Chocolate and Talmud

Life Is Like a Library has had a run of "less than ultimate" books. "Using our gift to only uplift," we try to stay positive in this space, so with the deadline looming, we were worried if we would have something to share for this month's Jewish Book Carnival. When all else fails, CHOCOLATE! Actually Green Beans, as we feature two recent books by this British publisher.

Babka, Boulou & Blintzes: Jewish Chocolate Recipes from Around the World (Green Bean Books, 2021) will be out later this month. Michael Leventhal compiled this collection of all things chocolate. The introduction discusses the history of chocolate and the Jewish connection. In the 1500s, Jewish traders in Spain "starting playing a key role in the creation and expansion of the chocolate market." These traders fled to France from the Spanish Inquisition, and Bayonne became the "chocolate capital of France." The recipes are organized by Cookies, Bars & Brownies; Cakes, Loaves & Tarts; Savory Dishes & Drinks, Hot & Cold Desserts; and Bonbons, Bites & After-Dinner Delights. Leventhal helpfully includes a glossary of UK-US terms and a note on measurements, so us non-Brits finally know that what the Brits call caster sugar is regular white sugar. Many talented people contributed recipes to the book, including Amy Krtizer Becker from What Jew Wanna Eat, foodie Joan Nathan, and Orly Ziv. Even better, all sales of the book help raise money for Chai Cancer Care.

Most of us have our go-to recipes for things like brownies and chocolate chip cookies, so this responsible reviewer decided to try something new: boulou. Boulou is a sweet bread or cake that Jews of North African (Libya, Tunisia) origin traditionally eat during the month of Tishrei. One taste tester thought they were mandelbrot, but they are sort of, kind or, but, not really. The dough is laid out in logs on a baking sheet and then sliced after the logs have been baked and cooled. They come out like a firm cake, not hard like mandelbrot, and they are perfect for dipping in coffee.

I made one almond, one raisin, and one chocolate chip, but next time, I will try making my boulou with a combination of all three. Here's the recipe (shared with permission of Green Bean Books):

BOULOU

from Fabienne Viner-Luzzato (www.fabienneshomecooking.com)

Makes 3 boulou (each one will cut into several slices; number of slices depends on thickness)

Prep time: 30 minutes

Cook time: 15-20 minutes

Ingredients

2 large eggs (2 extra-large eggs in the US)

150 g/5 1/2 oz/3/4 cup sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla sugar

125 ml/4 fl oz/1/2 cup vegetable or sunflower oil

about 500 g/1 lb. 2 oz/ 3 3/4 cups self-raising flour (extra for dusting)

100 g/3 1/2 oz/2/3 cup dark chocolate chips

50g/ 1 3/4 oz/ 1/3 cup raisins

50 g/1 3/4 oz/1/3 cup flaked almonds

1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius/180 degrees Celsius fan/400 degrees Fahrenheit/Gas Mark 6. Line a baking sheet with non-stick baking paper.

2. Place the eggs, both sugars and the vegetable or sunflower oil in a mixing bowl and mix together using a fork. Start adding the flour slowly, mixing with your hands to form a dough. Mix the flour in well, avoiding leaving behind lumps of flour. Add enough flour to make a soft dough -- the consistency of the dough needs to be soft, easy to touch but still slightly sticky.

3. On the work surface, divide your dough into three equal portions to make three different flavored boulou. Add the chocolate chips to one portion of dough, the raisins to another and the flaked almonds to the final portion of dough, kneading each flavoring into the dough until evenly distributed. Cook's Tip: If you prefer, you can mix all the flavoring ingredients together (the chocolate chips, raisins and almonds), then simply divide this mixture into three and knead one portion into each portion of dough.

4. Roll the flavored portions of dough into three equal-length logs (you might need to dust the work surface with a little flour first) and then flatten each one into a rectangle about 5 cm/2-inch wide and 15-20 cm/6-8-inch long, then place on the lined baking sheet.

5. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until they become golden brown. Remove from the oven and transfer to a wire rack, then leave to cool completely. Once cool, cut into 2 cm/3/4-inch thick slices to serve (or you can cut them into thinner slices, if you prefer).

6. Store the baked logs in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 4-5 days, and slice them, as needed. They will keep for longer, but will dry a little -- but they will still taste amazing dipped in hot black coffee!

Besides chocolate, baking, and eating baked goods with coffee, one of our favorite things is Jewish children's books based on Talmudic stories, and Green Bean came through again with Naama Benziman's Lenny and Benny (Green Bean Books, 2021). Originally published in Israel as Noni and Noni-Yoteir (Morris and Morris-More), it is based on the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza (Babylonian Talmud - Gittin 55B). Lenny and Benny are two rabbits that started as friends, but became not so friendly. When Benny has his birthday party, Lenny is accidentally sent an invitation and shows up. Benny wants him to leave. Lenny, much like Bar Kamtza, offers to help with the party, but Benny refuses and kicks out the humiliated Lenny. In this children's book, the story ends happily and Lenny and Benny reconcile. In the Talmud, Bar Kamtza exacts revenge by spreading rumors about the party host and his guests, which ultimately leads to the destruction of the Second Temple. The blue and red illustrations provide a simple complement to the heart-felt text, and I love the double fold out of Benny's party.

