts separately in a processor. Add this to the grape syrup and mix well. This is the charoset of the Kurds.

Northern Jews, called Ashkenazim, follow a tradition, perhaps inspired by Rabbi Levi’s opinion in the Talmud, using raw grated apples (Song of Songs 8:5), walnuts (see Song of Songs 6:11, “I went down to the walnut grove …”) along with red wine and cinnamon to make charoset (Which Ashkenazic Jews call “charoses”).

Another reason for Jews from Northern Europe to use these ingredients: That is what they had. They could not easily acquire dates, figs, grapes or pomegranates, the fruits of Israel.

That is why Ashkenazic Jews have a ritual food called charoses, which we eat as part of the seder, while Mizrachi and Sephardic Jews enjoy halek for charoset at the seder, and at other meals during the year.