Gefilte fish: Many schools of thought

An old saying goes: Ask two Jews a question and you'll get three opinions. Controversy, controversy. In politics you expect it, but it's true even in cooking.

Take the much-maligned yet oh-so-beloved Jewish appetizer that graces every holiday table, from the weekly celebration of the Sabbath to Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year: gefilte fish.

In the Middle Ages, Jewish mystics viewed fish as signaling the coming of the messiah. No wonder it is served for every holiday. Fish was expensive in Europe, and the recipe was developed as an economical way to stretch it so that every family member could get a taste.

The word "gefilte" is actually German for "stuffed." The original recipe called for seasoned ground, boned fish mixed with eggs and fillers, such as vegetables and crumbs, which was then stuffed back into the fish skin and cooked. Over the centuries, the skin was eliminated, with cooks shaping the mixture into balls or patties and poaching them.

But wherein lies the controversy? Do we open a jar or make it ourselves ... or "doctor" the jarred variety? Do we like it sweet or peppery? With some guests adoring it and others repelled at the very sight, do we even serve it at all?

As Rosh Hashana approaches (the holiday begins today at sundown), Jewish cooks the world over plan a festive repast. Traditionalists wouldn't dream of celebrating the holiday without treasured family recipes handed down through the generations. For eager innovators, the holiday cries out for something new, some enticing way to honor the ancient symbols.

My inclinations lie somewhere in between. Some dishes are sacred and immutable. The holiday would never be the same without my mother's chicken soup and matzo balls; my grandma, Mama Hinda's, raisin-studded round challah; or Aunt Sally's tsimmes (carrot stew). But the rest of the meal is up for grabs, and for the holiday, I long to stray from my Eastern European roots.

I'm skipping the gefilte fish drama and going with Moroccan-Style Hot Fish, a recipe I found in a beautiful cookbook by Janna Gur, the founder and editor of Al Hashulchan (On the Table), a leading Israeli food and wine magazine.

"The Book of New Israeli Food: A Culinary Journey" (Schocken Books, $35) is at once a cookbook, a beautifully photographed coffee table book and a fascinating lesson on the diverse cuisine of Israel.

Grouper is the traditional choice for Hot Fish, a casserole-style dish bursting with hot peppers and garlic, but any saltwater fish will do, Gur suggests. The recipe, like many others in the book, comes from a local chef.

"Israel has some world-class restaurants," she told me recently when her book tour brought her to Los Angeles. "It's very interesting — it emerged when the chefs stopped looking for inspiration in France and Italy, but looked instead to their immediate surroundings: our vegetables, our wild herbs. Of the 10 best restaurants in Israel, only one is French. The others serve a creative mixture of Jewish-Israeli foods. Every time I come back from my travels, I have even a higher opinion in terms of what we have to offer."

But what is Jewish-Israeli food? And is there such a thing as a true Israeli cuisine?

"Well, there's definitely such a thing as Israeli food," she said. "And it's not just a mixture of a little Middle Eastern and maybe some American or Italian. There is a unique style that started to evolve during recent decades, but it's too early to call it a full-fledged cuisine.

"Some people say there are only three great cuisines: French, Italian and Chinese, and everything else is an imitation. We are ages away from becoming a cuisine, but our dishes are composed of fresh, bold flavors and flavor combinations that speak Hebrew: lots of vegetables, lots of spices that are not necessarily hot, olive oil, burned eggplant, grilled meat — chicken and lamb rather than beef — whole grilled fish."

As waves of immigrants have settled in at different periods in Israel's history, the individual ethnic cuisines have formed a unique blend.

"In the beginning, individual groups kept to themselves," she noted. "There were vegetables that only Bulgarian Jews or Moroccan Jews would buy, and Ashkenazi Jews would never touch them. Today there are so many cross-marriages that the combination of ethnic origins happens on the table as well. The food is not homogenous as much as it is a mixture that is the norm."

As an example, Gur cited a holiday story her magazine ran about a family from Jerusalem. "The mother is Persian, a younger sister married a Moroccan, and she brought spiced fish. She also made gefilte fish that she learned from a neighbor, but changed the recipe because she didn't like sugar. Her daughter-in-law is Argentinean and made chicken soup, but it was a little different from the classic. One of the sons was dating a young girl from Libya ... so what is typical is a mixture, even inside one plate. Chicken soup is not the classic version but is influenced by North African couscous soup or Romanian chicken soup."

