Life – Page 6

Teshuvah: a guide to repentance

Twelfth-century Jewish thinker Moses Maimonides described the sound of the shofar at Rosh Hashanah as a wake-up call for the soul. (photo from flickr.com/photos/gsankary)

The sound of the shofar at Rosh Hashanah, the great 12th-century Jewish thinker Moses Maimonides wrote, is a wake-up call for the soul. Its message: “Arise from your slumber! Search your ways and return in teshuvah and remember your Creator!”

Teshuvah is the central theme of the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, known collectively as the Ten Days of Teshuvah. Typically, teshuvah is translated from the Hebrew as repentance, but it literally means return, as if turning back to something you’ve strayed or looked away from. But that begs the question: return to what? Depending on the time and place, there have been different answers – God, a state of moral purity, the Jewish people and Israel.

The Jewish Experience at Brandeis University asked Near Eastern and Judaic studies professor Yehudah Mirsky about the history of teshuvah. Mirsky, who is also a faculty member of the Schusterman Centre for Israel Studies, is the author of Rav Kook: Mystic in a Time of Revolution (Yale University Press).

Ancient Teshuvah

The Hebrew Bible sees teshuvah as principally a return to God. “Come, let us return to the Lord,” the prophet Hoshea (14:2) tells the people of Israel.

In Psalm 51, King David seeks teshuvah for committing adultery with Bathsheba. Importantly, David’s confession is addressed to God because, as he says, “Against You alone have I sinned.”

Traditional rabbinical commentators have interpreted this to mean that teshuvah requires confessing your sins to God. Part of achieving intimacy with Him involves His knowing your sins. And only in that way can you return to Him.

Talmudic teshuvah

For centuries after the destruction by Rome in 70 CE of Jerusalem’s ancient temple, where Jews would say confession and offer sacrifices for atonement, the rabbis reworked biblical ideas and practices of teshuvah into a roadmap for spiritual and moral growth.

In the Mishnah and the Talmud, the vast collections of law, theology, interpretation, folklore and more compiled roughly between 200 and 500 CE, they called for introspection, changing one’s ways, and asking others for forgiveness.

This line of thinking reached its apotheosis in Maimonides’ Hilkhot Teshuvah (The Laws of Return). He placed confession and regret at the centre of repentance so that teshuvah, according to Mirsky, became a process of “moral and spiritual self-cultivation and self-education.”

Teshuvah was no mechanical act. It had to involve genuine contrition and the individual becoming a better person. In addition to being a scholar, philosopher, jurist and communal leader, Maimonides was also a physician.

“One senses his medical sensibility was at work here, too,” said Mirsky. “Transgression sickened the soul and teshuvah is the cure, a return to full spiritual and moral health.”

Cosmic teshuvah

Already during the talmudic period, rabbis had begun talking about teshuvah as a spiritual energy flowing through the universe that was created by God when He made the earth.

The medieval mystics who wrote the great texts of the kabbalah took this even further. They said teshuvah comes not only from inside the individual but is also a dynamic force all around us. To repent, you tap into it. As Mirsky put it, “You catch the wave.”

In the 13th-century Zohar, the foundational work of Jewish mysticism, teshuvah became a way of repairing a rupture or tear in the spiritual fabric of the universe. When the varying energies at work in the world – justice and mercy, male and female, tradition and change – go out of whack, teshuvah helps to rebalance them. In other mystical texts, return is seen as a kind of rebirth and the achievement of the soul’s deepest freedom.

Some 300 years later, Rabbi Isaac Luria, the great mystic of Safed in northern Israel, famously connected teshuvah with tikkun olam (healing the world). Through teshuvah, Jews perfect God’s work, helping usher in the Messianic Age.

For Luria, this largely meant a kind of spiritual healing. But, over time, and especially in the last century, Jews have begun to connect this to ideas of social justice, adding another layer of interpretation to Jewish messianic ideals.

Teshuvah and Israel

In Mirsky’s view, the Zionist movement secularized and redefined teshuvah.

Political passivity, which the rabbis thought was anathema to the survival of the Jewish people, was now considered a sin. Repenting involved identifying with the nationalist yearnings of the Jewish people for a homeland. In this way, teshuvah returned Jews in the diaspora to Israel, and the Jews as a whole to a more vital sense of group identity.

Kook’s teshuvah

Past and present interpretations of teshuvah came together in the work of Abraham Isaac Kook, the first Ashkenazi chief rabbi of modern Palestine and the leading thinker of religious Zionism. To him, all existence is rooted in God and seeks to return to God. That return takes the form of religious practice, social and ethical commitment, art and culture – everything we consciously do to make the world better for the Jewish people and ultimately all of humanity. And, all of these elements – the ritual and ethical, material and intellectual, the Jewish and universal – all need one another to do God’s work in the world. (For more on Kook, see Mirsky’s book.)

American teshuvah

Teshuvah in the United States reflects the inescapable individualism of American life. The great American Jewish thinker Abraham Joshua Heschel linked teshuvah to the nation’s ethos of spiritual growth and renewal. He wrote:

“The sense of inadequacy ought to be at the very centre of the day [Yom Kippur].… To put contrition another way, develop a sense of embarrassment.… We have no answer to ultimate problems. We really don’t know. In this not knowing, in this sense of embarrassment, lies the key to opening the wells of creativity.

One belief all Jewish thinkers share about teshuvah – the process only begins during the High Holidays. It’s afterward when the real work begins.

