{"id":44976,"date":"2018-09-17T22:43:45","date_gmt":"2018-09-18T04:43:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/?p=44976"},"modified":"2018-09-17T22:43:45","modified_gmt":"2018-09-18T04:43:45","slug":"culinary-jews-people-of-the-kitchen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/blog\/culinary-jews-people-of-the-kitchen\/","title":{"rendered":"Culinary Jews – People of the Kitchen"},"content":{"rendered":"

By TED ROBERTS, the SCRIBBLER ON THE ROOF<\/em><\/p>\n

We Jews are often called the \u201cPeople of the Book\u201d. But our detractors call us the People of the Kitchen. I consider that a compliment. Even our courting habits are affected. \u201cHey, can you cook?\u201d asks the potential groom. This was not a frivolous question. \u201cYou oughta taste my matzoh balls,\u201d replies the hopeful bride.<\/p>\n

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We do practice a menu different from our Christian friends. It must go back 3000 years when we were ordered by the strong hand and outstretched arm of our Deliverer to segregate ourselves from those pagan Canaanites who worshipped wrong and cooked wrong, too. If our rules banned pork and cheeseburgers, you couldn\u2019t frolic with them at the riverside picnic. It was a great obstacle \u2013 very effective.<\/p>\n

Of course, three millennia later that didn\u2019t help my social status in the 6th grade when my Christian playmates talked about food and that other topic that 6th graders obsess on. (I always tried to steer the topic to that \u201cother\u201d topic.) Snowden Junior High wasn\u2019t exactly Canaan.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, Teddy, what did y\u2019all have for supper last night?\u201d How was I going to explain Gefilte fish or Lutchon kugel or rolled cabbage to a gang of juvenile friends who worshiped bologna sandwiches, fried catfish, and baked pork chops. They didn\u2019t even understand the charms of chopped liver.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, first you take a carp \u2013 pulverize him, add matzoh meal. Bake it for twenty minutes at 350 degrees.\u201d<\/p>\n

They\u2019d never understand.<\/p>\n

My social status suffered. I was looking for integration, not the segregation of 3000 BCE.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I was tempted to untangle the twisted gastronomical knot and simply say, \u201cOh, we had delicious bologna sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, and mayo.\u201d Just like y\u2019all, I\u2019m thinking. The basic difference between me and my social ambitions \u2013 you know how kids crave popularity \u2013 was the difference between frying pans and baking dishes. At my house the frying pan was used occasionally to scramble eggs \u2013 not a serious instrument. It was considered a second-class tool for juvenile cooks. Ah, but that baking dish \u2013 a necessity.<\/p>\n

So, I struggled against a wave of Philistinism such as deep-fried chicken, which my classmates boasted of. You\u2019d think it was the basis of their mother\u2019s love. Chicken…fried? Not baked or broiled? Dusted with flour? Certainly a Canaanite dish akin to bacon. Disgusting. And that was the main challenge to my social acceptance in the sixth grade.<\/p>\n

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