Similarly, different cultures incorporate honey — the Rosh Hashana symbol of the hope for a sweet year ahead — into the menu in different ways.

This year, the honey will be in the chicken, and I'm serving Gur's Apple, Cinnamon and Walnut Cake — which just screams fall — for dessert, a perfectly appropriate choice for Rosh Hashana, which began as an agricultural festival.

Despite the ever-present political conflict in her adopted country, Gur, who immigrated to Israel in 1974 from the former Soviet Union, sees food as a possible bridge between disputing factions.

"The source of so many Israeli menu items is actually Arabic," she said. That is why she made the controversial decision to include Ramadan in her holiday section. "Some people weren't happy about it. Ramadan is not just religious; it's a whole way of eating. It's a celebration around the clock."

Our prayer for the new year is a poignant hope for peace.

"Food is something that actually connects us. Sometimes, even during harsh times, it may be a beautiful springtime day, and we share the same sunlight. Eventually, we'll have to find a way to live and share this country."

MOROCCAN-STYLE HOT FISH

Yield: eight servings

4 hot red peppers, cut into strips

2 sweet red peppers, cut into strips

1 cup fresh parsley, coarsely chopped

1 cup fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped

1 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons good quality paprika

Salt 8 pieces (about 6 ounces each) grouper or other saltwater fish, cut into large chunks

20 cloves garlic, peeled

Procedure

Line a wide saucepan with peppers, parsley and cilantro.

Combine oil, paprika and salt. Dip fish chunks in the oil mixture and arrange in saucepan. Mix remaining oil mixture with garlic and 3 to 4 cups water and pour over fish.

Cook 10 to 15 minutes (depending on size of fish chunks) over high heat. Lower heat, cover and continue cooking for another 15 minutes until sauce thickens.

CHICKEN CASSEROLE WITH DRIED FRUIT ON A BED OF COUSCOUS

Yield: four to six servings

12 chicken drumsticks

6 whole small red onions, peeled

12 pieces (each 2 inches long) Jerusalem artichoke, peeled

9 ounces dried figs

7 ounces pitted prunes

7 ounces dried apricots

For the marinade:

1/2 cup vegetable oil

2 tablespoons sesame oil

2 tablespoons brown sugar

3 tablespoons honey

1/2 cup soy sauce

5 cloves garlic, chopped

3 sticks cinnamon

1 tablespoon coriander seeds

1 level teaspoon turmeric

1 tablespoon cumin seeds, crushed

2 tablespoons sesame seeds

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar

2 cups dry red wine

To serve:

1 package (about 18 ounces) instant couscous

1/2 cup walnuts, toasted

Procedure

Mix all ingredients for marinade.

Arrange chicken, onions, Jerusalem artichoke and dried fruit in a baking dish and pour over the marinade. Cover and refrigerate for three to 24 hours.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Bake, uncovered, for 40 minutes or until chicken turns shiny and brown. Baste chicken occasionally with liquid from bottom of pan. The dish up to this point may be prepared in advance and later heated in the oven. Before serving, prepare instant couscous per the manufacturer's instructions.

Arrange chicken casserole and sauce over a mound of couscous, sprinkle walnuts on top and serve immediately.

APPLE, CINNAMON AND WALNUT CAKE

Yield: eight servings

5 large apples, peeled and cored

Juice of half a lemon

2 cups flour

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon baking soda

Pinch of salt

3 large eggs

1 cup sugar

3/4 cup vegetable oil

5 tablespoons brandy or calvados

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3/4 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped

For dusting:

2 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

Procedure

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cut three apples into 1/2-inch dice. Slice remaining two apples into eight wedges each, sprinkle with lemon juice and set aside.

Sift flour with cinnamon, baking soda and salt. Using an electric mixer, beat eggs, sugar, brandy and vanilla extract until pale and thick, about eight minutes.

Lower speed and gradually add oil and then flour mixture.

Fold in diced apples and chopped walnuts and pour batter into a well-greased 10-inch springform pan. Arrange apple wedges in center of cake in a flower pattern. Combine sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle on top.

Bake 60 to 70 minutes until cake is golden and a toothpick comes out dry with a few crumbs adhering. Cool 10 minutes, release from pan and cool completely on a rack.

Judy Bart Kancigor is the author of "Cooking Jewish: 532 Great Recipes From the Rabinowitz Family" (Workman Publishing). Her website is www.cookingjewish.com.