Hanukkah

These cookies I hold near and dear to my being.  When I was with my grandma, I could simply be me.  I could be my sweet self, I could be my bratty self, I could be my intuitive self, and I could be my quiet self. We had a special relationship.  I was the youngest of 7 grandchildren and my childhood was riddled with illness.  

I was ALWAYS sick. I was hospitalized with collapsed lungs at the age of 12 and after 20 days, I was released. It was the beginning of summer and that summer, I mostly spent in the house, in bed. I went into the hospital weighing 77 pounds and came out 25 pounds lighter.

My grandma came over every day and made sure I ate.  She made me all of my favorite foods; her pasta, chicken and dumplings, matzoh brie (a matzoh version of french toast), egg noodles with cottage cheese + salt (I know, it sounds gross-but it is really good), and so much more. These cookies were in our cookie jar everyday and these cookies make me happy.

As I light the menorah tonight, I will light the candles in honor of my grandma, whom I think about all the time.  She gave me a gift, the gift of unconditional love.

I took a walk with my grandson Isaac a few weeks ago. We went to see the ducks. He knows what ducks say as well as cows, goats, horses (with prompting), and chickens. He is two years old. His name, biblical and strong, may herald the beginning of a new era in baby naming. I have a second grandson, born in September. His name is, Leo Henry, very distinguished. Leo has a tough act to follow in Isaac, but I am sure he will hold his own.

It is pay back time, in a way, since my son, the younger of my two children, is the father of the animal whisperer, while his older sister the original tough act to follow is Leo’s mother.

Now, in my early sixties, I am happy I can keep up with Isaac and expect to hold my own with Leo, as well. Grandchildren arrive on the scene these days much later than in the past. We are a healthier “older generation.” We trek. We do Pilates, but do the children really have to wait so long to figure out who they want to be, to settle down, and to multiply?

For many years, from well before the empty nest until the birth of grandchildren, we have no one to take trick or treating and, at this time of year, for those of the Jewish persuasion, no one with whom to light candles and fry latkes.

I'm wishing a Happy Hanukkah to all of our Jewish friends. Since Hanukkah celebrates the miracle of the oil that burned for eight days the Jewish people celebrate with foods that include oil.

Fried foods like potato pancakes (“latkas” in Yiddish) and doughnuts (“sufganiyot” in Hebrew) are traditional Hanukkah treats because they are cooked in oil and remind the Jewish people of the miracle of the holiday. So why not an olive oil cake!! Instead of butter, oil is used to create this beautiful dessert. And best of all, no mixer is required. We also have some other great Hanukkah recipes for you to enjoy.

And the tangerine glaze…wow. I have a whole bowl of Satsumas on the counter, and they are as juicy as can be. Perfect to squeeze and bake into this cake and glaze.

My friend KBell makes socks for a living. But it’s what comes out of her kitchen that’ll really knock your socks off – the world’s most perfect brisket.

That’s a boast, I know, that is bound to generate some heat. But what you have to know about Kbell’s brisket is two things: She’s ridiculously generous about sharing her recipe, which actually hails from her mother Selma Bell of Gloucester, Mass. And, for all I know, from Selma Bell’s mother, too. The Bells from Gloucester are like that, a tight-knit (so to speak) family. But the second and probably more important aspect of KBell’s brisket is that it’s pretty much fool-proof.

The key is in the timing. If you’re serving the dish for Friday night, say, you need to make it on Thursday. That way, you refrigerate the meat overnight and can easily hack off the extra globs of fat in the morning and then thinly slice the beef against the grain and, voila – the perfect brisket is simply heated up 45 minutes before you serve it, au jus.