For more on teshuvah during the Middle Ages, see Mirsky’s article, “How a lover of wisdom returns” in Sources Journal (sourcesjournal.org/articles/how-a-lover-of-wisdom-returns).

– from the Jewish Experience / Brandeis University

Shattering complacency

The existential themes of the High Holidays are meant to create a sensitivity and appreciation of the precious significance of everyday existence. (Jordan Gillard Photography)

The themes of death and the “thinness” of human existence recur in the liturgy of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and during the entire period, beginning with the month of Elul. This is not because of a morbid desire to undermine human confidence and autonomy or to shock us into fearing God out of a sense of helplessness and sin. The existential themes of the High Holidays are meant to create a sensitivity and appreciation of the precious significance of everyday existence.

Existentialists spoke about confronting one’s mortality as a necessary condition for achieving human authenticity. Although a preoccupation with death can create nihilism and a paralyzing sense of the futility of human initiative, nevertheless, the Jewish tradition believed that the themes of human mortality and finitude could be integrated into a constructive and life-affirming vision of life.

The language of the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur prayers, such as the explicit enumeration of the different ways that a human life can be destroyed, is not meant to terrorize us into self-negating submission. The stark, evocative imagery of the liturgy is aimed primarily at shattering complacency. The impact of this experience can be life-affirming insofar as it serves as a catalyst in a process of self-creation and moral renewal.

Focusing on human mortality and the contingencies that wreak havoc upon human lives heightens our sensitivity to the deadening effects of habit and routine. People often deceive themselves into believing that they can successfully defer living the kind of lives they consider worthwhile until some future time. While not questioning the importance of reflecting on the meaning of one’s life, they believe they can postpone dealing with this issue.

“Why become confused and troubled by the meaning of my life now? I can deal with it later, when I retire, when economic realities are more favourable, when I will be free of parental responsibilities.…” This attitude is naïve and self-deceptive because it ignores the real consequences of present patterns of behaviour and learning that can weaken and that ultimately extinguishes one’s natural capacity to live life deeply and seriously.

Another theme of Yom Kippur, teshuvah, is expressed in the call to return, to renew, to re-create one’s self, and in the appeal for divine forgiveness and atonement, in the recitation of “for the sin we have sinned …” and other confessional sections of the liturgy. The essence of teshuvah – the crucial principle without which this concept would be empty of meaning – is the belief that the past need not define the future. A person can break the causal chain of habit and defy the seeming necessity of repetition that suffocates spontaneity and the joy of life.

The call to teshuvah, therefore, is expressed not only in the plea to God for forgiveness and in the affirmation of God’s gracious love and reluctance to mete out punishment and retribution, but also, and most poignantly, in the repeated attempts at convincing the individual to believe in the possibility of change. The personal significance of Yom Kippur ultimately turns on the individual’s ability to believe that his or her life can be different. The major obstacle to teshuvah is not whether God will forgive us but whether we can forgive ourselves – whether we can believe in our own ability to change the direction of our lives, even minimally.

Teshuvah is grounded in the idea of an open future, in the belief that the possibilities for human change have not been exhausted, that the final chapters of our personal narratives have not yet been written. The sense of empowerment felt on Yom Kippur reflects an underlying faith in the power of the human will to break the fixed cycles of the past and to chart new possibilities for the future.

Many scholars who take issue with translating God’s name, ehyeh asher ehyeh, which was revealed to Moses at the burning bush as “I am that I am,” insist on emphasizing the future orientation of the verb ehyeh, “I will be.” For many, the Jewish concept of God must convey the idea of newness – of new spiritual possibilities in the future, of new ways of understanding and of relating to God. To sense the presence of God in one’s life is to believe in the possibility of radical surprise and of genuine human change.

Communal forms of worship must not be allowed to degenerate into automated, mind-numbing exercises in herd conformity. Our rabbis taught that, although Jews stood as a people at Mt. Sinai, each individual personally appropriated the word of God. We must not be intimidated by the High Holiday prayer book. Although we share a common liturgy, we must be capable of appropriating its significance in terms of our individual lives and concerns. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur challenge us to discover the meaning of personal authenticity and self-renewal within the context of community.

Rabbi Prof. David Hartman (1931-2013) was founder of the Shalom Hartman Institute. This article was first published in September 2009. Articles by Hartman, z”l, and other institute scholars can be found at shalomhartman.org.

Rosh Hashanah table talk

In his diaries, Franz Kafka reflected that our not knowing “the real highway” we’re on means that “we drift in doubt. But, also in an unbelievable, beautiful diversity. Thus, the accomplishment of hopes remains an always unexpected miracle.” (photo from Piotr Malecki)

The Chassidic Rebbe Haim of Tzanz told this parable: A person had been wandering about in the forest for several days, unable to find a way out. Finally, in the distance, he saw another person approaching him, and his heart filled with joy. He thought to himself: “Now, surely, I shall find a way out of the forest.” When they neared each other, he asked the other person, “Brother, will you please tell me the way out of the forest?”

The other replied: “Brother, I also do not know the way out, for I, too, have been wandering about here for many days. But, this much I can tell you. Do not go the way I have gone, for I know that is not the way. Now come, let us search for the way out together.” (Adapted from S.Y. Agnon, The Days of Awe)

Perhaps this is a story to read at your Rosh Hashanah table, to start a discussion about your – and your guests’ – hopes for new direction in life. Think about a new path you would like to explore this coming year, or let others know about an old path you have tried that they might best avoid.

