Despite a queue snaking out of the doors of Silverman’s the kosher butchers on December 24 last year, it seems fewer and fewer of us are buying kosher turkeys than ever before.
Owner, Stephen Grossman, confirmed that sales of the birds have halved since the 1980s. “Demand is rapidly diminishing. Over 30 years, the consumption of turkeys by Jewish households is less than half — maybe even a third — of what it once was.”
Nonetheless, he does sell approximately 2000 kosher free-range turkeys in his London branches, and 100 geese in the run up to Christmas Day. He also sells 200 kosher ‘seasonal puddings’ — supplied by kosher caterer, Ben Tenenblat. The parev puddings — containing mixed fruit spices, port, brandy and a caramelised clementine in the centre — are made a year in advance and always sell out. “It’s my non-Jewish chef’s recipe” says Tenenblat, who won’t be sitting down a feast himself on the day: “I take my children to volunteer with me for homeless charity Crisis at Christmas. They help sorting out presents and I help with the catering.”
Grossman also does not sit down to a turkey meal: “My daughter, Natasha, was born on December 25, so we’ll be celebrating her birthday.”
My own family have always sat down to a turkey meal — it’s an extra day to feast as a family. What Grossman’s statistics indicate, however, is that the number of Jewish people eating a traditional English Christmas menu on December 25 may be dwindling. Or perhaps those eating turkey are no longer buying a kosher bird?
“In the majority, if you have a religious lifestyle, you will not be celebrating a non-Jewish festival” says Grossman, who believes that in the past, as new immigrants, we may have participated in our home country’s celebrations as a way of assimilating.
In the United States, the situation was different. There, Jews have traditionally gone out to eat Chinese food on the national holiday. The custom was said to have originated with the Jewish immigrants in New York’s Lower East Side in the early 20th century. Jews and Chinese were the largest immigrant groups. They shared with each other a feeling of being different from the local population. When everyone else was at home (or church) celebrating Christmas, the only restaurants that were open were Chinese. American food writer, Joan Nathan, has written that Chinese cuisine made sense if you were avoiding mixing milk and meat as they don’t tend to mix meat and dairy.
Many New Yorkers grew up with this tradition: “We used to work in my grandfather’s pharmacy — the only one open for miles on Long Island” recalls former New Yorker, Rebecca Strom Trenner. “We sold a lot of batteries and perfume sets. Then we’d go to China Town for dinner. Cinemas were always open on Christmas in New York so we often saw a movie. The Staten Island Ferry was free on Christmas too. The biggest shock for this NY Jew was how boring London is on Christmas.”
Judi Rose, daughter of former JC food editor and doyenne of Jewish food, Evelyn Rose, grew up in Manchester, but moved to New York when she married: “When I first moved out there, I used to cook an English-style turkey meal, but ended up eating Chinese food. One one year, I even cooked up my own Chinese banquet. Even though they’re quite assimilated, Americans I met are quite skittish about Christmas.”
Rose points out that there is another fundamental difference between how we and our Stateside brethren behave on 25 December, and that goes back to their holiday schedule.
“Americans eat turkey for Thanksgiving, which is at the end of November. They’re all turkey-ed out so they tend not to eat a turkey meal for Christmas. There’s no particular special meal they sit down to.”
Here in the UK with our firm food traditions — turkey, Christmas pudding and mince pies — the English menu was adopted by some. “We grew up eating turkey on Christmas Day with a big dinner and the Queen’s speech. It was a Yom Tov,” recalls Rose. “We’d invite my uncle and aunt and close friends — no one was at work. It had nothing to do with Christmas — it was an Anglo-Jewish thing.”
“Mum would make three courses but put her own Yiddishkeit twist on it. The turkey would have a delicious helzel stuffing (matzah meal and shmaltz) and we’d finish our meal with a parev ‘Chanukah pudding’, which was served with a light sabayon sauce made with kiddush wine. There’s a recipe for the pudding in one of her books.”
Rose’s experience reflects Grossman’s view. Once upon a time, it was a way of second generation families to assimilate — doing the same as their non-Jewish friends and neighbours. Many still do take the opportunity of a public holiday to cook up a feast for friends and families:
“It’s like a Yom Tov without the restrictions. No work, no shops, great tv. Families gather and eat. So we borrow a bit from Xmas, enjoy turkey and watch the Queen at 3pm. But there’s a nagging feeling that we’re gate crashing a party to which we’re not invited!” says Jewish educator, Laurie Rosenberg.
For many, it’s unthinkable to copy, a non-Jewish tradition. Lots of us prefer to lounge in pyjamas, watching television, eating salt beef and bagels. No matter what you do on December 25, there’s likely to be food involved, so let’s rename it Fress-mas Day!
