Tag: Jewish

Kreplach with Chutzpah

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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Hannah (BitterSweet)3 Comments

Emmer-gence

“Emmer” may not ring a bell, but I have a feeling you know more about it than you think. Just flip its name tag over to the better known moniker of farro, and it’s like we’re talking about a whole different grain. Yes, misunderstandings about the title abound, so it’s long overdue that we set the record straight. Emmer is an ancient grain that deserves a spot on every modern table.

In a Land Far, Farro Away

What’s truly wild is how few people understand what exactly farro is. Still on the fringes of mainstream grocery stores, granted, it’s not at the top of the average eater’s grocery list. Farro became trendy in the US sometime around the 90s and 00s, alongside the boom of Italian imports like balsamic vinegar and olive oil that didn’t taste like rancid gasoline. However, what makes things more confusing is that no one grain is defined as farro. Rather, there are three types of farro:

  • Farro grande; spelt
  • Farro piccolo; einkorn
  • Farro medio; emmer

Emmer is the grain most commonly referred to as farro, when no other qualifiers can be found. Farro wheat, which is also classified as durum wheat, is defined by the way it grows, with two rows of grain on opposite sides of a single stalk.

Conveniently, Grand Teton Ancient Grains sells all three types, so you can see (and taste) the difference for yourself!

Emmer Through the Ages

Botanical semantics out of the way, emmer is one of the preeminent whole grains. Known as “Mother Wheat,” it was one of the first grains to be domesticated in the Near East over 10,000 years ago. A staple crop in ancient Israel and Egypt, it spread to Italy following the Roman invasion around 50 BCE, where it took root in the culture and remains a top crop to this day. The rest of Europe developed a taste for this high-protein whole grain as well, especially when it comes to bread making in Germany and Switzerland. It’s also a crucial ingredient in Ethiopia, where it’s enjoyed primarily as a hot porridge.

Emmer Is Good Eats

Flavor always comes first in my kitchen, which is why emmer has become a fast favorite around here, too. Nutty and complex, there’s a subtle taste that reminds me of fresh almonds when cooked, adding a gently sweet finish that tastes both honeyed and malted. Chewy and robust, the whole wheat berry stands up well to long-simmered soups and stews, never falling apart under pressure. That also makes it an excellent addition to salads, both hot and cold, and keeps beautifully for meal prep and travel. When ground into flour, it makes silky smooth batters, though it can create denser breads due to a lesser gluten content, compared to modern wheat varieties.

Nutritional Benefits for People and the Planet

Prized for its ability to thrive in poor soils and harsh climates, emmer is beloved by farmers as a sustainable superstar. It generally needs fewer chemical inputs like fertilizers and pesticides, and is more drought-tolerant than modern wheat. As beneficial to the planet as the people that eat it, consumers can reap the rewards of many trace minerals in every serving, including iron, zinc, magnesium, and niacin. It’s high in protein and fiber, making it a satisfying foundation to any meal. Being that it is a form of wheat, however, it is not gluten-free, and not appropriate for those with celiac disease. Some who are merely intolerant report better digestibility, since it has less gluten than conventional wheat varieties.

Emmer Everyday, in All the Ways

Is there anything that emmer can’t do? Found across cultures and continents, whole and ground, there’s always a place for it at the table.

  • Soups and stews: Perhaps best known in Tuscan zuppa di farro, these sturdy whole grains are the ideal swap for pasta in any minestrone, Italian wedding soup, cacio e pepe, and so much more.
  • Risotto: As a modern twist to the traditional rice dish, farrotto is just plain fun to say. Some renditions favor cracked or pearled emmer for their faster cooking times, and/or soak them in advance to help expedite the process.
  • Salads and pilafs: Served hot, at room temperature, or fully chilled, emmer won’t let you down at dinnertime. Pair it with hearty roasted vegetables or delicate leafy greens and fresh herbs
  • Breads: In India, the flour is known as khapli wheat and is favored for making whole grain roti, dosa, and paratha. Aish baladi, a flatbread very similar to pita, is an core Egyptian delicacy, frequently stuffed or torn into piece for dipping. European loaves often combine it with a sourdough starter for greater loft and nuanced flavor.
  • Sweets: Treats like cookies, pie dough, muffins, cakes, pancakes, and more can all benefit from an emmer underpinning. Dense like most whole wheat flours, it adds heft and a hearty bite, balanced nicely by sugar, and especially the addition of spice.
  • Porridge and hot cereal: Cooked either whole or coarsely ground, emmer makes an excellent breakfast meal. Depending on your preferences, it can be served with savory additions like chickpeas and za’atar, or sweet finishes like fresh berries and maple syrup.
  • Beer and spirits: Though a bit tricky to find in the US, emmer beer has been a brewer’s best friend for millennia. Emmer beer was once one of the healthiest ways to hydrate, before the days of clean water and further filtration. Some distillers take it a step further to make emmer whiskey, though the rarity of those bottles drives a considerable price tag. 

