Pronounced with enough force, kreplach sounds like a Yiddish curse at best, and an old man hacking up a lung at worst. Say it with your chest and really draw out the “ach” to hear what I mean, and possibly scare your neighbors while you’re at it. Resolutely the stuff of Old World sustenance, they’ve slowly faded into obscurity, overtaken by myriad adjacent dishes.
Some take offense to the comparisons, indignant that such a righteous and deeply meaningful food could be lumped into the same category as most generic frozen meals, but let’s be real: they are like Jewish wontons, pierogi, ravioli, manti, pelmeni, or just about any other dumpling that springs to mind first. Take a thin sheet of flour dough, wrap it around a basic filling of chicken, potatoes, mushrooms, or beef, simmer it in soup or pan-fry, and you have your holy kreplach.
Stuffed With Meaning
Symbolism is almost as important as flavor when you talk about the history of kreplach. Reserved for special occasions, they’re most likely to reemerge for Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Purim. In accordance with the former two holidays, the filling is sealed, just as our fates are said to be sealed in the book of life, or possibly shielded from judgment. Purim, viewed by some as a Jewish version of Halloween, is where things get more interesting.
Triangulated Trials
Just as Esther concealed her identity, and children today don costumes and disguises, the filling is hidden between the thin layers of dough. On this day, kreplach are folded into triangles, mirroring the shape of hamantaschen which also mimic the three cornered hat worn by Haman. They’re little pockets of joy made from the most humble stuff, finding beauty in the commonplace, the mundane, the everyday. It’s the time and labor that make them truly special.
Labor of Love
To that end, yes, you could make shortcut kreplach by using wonton skins instead of homemade dough, but that rather defeats the purpose to me. You might as well buy any old ready-made dumplings at that point. The dough, rolled out thinly, has a more distinctive bite, more resistance and weight, which can’t be replicated by anything other than the genuine article. Traditional renditions are egg-heavy, though that’s nothing a little aquafaba can’t fix. Feel free to prep this well in advance, since it can keep for up to a week in the fridge. It’s easy, not quick.
Souped or Sautéed
When I think of kreplach, I think of gleaming little triangles swimming languidly through light, golden broth, intermingled with a few coins of tender carrots. They can also be served dry, pan-fried, often laced with caramelized onions. If you were to take the potato stuffing route, you know how well that works for pierogi; I’d be sorely tempted to serve them with a side of vegan sour cream to complete the picture.
Today’s Kreplach Legacy
Don’t let kreplach die out. Yes, there are plenty of close cousins hailing from Europe and Asia alike. Perhaps no one would even realize if they make an Irish exit. My favorite foods, however, come with stories. Tradition, intention, and symbolism have branded kreplach as their own unique, wholly irreplaceable entry to the culinary canon of all dough-swaddled savory morsels. There’s never been a better time to try a taste of history than the present day.
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