In his diaries, Franz Kafka, the 20th-century Czech Jewish writer, reflected on the difficulty of finding our way and yet our eternal hope:

“If we knew we were on the right road, having to leave it would mean endless despair. But we are on a road that only leads to a second one and then to a third one and so forth. And the real highway will not be sighted for a long, long time, perhaps never. So, we drift in doubt. But, also in an unbelievable, beautiful diversity. Thus, the accomplishment of hopes remains an always unexpected miracle. But, in compensation, the miracle remains forever possible.”

The poet and Bible scholar Joel Rosenberg speaks of Rosh Hashanah as a homecoming, rather than as journeying:

“The Hebrew word for year – shana – means change. But its sense is two-fold: on the one hand, change of cycle, repetition (Hebrew, l’shanot, reiterate, from sh’naim, two), but, on the other hand, it means difference (as in the [the Pesach seder when we ask] mah nishtana? How is this night different?) We are the same, we are different. We repeat, we learn, we recapitulate. We encounter something new. ‘Shana tova!’ means, ‘Have a good change!’”

And yet, how familiar is this time! The chant, the faces, the dressed-up mood, the calling on the same God, the words, the blessings, the bread, the apples, the honey, the wine – all are the same, and yet completely new. We meet ourselves again and for the first time.

A year that begins anew is also the fruit of the year that preceded. Good or bad, it has made us wiser. It will not constrain us. We choose from it what we want and need like gifts we brought from journeys. Rosh Hashanah is always like coming home – just as Pesach was always going on a journey.

“How do we find our Divine Parent who is in Heaven? How do we find our Parent who is in Heaven? By good deeds and the study of Torah.

“How does the Blessed Holy One find us – through love, through brotherhood, through respect, through companionship, through truth, through peace, through bending the knee, through humility, through more study, through less commerce, through the personal service to our teachers, through discussion among the students, through a good heart, through decency, through No that is really No, and through Yes that is really Yes.” (Midrash Seder Eliyahu Rabbah 23)

Noam Zion is a senior fellow emeritus of the Kogod Research Centre at the Shalom Hartman Institute. He has developed study guides on Bible, holidays and rabbinic ethics. His publications and worldwide lectures have focused on “homemade Judaism” – empowering families to create their own pluralistic Judaism. This article was originally published in 2014; it is adapted from his Rosh Hashanah seder. Articles by Zion and other Hartman Institute scholars can be found at shalomhartman.org.

May you leave with laughter

Ahrida Synagogue is one of the two still-functioning synagogues in the Balat neighbourhood of Istanbul. (photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)

On my first trip to Israel just after graduating high school, I met a similar-aged Turkish Jew. He was also visiting Israel. He spoke no Hebrew or English, so I tried my then-proficient Spanish. Surprisingly, he responded, although not all the words he used were familiar to me. I didn’t know then that he was speaking Ladino, or Judeo-Spanish. Slow forward several years to May 2023, when I finally visited Istanbul for the first time.

While I only recently “made it” to Turkey, Jews have been there for a very long time. If you take a biblical approach, you know that, when the flood ended, Noah’s ark rested on Mt. Ararat, near Anatolia, Turkey. If you take an historic approach, Jews have lived in what is now Turkey since Roman times.

While most members of the Jewish community in Istanbul today trace themselves back to the Jews who were forced out of Spain and Portugal in the late 1400s and early 1500s, there have also been communities of Karaites, Jews who do not accept rabbinic law, but rely solely on what is written in the Hebrew Bible. As of 2014, they numbered less than 100 in Istanbul.

Sultan Beyazid II welcomed the Jews from Spanish-speaking countries – when Spain expelled its Jews and Muslims in 1492, Beyazid sent his navy to evacuate them to Ottoman lands.

Among the Jews in Turkey in the 1500s was widowed businesswoman Doña Gracia (1510-1569). Originally from Portugal, which ordered Jews to convert to Catholicism a handful of years after Spain’s decree, she moved to Istanbul so she could openly practise her Judaism. Having been a “conversa” (forced convert), she was keen to help others in the same situation. She established yeshivot and synagogues in Istanbul. She also was the first woman printer and publisher in the Ottoman Empire. She lived in the European quarter of Galata.

Doña Gracia was not the only Jew to do well in Turkey. A number of Jews had successful businesses. Many dealt with precious metals and stones; others were money changers or lenders. In the 1500s, Hekim Jacob served as Sultan Mehmed II’s personal physician – by 1800, Jews would make up 27% of all licensed physicians in Istanbul. Even today, Balat’s 120-bed Jewish Hospital or Yahudi Hastanesi is still functioning, although the patients aren’t usually Jews.

In 1666, the false messiah Shabbtai Tzvi made an appearance in Istanbul. He had visited other countries when there was the breakdown of the social order or the economy was on the decline. The opinion of Jews in Istanbul (then called Constantinople and the capital of Turkey) was divided, but the majority feared his appearance would be the cause for actions against Jews in general. When those who were attracted by his messianic enthusiasm went out to meet him and pay him homage, opponents informed the grand vizier and he ordered Shabbtai Tzvi’s arrest. After Shabbtai Tzvi’s conversion, the communal leadership decided on a course of damage control, downplaying the false messiah incident, including by attempting to prevent discussion on the subject.