Other notable traditional dishes that defy easy categorization include torta a farro, a savory cake reminiscent of a frittata, arancini di farro, favoring emmer in the typical deep-fried rice ball, and adjar pilaf, an Armenian side dish with mushrooms and onions.

Cooking Tips and Tricks

Whole emmer wheat berries are incredibly forgiving when it comes to cooking. Treat them like beans for the best results; use plenty of water, simmer low and slow, and drain off the excess. Of course, you can always speed things up with a little help from your trusty pressure cooker.

  • On the stove top, start by rinsing 1 cup of whole emmer wheat berries under cold water to remove any dust or debris. Then, place them in a pot with about 3 cups of water and a pinch of salt. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cover the pot and let it cook for 45 – 60 minutes, or until the grains are tender but still chewy. If you’re using pearled emmer, the cooking time may be closer to 25 – 30 minutes. Once cooked, drain any excess liquid and fluff the grains with a fork.
  • In a pressure cooker, combine 1 cup of rinsed emmer wheat berries with 2 1/2 cups of water and a pinch of salt. Seal the lid and cook on high pressure for 20 – 25 minutes (or 12 – 15 minutes for pearled). Allow the pressure to release naturally for 10 minutes, then release any remaining pressure manually. Drain any excess liquid if needed, and the grains are ready to use.

Enjoy your emmer right away while still hot, or let cool completely, then store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for 5 – 7 days. Consider keeping it in the freezer for long-term storage, up to 6 months, if you’d rather make bigger batches at a time.

Kasha is Out, Emmer is In

With Hanukkah looming right around the corner, Jewish comfort food has been top of mind. Kasha varnishkes aren’t making headlines like latkes and brisket, though they’re just as welcome at the holiday feast as they are on the average, everyday dinner table. “Kasha” means buckwheat and “varnishkes” refers to noodles, typically bow-tie shaped pasta, AKA farfalle in this case, fully explaining the simplicity and universal appeal of the dish. Bolstered by caramelized onions, the earthy whole grains add a comforting weight to al dente semolina pasta. It’s a beloved comfort food of Eastern European Jews through the generations. My unconventional suggestion is to drop the bitter buckwheat in favor of subtly sweet emmer berries.

Emmer Varnishkes are my contribution to the culinary canon. While buckwheat has its own old world charm, it tends to skew more bitter, grassy, and sometimes as earthy as a whole barnyard. The mild sweetness of emmer melds effortlessly with the richness of the dish, bringing out the complex chestnut and freshly popped popcorn notes. The key is to toast the emmer before simmering lightly salted stock, enhancing the naturally nutty flavor locked within. Then, perfectly befitting of the holiday, instead of schmaltz, olive oil honors the Hanukkah miracle, all while adding a peppery brightness.

Far-Out Emmer

If you’re a fan of farro, guess what? You’re already on board with emmer. Next time you see “farro” on a menu or in a recipe, you’ll know the story runs deeper than a trendy grain bowl. Emmer has nourished civilizations for thousands of years, and it’s still feeding our curiosity, and our appetites, today. Whether simmering in a soup pot, baked into bread, or starring in your next grain salad, there’s still so much more to discover with this ancient grain.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)13 Comments

Controversial Cabbage

Latkes are sacred. I don’t mean that in a biblical sense, but maybe that does apply in this case, too. Latkes are the real meaning of Hanukkah, the nexus of the holiday that connect the miracle of the oil with community, comfort, and abundance. Potatoes themselves take a place of honor at the table, forever reliable for their culinary prowess. That’s why I’ve been steeling myself for this blog post; I know I’m about to upset a lot of people. I made latkes with cabbage instead of potatoes.

