Asparagus, often referred to by epicureans as “grass”, is the perfect food. It has few calories, sublime flavour, proven health benefits (including anti-cancer properties) and, according to some enthusiasts, it can even perk up your love life.
Eating it is supposed to have the most startling effect. The 17th century herbalist Nicolas Culpepper said that this innocent vegetable “stirred up lust in men and women”.
When Kadima party leader Tzipi Livni missed out on becoming Israel’s prime minister a few weeks ago, there was another lesser-known honour that slipped through her fingers — the chance to have her likeness shaped out of marzipan.
Israel has its own take on Madame Tussauds but, in line with the fressing culture of the Jewish state, the models are edible. Prime ministers — as well as many other well-known figures — are recreated in consumable form.
Onions are so much part of our modern culinary repertoire that it is hard to believe they are one of the oldest vegetables in existence. And as we chop yet another onion and face the tears, it is interesting to consider the theory that the Israelite slaves — who built the pyramids — were fed onions in order to give them strength. More likely, the Egyptians had discovered how to cultivate these vegetables and could therefore use them as a cheap food source.
When the wonderful smell of macaroons wafts through my home, the almond fragrance almost symbolises Pesach baking. Throughout the centuries, Jews have sung the almond’s virtues and written poetry dedicated to its unique flavour. But its special position in Jewish culture extends far back to the times of the Bible.
In Hebrew its name is shaked, which can mean also mean watchful, industrious or vigilant. This polyvalence is resonant because in Israel, the almond tree is one of the first to flower and it symbolises God’s swift vengeance should the Children of Israel not behave.
The egg is such an integral part of Pesach cookery that the process of preparing Pesach can be measured by the number of eggs used. A huge number are whisked to lighten kugels, kneidlach, chremslach, soufflés, cakes and biscuits. And the symbolism that is woven around the Pesach egg is fascinating and complicated.
What are your memories of school food? Mushy peas, mashed potato with cold cuts and the ever-present portion of chips? Post Jamie Oliver’s school-dinner revolution, I went to visit eight Jewish primary schools to review what was on the menu and how well the message about eating healthy was being understood and acted upon.
Quality was uneven with some schools failing to provide what I would regard as either the right attitude or the right food for their pupils.
Kreplach are one of those things that a lot of people think about making before abandoning the idea because it just seems like too much work. But these soft, moist parcels simmered in a rich soup or liquor are delectable when they are home-made and so different from the shop or restaurant version that it is a shame not to try them. And while you taste, you can be captivated — as I was — with the mystical reasons for eating and making kreplach.
The French have a passion for cassoulet, Lancastrians revel in hot pot and the Irish enthuse about their stew, but none of these holds a light to a hearty, steaming bowl of cholent. That, at least, is my opinion, although I accept that it can be an acquired taste.
Picky sophisticates are unlikely to appreciate its heady aroma or its thick consistency. Indeed, to get the best out of it, an appreciation of basic folk-lore food and a big appetite is required.
He never studied wine-making, he broke all the rules about where to plant his grapes and he never had any ambition to make more than a few hundred bottles for friends and family. Yet against all the odds, Eli ben Zaken has become Israel’s most acclaimed wine-maker, with fans ranging from heads of state to our own television taster, Oz Clarke.
Tu B’Shvat, the New Year for Trees and one of the most beautiful events in the Jewish calendar, is considered a minor festival and often neglected. But it can be special, particularly for food-lovers. Tu B’Shvat, the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Shvat, was established by Talmudic rabbinate to determine the age of trees and calculate when they could be harvested.