At the beginning of the 20th century, the Jewish population in Istanbul was 100,000. Today, there are fewer than 20,000 Jews in all of Turkey and a new wave of emigration has started. Contributing factors are President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s tumultuous 20-year rule, with its up-and-down relationship with Israel, rising antisemitism, perceived threats to the personal security of Jews and rising anti-Jewish discrimination from Turkish society, as well as the country’s unabated inflation. Altogether, since Israel became a state, some 100,000 to 150,000 Jews have left Turkey for Israel.

In Istanbul’s Balat neighbourhood, for example, where, at one point, more than half the population was Jewish, the Turkish bath or cavus Hammami (el bano de Balat in Ladino) that was frequented by Jews in the neighbourhood is apparently still running but most synagogues have closed. In Balat, only two are still functional: Ahrida Synagogue, with its unusual bima in the shape of the prow of a boat, and Yanbol Synagogue.

Today, most of Istanbul’s Jews are Sephardi, with only about 600 individuals who identify as Ashkenazi. Yet, Etz HaHaim Synagogue, also known as Ortakoy Synagogue (for the neighbourhood in which it is situated) holds combined services for both Sephardim and Ashkenazim.

photo - Istanbul’s Ortakoy Synagogue, also known as Etz HaHaim, holds combined services for both Sephardim and Ashkenazim — Istanbul’s Ortakoy Synagogue, also known as Etz HaHaim, holds combined services for both Sephardim and Ashkenazim. (photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)

Istanbul’s Neve Shalom Synagogue (and mikvah) has been the site of two major terrorist attacks. In September 1986, Arab terrorists staged an attack with guns and grenades on worshippers in the synagogue, killing 23. In November 2003, a car bomb exploded outside the synagogue during a bar mitzvah service. Hundreds of people – mostly Turkish Muslims who lived or worked in the area – were wounded and over a dozen were killed. For security, there is now a guard post in front of the synagogue and the adjacent Jewish museum and those interested in visiting must show proper identification.

As far as eating in Turkey, aubergines (eggplants) are plentiful in the summer, so most meals include either fried, baked or stuffed aubergines. Empanadas, as they are called in Spain, are usually referred to as börekas or börekitas in the Sephardi cuisine in Turkey, using the word börek for the same type of Turkish pastries. A tapada is prepared in a pie fashion, baked in a tray with a variety of fillings – best, of course, with aubergines.

Food expert Claudia Roden whose grandmother came from Istanbul, offers a recipe for prasifouchi, a creamy leek pâté that was traditionally served as a dairy evening meal in Turkey during Pesach. It is made with leeks, potatoes, eggs, kashkaval cheese, nutmeg, salt and pepper and sunflower oil. (See The Book of Jewish Food: An Odyssey from Samarkand to New York, page 527.)

There are at best two kosher restaurants in Istanbul. While not at all fancy, there is also a centrally located vegan café.

If you visit Turkey, güle güle gidin, may you leave with lots of laughter, ie. with a smile on your face, having had a good time.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.

Homemade fun food & toys

Healthy food can make for a fun snack. The website hello, Yummy has lots of ideas about cooking for and with kids. This banana car with strawberry wheels and a graham cracker bear driver is but one option. (photo from helloyummy.co)

If I had a dollar for every time I heard a parent tell their kid to stop playing with their food, I’d be a very rich woman. I might even be able to afford a kosher prime rib roast. That being said, I’m here to tell you that sometimes it’s perfectly acceptable to play with your food. Like when there’s a banana strawberry car involved. Or maybe some peanut butter.

Anticipating the visit of my grand-nephew and grand-niece got me thinking about how we could have some fun together in the kitchen – without sending anyone to hospital or having to move afterwards. The 3-year-old, Raphael, loves to help his mom cook and bake, so I figured this would be the perfect way to bond with him. His 1-year-old sister, Ariel, might not be adept enough for the culinary process, but I’m sure she’ll eagerly participate in the finished product.

I think we can all agree that food is more fun when you can play with it. It brings out the inner kid in us, the one who’s just dying to squish mashed potatoes through our teeth. Unseemly behaviour for an adult? Sure. Have we all done it? You betcha. And who among us hasn’t rolled Wonderbread into soft little balls? The fact that edible toys are, for the most part, healthy, is a win-win. You just need to make good food choices.

For the super-fun banana car snack I found online (helloyummy.co) all you need is a banana, a couple of strawberries, some peanut butter to attach the “wheels” to the body of the banana car and a graham cracker “driver” (an animal cracker hippo or elephant works perfectly well, too). As for the strawberry “wheels” you could replace them with thick slices of kiwi, mango or even grapes. If you really want to get decadent, you could dip the banana wheels into melted chocolate, add a red licorice tailpipe, or tuck some raisins or blueberries into the “wheels” to simulate hubcaps. The possibilities are truly endless.

While the original recipe calls for using toothpicks to attach the wheels to the body of the car, I’m hesitant to do that, considering there’s a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old involved. It’s a foregone recipe for disaster.

Instead, I’m sticking with peanut butter as the adhesive (a glob of cream cheese could also work in a pinch). And, yes, I checked with their mom first to make sure neither of them is allergic to peanuts. Given that both kids were practically weaned on Bamba (the peanut-flavoured melt-in-your-mouth Israeli snack food), I figured I was safe on that count, but it’s always good to check with the parents.

Since I’m not sure of the practical play factor of these banana car snacks, there won’t be any makeshift racetracks as part of this edible experiment. (Will the wheels even turn? I doubt it.) Although I did see lots of great ideas on Google and Instagram.