Please, put your pitchforks away! Don’t rescind my invitation to the party yet! By no means am I suggesting that cabbage latkes are better than the beloved potato latkes. As a food writer, I know my job is to sell you on my latest creation, convincing you that it’s unbeatable, it’s life-changing, it’s the thing you never knew you needed.

Maybe the last is true, because I’ve never heard anyone take a plate of golden, immaculately crisp potato latkes and say, “You know what these need? 100% more cabbage.”

Honestly, I don’t know where the idea came from, other than the fact that I like cabbage and happened to have it around. I started making cabbage latkes well into late summer, biding my time and practicing my pitch for this day. I’ve come to find that they somewhat resemble Latvian kāpostu kotletes, which Google invariably translates as “cabbage cutlets.” If there could possibly be a more disappointing way to set expectations for this dish, it would be to call them cabbage cutlets. So, cabbage latkes it is.

Golden-crisp on the edges, tender in the center, this more vegetal reimagining of the classic potato pancake looks suspiciously similar to the original inspiration. Shredded green cabbage, kissed with just enough salt to coax out its sweet, earthy essence, forms the backbone of this comforting fritter. Not heavy or greasy, a lacy latticework of browned fringes gives way to a savory, onion-scented interior.

Hopefully this doesn’t turn into a scandal akin to the great Pea Guacamole Controversy that rocked the culinary world a few years back. If it would make you more comfortable, go ahead and call them cabbage fritters. No one is coming to take away your potatoes. I’m only suggesting you might enjoy making space for cabbage, too.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)11 Comments

Catcher In The Rye

I’ve always envied those with a strong culinary heritage. My own origins are as murky as they are unexciting, with food appearing as a bit player, never the star. When asked, my general response is that I’m a European mutt, maybe Russian at most, or Ukranian, or German, or Austrian, or…

Clues are scant and hard to verify. There are stories, like family lore, that could be as close to fact as fairy tales. Anyone with the truth is long gone. The best evidence I have are photos, especially of my dad’s side, seen through a Kodaslide, illuminating the past in every sense of the word. Seen in 3D, there’s my teenaged grandparents at the pool, my dad and aunt as toddlers dressed in some unfortunate plaid jumpsuits, my other aunt as a child running away from what seems like a dead body lying in the grass; some of these moments in time raise more questions than answers.

My Great Grandmother May, Circa 1955

Naturally, I’m most drawn to images depicting holidays and dinner parties, the grand celebrations and feasts of yore. There, I can’t help but notice the towers of bread, stacked instead of splayed, like two pillars a the center of the table. Though it’s hard to identify much else, I know this for sure: it’s rye bread on display.

It turns out, I’m like rye bread. Any number of countries could claim it as their own, offering compelling facts to make the case. In Scandinavia, you’ll find sweet and crisp rye breads like the Finnish rye and the crispbreads of Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. Eastern Europe, particularly Russia and the Baltics, is known for its dark, dense, and intensely flavored rye breads. Germany has a wide range of rye breads, from the robust and complex to the rich and varied, with Vollkornbrot being especially popular. Other notable rye breads include the tender and piquant rye of Southern Poland, the aromatic and flavorful rye of Bavaria, Switzerland, Austria, and Italy, and the rustic French-style Tourte de Seigle. In essence, rye bread is also a European mutt.

Jewish rye bread, lightly sour, sweet, and flecked with caraway seeds, is the food of my people. Marbled loaves especially have held a certain undeniable allure, rippled with undulating waves of dark, cocoa-tinted dough. I’ve long promised myself I’d make a loaf of my own, and so, for this World Bread Day, I finally have.

Banner World Bread Day, October 16, 2025

Of course, as you probably already guessed, I couldn’t simply pander to tradition to recreate what’s already been done millions of times before. Mine is a triple take on the concept, weaving in an even darker braid dyed with edible charcoal for maximum impact. Looking like a streaky challah, the tender yet dense texture evokes the best parts of a brioche and a pullman loaf combined. There’s a uniquely savory edge thanks to the distinctive seasonings and earthy whole grain flours, making its thick slices the ideal end caps to any deli sandwich.