Lucky for me that little Raphael and Ariel are the opposite of picky eaters. In fact, they’ll pretty much devour anything in sight. It doesn’t matter how esoteric, spicy, slimy, crunchy or smelly it is, they’re game to try it. And, if you transform the food into some kind of insect, animal or character they recognize, even better. All it takes is a bit of ingenuity and some basic foodstuffs. The look of sheer wonder on a kid’s face when they see an insect made out of celery, apples and pretzels, and then you tell them they can eat it – well, nothing beats that.

So, go ahead and play with your food, make mealtime and snack time fun, and let your imagination soar. It’s unquestionably a healthier choice than plopping kids down in front of a screen, plus it encourages innovation, resourcefulness and artistic expression.

Aside from fun food snacks, I’m a bit addicted to Instagram for all the cool DIY toys you can make for toddlers and preschoolers using nothing more than leftover paper towel rolls, ping pong balls, a plastic straw, a bit of tape and some kids scissors. As a former children’s librarian, I have all sorts of craft tricks up my sleeve, and I love the uniqueness of homemade toys. But I definitely need a craft refresh now and again.

I’m always a little disheartened by the number of adults whose go-to gifts involve ordering overpriced toys online. I know that not everyone has the time or inclination to make a gift, but I sometimes think our culture has just gotten lazy. And how many times have you seen a well-intentioned adult (with a lot of disposable income) buy a 2-year-old a $75 toy only to have the kid show more interest in the box or the bubble wrap? Expensive does not always equate to fabulous toys. Put some time and thoughtfulness into it, and I guarantee your DIY gift will be memorable.

The second summer of the pandemic, I made a bunch of felt animals for then-2-year-old Raphael and, according to his parents, he loved them. He’d stick them on any surface within reach, and they were a great way to learn animal names and have fun doing it. I’m not saying they were newsworthy, but they were all handmade with love.

And making them was not as onerous as you might think. Just find some free templates on Google, print them out, buy some felt and glue at the dollar store, do some tracing, and boom – you’ve got yourself some mighty fine felt board animals. Aside from putting them on surfaces throughout the house, you can cover a poster-size piece of corrugated plastic with felt (again, dollar store material) and use the animals to make up stories on the board.

It’s my belief that, if you make it, they will come. If you buy it, they may just play with the box instead. See you at the grocery or dollar store.

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Salmon fillets … and potatoes

Salmon fillets make for an easy main course. (photo from thebrilliantkitchen.com)

Salmon makes for a nice main course. Besides being high in protein, iron, Vitamin D and potassium, it is high in omega-3 fatty acids. It can be served with so many things. Healthy sides include steamed vegetables or a salad. But potatoes also mesh well, especially when the recipes include Parmesan cheese. Here are a few salmon options, and a couple of potato sides.

ROASTED SALMON WITH OLIVE-MUSTARD BUTTER AND ORZO
(This recipe by Michelle Anna Jordan is from an April 2001 Bon Appétit magazine. It makes 8 servings.)

1/2 cup butter
12 Kalamata or other pitted, chopped olives
1 chopped shallot
1 tbsp chopped Italian parsley
2 tsp Dijon mustard
salt and pepper
olive oil
8 6- to 8-ounce salmon fillets, 1.25 to 1.5 inches thick
2 1/2 cups orzo
whole Kalamata olives
fresh Italian parsley sprigs

Mix butter, chopped olives, shallot, parsley and mustard in processor until blended but slightly chunky. Season with salt and pepper and transfer to small bowl.

Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush a large, rimmed baking sheet with olive oil. Place salmon on sheet. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast 14 minutes.

Cook orzo in a large pot of boiling, salted water until tender but firm. Drain and return to pot. Add half of olive-mustard butter and toss.

Divide orzo among eight plates. Top each with a salmon fillet. Place a small dollop of olive-mustard butter atop each fillet. Garnish with whole olives and parsley.

BROILED SALMON
(This recipe by Simone Zarmati Diament appeared in the Jerusalem Post in 2015. It makes 6-8 servings.)

1 whole 1.5- to 2-inch thick salmon fillet
olive oil or vegetable oil spray
4 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp liquid smoke
2-3 minced garlic cloves

Cover a large, shallow baking pan with foil and grease or spray with oil. Fifteen to 30 minutes before cooking, place fish, skin side down, on the pan. Spread soy sauce, liquid smoke and garlic evenly over fish.

Broil or bake at 400°F for 10 to 12 minutes. Transfer to a platter and serve.

BAKED SALMON FILLETS
(4 servings)

4 portions salmon fillets
2 tsp dry oregano
4 minced garlic cloves
pepper to taste
2 thinly sliced tomatoes
2 small thinly sliced onions
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1/2 cup dry breadcrumbs
2 tbsp vegetable oil

Preheat oven to 450°F. Spray a shallow baking pan with non-stick oil. Place fish in pan and sprinkle with oregano, garlic and pepper. Layer with tomatoes, onions and parsley. Mix breadcrumbs with oil and sprinkle on top of fillets. Bake for eight to 10 minutes.

CHANTILLY POTATOES WITH A PARMESAN CRUST
(This recipe is by the late Maria Guarnaschelli. It makes 6 servings.)

2 pounds cut and peeled potatoes, cut into 2-inch chunks
salt to taste
1/2 cup cold milk
7 tbsp unsalted butter
pepper to taste
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Put potatoes in a large saucepan, cover with water, add salt and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 12 minutes. Drain and shake to dry in a ricer, then transfer to a bowl and beat in milk and six tablespoons of butter. Season with salt and pepper.

Preheat oven to 400°F. Butter a rectangular baking dish.

In another bowl, whip cream to soft peaks. Beat into potatoes one-third at a time. Scrape into baking dish. Dot with one tablespoon butter and the Parmesan cheese. Bake for 25 minutes, then broil two minutes, until brown. Let stand 10 minutes and serve.

PARMESAN FRENCH FRIES
(4 servings)

4 potatoes cut into sticks
ice water
1/4 cup margarine
onion or garlic salt to taste
paprika to taste1/4 cup Parmesan cheese

Place potatoes in a bowl. Cover with ice water and let sit 30 minutes. Drain and dry.

Preheat oven to 450°F. Melt margarine and add to baking dish, then add the potatoes sticks, coating them well. Sprinkle with onion or garlic salt and paprika. Bake for 25 minutes or until tender and brown. Remove from oven and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.

Sybil Kaplan is a Jerusalem-based journalist and author. She has edited/compiled nine kosher cookbooks and is a food writer for North American Jewish publications. She leads walks of the Jewish food market, Machaneh Yehudah, in English.

Tasty, easy summer meals

Salad Niçoise can be made and plated in a variety of ways. (photo from pxhere.com/MariaPolna)

Summer meals should be easy and, ideally, quick to make after a long day at work or having fun – or when it’s really hot outside. When you don’t want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen, salads and pasta are perfect options.

SALADE NIÇOISE
(6 servings)

1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 tsp sugar
salt and pepper to taste
1 pound trimmed green beans
2 cups arugula (optional)
1 thinly sliced red onion
2 tomatoes cut into wedges (or equivalent in cherry tomatoes)
1/2 cup pitted ripe olives
1 2-oz can anchovy fillets
2 7-oz cans drained tuna, broken into chunks
2 sliced hard-boiled eggs

For the dressing, place the olive oil, vegetable oil, red wine vinegar, sugar, salt and pepper in a jar, close the lid and shake vigorously.

For the salad, place green beans in a saucepan with small amount boiling, salted water, cover and cook 17-20 minutes. Drain. Turn into bowl. Add half cup of dressing, toss, cover and refrigerate two hours.

After the two hours, turn beans into a salad bowl or plate layered with some arugula (if using). Add a few onion slices, tomato wedges, olives and anchovy fillets. Add tuna and egg slices. Garnish with rest of onion. Drizzle remaining dressing.

CAESAR ON THE LIGHT SIDE
(This Food & Wine recipe is by Jamie Oliver. It makes 4 servings.)

1/3 cup low-fat or nonfat Greek-style yogurt
2 mashed anchovy fillets (optional)
1 minced garlic clove
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, divided
salt and pepper to taste
1 large head romaine lettuce, torn into bite-size pieces

In a small bowl, whisk yogurt with anchovies (if using), garlic, lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce. Whisk in the oil and half the cheese. Season with salt and pepper.

Toss the romaine in a large bowl with half the dressing and the remaining cheese. Serve, with the other half of the dressing on the table, for guests who would like a little more.

Oliver turns this into a main course by adding broiled salmon or, if you don’t keep kosher, grilled chicken breast.

CHEESY MEDITERRANEAN ARTICHOKE PASTA
(8 servings)

8 oz cooked and drained penne pasta
1 14.5-oz can drained diced tomatoes\
1 14-oz can drained, quartered artichoke hearts
1 2.25-oz. can sliced, ripe, pitted olives
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup shredded Parmesan cheese

Place tomatoes, artichoke hearts and olives in a saucepan. Add olive oil and hot pasta and warm until thoroughly heated, about five minutes. Add cheese and serve immediately.

TWO-CHEESE PENNE
(4 servings)

3 to 4 tbsp olive oil
2 or 3 minced garlic cloves or 2/3 cup chopped onion or both
3 1/2 cups or so chopped ripe tomatoes
pepper to taste
4 1/2 cups penne
3 tbsp chopped fresh basil
3/4 to 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
3/4 cup cubed mozzarella cheese

Heat three to four tablespoons olive oil in a frying pan. Sauté garlic for 15 seconds. If using onion, sauté for five minutes.

Add tomatoes and salt and cook 10 to 15 minutes. Remove one-third of sauce to a bowl. Add one tablespoon basil to frying pan and stir it in.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add penne and cook eight or nine minutes. Drain and add to frying pan. Coat with sauce.

Remove from heat and add one tablespoon basil and the grated Parmesan cheese. Mix well. Add mozzarella and toss until it starts to melt. Pour into a bowl and add remaining oil and pepper.

Toss gently and add the remaining one tablespoon of basil. Serve immediately.

A mocktail, anyone?

Cool down with some mock sangria. (photo from commons.wikimedia.org/Ilker Ender)

Whether you’re inviting friends over or just having a quiet evening at home, try these mocktails, non-alcoholic drinks, with snacks or appetizers.

MOCK SANGRIA
(12 servings)

8 cups grape juice
2 cups orange juice
2 cans lemon-lime soda
1 sliced orange
1 sliced lemon
1 1/2 cups drained maraschino cherries

In a pitcher, combine grape juice, orange juice and lemon-lime soda. Add orange slices, lemon slices and cherries and mix gently. Serve in fancy glasses over ice.