Happea Vegans Not Yo Mami Pastrami on Rye

Other recipes will advise that caraway seeds are polarizing and thus optional. This is true, and I’d never look down on someone who wasn’t a fan. That said, I will advise that this is my recipe, and for me, they are not. Want a simple rye bread without seasonings or inclusions? Want to skip the different colors, the braiding and waiting, the long prep time to make that distinctive final swirl? That’s perfectly fine. That’s not this recipe.

Like the story behind rye bread itself, layered, winding, and shaped by time, my journey has led to something uniquely mine. I can’t recreate the original exactly, but I can honor its spirit. This rye bread is my version, rooted in tradition, but entirely my own.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)14 Comments

Recipes to Ring in Rosh Hashanah

Consider Rosh Hashanah as your instant reset button. Starting over for the New Year, reinvigorated with fresh ambition to do better than the previous 365 days, needn’t be reserved just for January 1st. Meaning “Head of the Year,” the Jewish New Year ushers in more than just a date on the calendar. Consider it an open invitation to pause, reflect, and reset. While many gather in synagogues for prayer and connection, the rituals of Rosh Hashanah are most expressive around the table.

Falling on the first day of Tishrei in the Hebrew calendar, 5786 begins at sundown, ushered in by a fleet of autumnal produce and golden nectar, in hopes of having some of that gentle sweetness stay with us through the next annual cycle. Round challahs grace the table, their shape symbolizing abundance without end, while slices of crisp apple dipped in maple syrup or vegan honey speak our collective hope aloud, their down-to-earth decadence representing an attainable luxury.

Pomegranates, dates, carrots, and beets are just a few more favorites, woven into the tapestry of perennial celebratory dishes. Whether continuing beloved family customs or creating new ones, the dishes served on Rosh Hashanah are as much about intention as they are about flavor.

What follows is a collection of my favorite Rosh Hashanah recipes that honor the season, the symbolism, and the sweet start we all hope for in the year ahead.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)8 Comments

Healing With Charoset

Can we repair the world with charoset? Considering the lack of success we’ve seen with actual peace treaties and cease fire deals, I have to answer that question with a resounding, “no, obviously not.” However, the point of charoset, and Passover itself, draws more strength from symbolism and intention that concrete action. Every component of the Seder plate has a specific purpose, which is the start of any meaningful change, so maybe we’re closer to healing than we think.

What is Charoset?

Let’s back up a step. Charoset is classically made from chopped apples, walnuts, wine, and cinnamon. There are naturally many variations found throughout different cultures, with some adding dates, figs, or pomegranate seeds, just for starters. Sephardic Jews like theirs more like a paste or spread, while Ashkenazi Jews keep theirs coarse like a nutty fruit salsa. Regardless of the specifics, they’re all made to symbolize the mortar used by the Israelites during their enslavement in Egypt. It’s a reminder of the their hardships but also a means to balance the bitterness of maror (horseradish) as an act of resilience and the pursuit of justice against seemingly insurmountable suffering.

Tikkun Olam

In the midst of these trying times, I felt moved to make an even more meaningful, modern take on this essential staple. I’m calling this modern twist “Tikkun Charoset,” drawing from the Jewish concept of tikkun olam, a Hebrew phrase that means “repair the world.” Though it sounds radical, the concept has been a pillar of the community since at least the 1st millennium CE.

What Does This Have To Do With Charoset?

I’m glad you asked, dear reader! With each passing year, more optional symbols have been suggested to join the essentials on the seder plate, representing various social justice movements. I’d like to propose making them mandatory, front and center, by incorporating them right into the charoset.

The only additional unofficial amendments to the original set of symbols that I couldn’t find a way to incorporate were Miriam’s cup and acorns. Each piece of the puzzle has an inspiring origin story which I highly recommend you take a moment to read.

Healing With Charoset

Beyond what it represents, this unconventional foil to sweeten the bitterness of our affliction is simply a satisfying change of pace. Apples remain a constant at the foundation, forever reliable and accessible. Buttery sweet potatoes contrast with the crunch of toasted cashews, spiked with the bright citrus hit of orange juice and a hint of heady banana liqueur. Rich, earthy cacao nibs round out the experience with both substance and style. Though I have no illusions that it could actually fix all the world’s problems, I hope it might spread more awareness and that, at least, is a start.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)7 Comments