MOCK CHAMPAGNE
(6-8 servings)

1 1/3 cups sugar
1 1/3 cups water
2 cups grapefruit juice
1 cup orange juice
6 tbsp grenadine
7 cups ginger ale

Combine sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to a boil for 10 minutes then let cool. Add grapefruit juice and orange juice to syrup and chill. To serve, put syrup in a pitcher, add grenadine and ginger ale and mix gently. Serve in champagne glasses.

SPARKLING APPLE PUNCH
(8 servings)

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
24 minced mint leaves
1 cup lime juice
4 cups apple juice
1/2 tsp salt
seltzer or club soda

Dip fancy glass rims in lemon juice then in sugar and chill. In a saucepan, boil sugar and water for eight minutes. Place mint leaves in a large pitcher and pour syrup over. Let cool. Add lime juice, apple juice and salt. Pour into glasses. Add seltzer or club soda.

A foolproof eggplant recipe

Rebbetzin Chanie’s eggplant dish is “super-easy and ridiculously yummy.” (photo by Shelley Civkin)

A recent Shabbat dinner with Rabbi Yechiel and Chanie Baitelman and a few other guests was like waking into the light after being in darkness for three years. The isolation brought on by COVID, compounded by health issues leaving us feeling vulnerable, resulted in Harvey and I spending every Shabbat and all Jewish holidays by ourselves for three long years. It was our first Shabbat “out in the open” and we couldn’t have asked for a warmer or more welcoming environment.

Observant, but not very much so, Harvey and I are used to lighting Shabbat candles, and he always reads Eishes Chayil (Woman of Valour) to me. But that’s pretty much all we do on Shabbat. So it was truly a delight to spend it with the rabbi and Chanie, their two youngest children, and a few others. The Shabbat rituals added much to the sanctity of the evening, and reminded me why we do what we do, and why Jews are G-d’s chosen people. The singing, the chatting – really, just the feeling of being “home” – all contributed to this intimate and freilach (joyous) evening. And then there was the food.

No Jewish celebration is complete without spectacular homemade food. And Chanie hit all the right notes on that count. We started out the meal with a bunch of small dishes, including the best eggplant dish I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. There was also baked fish, another eggplant dip, a gorgeous salad, freshly baked challah and an Israeli couscous salad. And that was just to start! Having been a guest at their home before, I knew that this was just the beginning, and that I should pace myself. Juicy, delicious Shabbos chicken followed, along with zucchini and onion quiche.

The star of the show for me, though, was Chanie’s Middle Eastern eggplant dish, which is the stuff that Jewish dreams are made of. People always say delicious food is “to die for!” but, really, the saying should be: “It’s to live for!” Naturally, I asked Chanie for the recipe and she admitted that she doesn’t really use one, which is why it tastes different every time she makes it. I tried to nail her down, as I wasn’t about to let this amazing dish get away. A couple of days later, and after a lot of question-asking and prodding, she relented and texted me the ingredients. No measurements. Just ingredients. Her directions to me were simple: “Just taste it as you go along.” Not unlike what our grandmothers did. But this is not something you say to someone like me, who’s a bit compulsive, and a stickler for a recipe. Needless to say, I was a bit flustered by the meagre directions.

Not to be daunted by a challenge though, I did what I rarely do – I winged it. With great trepidation, I might add. Chanie’s eggplant dish was so spectacular that I just knew I had to figure it out on my own, no matter how many tries it took. And, whaddaya know, I hit it out of the ballpark on the first go! And now, as humbly as possibly, I will share (to the best of my memory) the ingredients and measurements that I recall, and if it doesn’t work out … well … just try again. All measurements are approximate. As if that helps.

REBBETZIN CHANIE’S EGGPLANT
(makes enough for four as a side dish)

3 smallish eggplants, cubed and with skin on
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
2-3 cloves minced garlic
2 heaping tbsp tomato paste
2 heaping tbsp honey or date syrup (I used honey)
large handful of parsley, finely chopped
pepper to taste

Dice unpeeled eggplants into small cubes and sprinkle generously with olive oil. Don’t be afraid to use a lot of oil. Then sprinkle with salt. Bake at 375°F. until very soft, about 40 minutes. Turn it halfway through.

While the eggplant is baking, fry up minced garlic in a good amount of olive oil. Once it starts to brown, turn the heat down and add lemon juice, cumin, paprika, smoked paprika, tomato paste, honey or date syrup, and pepper. As you fry it up, taste it and adjust accordingly. There won’t be a lot of sauce but, trust me, the flavour is enough to permeate all of the eggplant.

Once the eggplant is nice and soft, mix it in with the garlic and tomato paste mixture, add the parsley, and you’re good to go. This dish is spectacular on its own, or with challah or focaccia to soak up the oil. It’s great served hot but it’s even better served cold the next day, once the flavours have had a chance to meld and marry. My husband declared it “company worthy” and hopes I’ll make it daily. Nice try, honey.

What I like about this dish is that it’s super-easy and ridiculously yummy – it’s sweet, smoky and slightly tart all at once. It’s also very oily, but that’s part of its Middle Eastern charm. You can adjust the amount you use, as eggplant tends to suck it up like a sponge. In our household though, you can never have enough olive oil.

I served this eggplant dish with steak, but it would go well with pasta, fish, rice, chicken or pretty much anything. Chanie told me that she makes up a big batch of the garlic tomato paste mixture and freezes it, so that when she’s in the mood for eggplant, all she has to do is cube the eggplant, bake it and add it to her defrosted pre-made “sauce” mixture. If I were a store or a restaurant, I’d put a money-back guarantee on this dish. Short of outrageously over-spicing it, you really can’t go wrong. I mean, it’s eggplant after all. The nightshade superstar. Enough said. Go dice your eggplant and call me when it’s done. I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll even bring the bread.

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Healthy food Harvey won’t eat

You can really put anything in a quinoa salad, depending on your taste. (photo from flickr / Marco Verch Professional Photographer)

Until recently, I had a very casual relationship with healthy foods. Neither me nor the veggies/tofu/fruit could commit. But now we’re besties. Not that I have eschewed chips, Cheezies and chocolate, by any means. I’m just branching out.

For decades, my meals could be described as culinary grenades just waiting to go off. If I tried to make something new, it was sure to result in one of two things: either Harvey or I would end up with food poisoning, or the meal would be so unspeakably disastrous that we’d have to go out for dinner or order in.

Then the pandemic happened. With restaurants closed and/or my anxiety in high gear about being around crowds who might spread COVID, we ate at home almost all the time. It came down to this: I could spend eternity eating the same three dishes, or I could start expanding my culinary repertoire (I use the word repertoire lightly). In hindsight, I could have boycotted the kitchen entirely. As it was, I was relying on Harvey to pick up the slack more than half the time, and I didn’t feel that was fair. What I’m trying to say is that I basically kitchen-shamed myself. Looking at friends’ food posts on Instagram and Facebook made me feel unspeakably inadequate. How had I gotten to my late 60s without being able to easily conjure up at least a dozen go-to dishes for dinner on any given night? That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.

Whereas I used to consider my dearth of cooking skills a life choice, now I realize how essential those skills are. Plus, I got tired of eating chicken, beef, fish. There are only so many ways to jazz up that same limited rotation. It was getting old, and so am I.

Enter quinoa, or what a nutritionist I knew once described as “the most complete non-animal protein on the planet.” It’s high in fibre, low in sodium, high in calcium, potassium, iron, magnesium and zinc. And it’s naturally gluten-free. Basically it’s a superfood. Just remember to rinse and drain quinoa well before cooking in order to remove any saponins, which have a bitter, soap-like taste.

It took awhile to be convinced of quinoa’s intrinsic goodness, especially given its unusual smell while cooking. But little by little I warmed up to it, and now it’s indisputably one of my favourite foods. Harvey, however, would rather have the combo platter of a colonoscopy and a dental implant than eat quinoa. We all make choices.

One of my favourite quinoa dishes is a simple salad that could also serve as a main dish, depending on how much stuff you add to it. To make enough for two solid meals, I’ll use about two cups of cooked quinoa (Google directions for cooking), diced cucumber, fresh blueberries and fresh mint, cut up. In the summer I add diced up mango. I’ve also been known to add canned chickpeas, diced tomatoes and pine nuts. I’ve seen recipes that include bell peppers, red onion, grated carrots, dried cranberries, and a variety of herbs. You can really put anything in there, depending on your taste. To boost the animal protein content, you could add tuna, salmon or chicken as well.

What elevates this salad to the next level is the dressing you put on it. In my pre-cooking days, I used to think that olive oil was enough to render any salad palatable. Expanding my dressing and sauces repertoire has resulted in much yummier salads. Here are four dressing options I use regularly.

HONEY MUSTARD DRESSING

1 tbsp grainy Dijon mustard
2 tsp honey
2 tbsp olive oil
juice of 1/2 a lemon
salt and pepper to taste

Combine mustard, honey and lemon juice and whisk them together. Then whisk in the olive oil. Voila!

SESAME GINGER DRESSING

1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 1/2 tbsp maple syrup
2 1/2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tsp white vinegar or rice wine vinegar
1 tsp sesame oil
1/2 tsp sesame seeds
juice of 2 limes

Whisk all ingredients together and enjoy this savoury dressing.

LEMON DRESSING

1/4 cup olive oil
grated zest from 1 medium lemon
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 medium clove garlic, minced
1 tsp grainy Dijon mustard
1 tsp honey
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp ground black pepper

Whisk ingredients together and enjoy!

CAPER VINAIGRETTE

1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp grainy Dijon mustard
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tbsp capers, drained and chopped (or more, to taste)
3 tbsp finely chopped flat leaf parsley
1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 tsp ground pepper
1/4 tsp salt

Combine all ingredients. This one is a very versatile dressing. I often use it on baked salmon and it’s delicious. It works well on chicken, too. I love capers, so I always add loads, but that’s a taste thing.

Check out Food and Wine magazine’s online suggestions for five ways to dress a quinoa salad at foodandwine.com/grains/quinoa/5-ways-dress-quinoa-salad. They venture into more unusual flavour profiles than I’d be willing to try, but for those of you who are more culinarily adventurous, go for it!

Quinoa is the true tabula rasa of foods, since it’s rarely eaten on its own, and it’s never usually the star of the show. It gets its street cred from its supporting cast of veggies, fruits, proteins and dressings. It can be cast for breakfasts, lunches, dinners or snacks, and it’s equally happy served hot or cold. Unlike some prima donna foods, it doesn’t complain about about uninvited guests. It plays well in the sandbox, and you rarely have to call its parents to come pick it up from school for bad behaviour. I have only good things to say about quinoa, even though it sometimes gets an undeservedly bad rap. And, bonus, it lasts well in the fridge for a good week, unadorned. Case closed. Eat your quinoa.