While boulou are usually served in Tishrei, and the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza is usually told before Tisha B'Av, they are both appropriate all year long. Cake and coffee are always great, and, for as much as baseless hatred (sinat chinam) was responsible for the destruction of the Temple, unconditional love (ahavat chinam) (and maybe chocolate) will hasten the building of the Third Temple. May it be quickly and in our time!

Sad news from The Real Cats of Israel. Our kittens got sick and are no longer with us. We miss you Yuki, Stormy, and Clawdia!

Happy Reading!

Ink

Two recent books with Jewish content have "ink" in the title:  If All the Seas Were Ink by Ilana Kurshan (St. Martin's Press, 2017), winner of the Jewish Book Council's Sami Rohr Prize for Jewish Literature and Rachel Kadish's The Weight of Ink (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2017), winner of both the 2017 National Jewish Book Council Book Club Award and the 2018 Jewish Fiction Award of the Association of Jewish Libraries.

Besides the title:

• both books are about intelligent women
• both books involve Jewish scholarship
• both books involve the love of books.

If All the Seas Were Ink

I went to hear Ilana Kurshan speak in Jerusalem on May 1. The event took place in the Beis Midrash of the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies, but unlike the four rabbis of the Talmud (Hagigah 14B), I walked out alive, (relatively) sane, and with more knowledge than when I walked in.

Kurshan's memoir is the kind of book I like to read: I want to finish it to see how it ends, but then again, the book is so enjoyable, I want to go slow and savor every word. It takes its title from a famous quote found in rabbinic literature: "God's eternal glory could not be described even if the heavens were parchment, and the forest quills; if all the seas were ink, as well as every gathered water; even if the earth's inhabitants were scribes and recorders of initials." After reading the book, I feel like I know Ilana Kurshan, and more than that, I think we would be friends. We are both lovers of books, and we both value our privacy. We both live in Israel, and we both juggle motherhood, wife-hood and career. After meeting her in person, I learned we are both left-handed, and she is just as sharp and smart in person as she is on the page.

The book is her account of learning the daf yomi, the daily study of Talmud instituted by Rabbi Meir Shapiro of Lublin. She decided to take on the project as a coping mechanism for the challenges in her life at the time, which included divorce after a brief marriage, living in Israel alone, and a tendency to keep to herself. Instead of plodding through life, it became measured in pages learned, and Kurshan woke up every morning looking forward to what she would learn that day. She kept a journal, wrote notes in her Talmud, listened to podcasts when she couldn't sit with the book, and wrote limericks and sonnets to fortify her understanding of the rabbinic discussion. She spoke about how the Talmud page informs daily experience and how experience deepens her understanding of the text. Five years ago she had given birth to twins and was learning the tractate of Shabbos. The description of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai and his son living in a cave felt apropos, as Kurshan spent her days nursing two babies, rarely interacting with anybody else. When she did go out, she was reminded that when Rabbi Shimon and his son finally emerged from the cave, they were overwhelmed and shocked by the mundane pursuits of the world. Rabbi Shimon said to his son, "You and I suffice for the entire world," and they returned to their cave.

Besides over 2,700 pages of Talmud, what did Kurshan learn? How to be a better parent, the value of humility, the willingness to listen to other people's opinions, and that to truly learn Torah, you must write it for yourself. She shared one of her sonnets, about Kiddushin 82b, that ends, "A job may suit a young man when he's spry; But Torah gives old men the wings to fly."

At the lecture, the topic was Talmud. In the book, Kurshan wove her love of literature, particularly poetry, into the story, especially when she and her now husband were getting to know each other. Now that she is on her second cycle of daf yomi, she has moments when she is intrigued by the text and realizes that she enjoyed those passages in the first cycle. She also enjoys the aggadot embedded in the halachic framework, so that the stories inform the law and vice versa.

The Weight of Ink

The lives of two women connect across centuries as Helen Watt, an ailing twenty-first century historian delves into a cache found in an old London home that contains the work of Ester Velasquez, who lived in 1660s London and worked as a scribe for a blind rabbi. The first big discovery for Watt and her assistant is that the rabbi's scribe is a woman, a situation unheard of in "those days."

For me, I knew of certain key points and personalities in that period of history: Oliver Cromwell, Spinoza, Sabbatai Zevi, the Plague, the Inquisition, the first Jews in New Amsterdam. Kadish weaves all of these into the story, making Spinoza's excommunication and Zevi's false Messianism a big part of the story. There is a very strong sense of place in London, so much that you can almost hear the sounds and smell the odors as Ester walks through the streets of the neighborhood on her errands.

She spoke at the Association of Jewish Libraries Conference on June 20th, where she accepted the inaugural Jewish Fiction Award. Kadish told the rapt audience that she starts writing when something is bothering her and she doesn't know what she thinks about it. She wanted to write a story about a woman who doesn't want to die without writing a word. In the Jewish community of the late 1600s, she saw a beautiful and fierce desire to rebuild, but the fragility of the Jews' position in society.  It was fascinating to discover that Kadish doesn't outline first, and that her research and writing are an interactive process. For example, if she decides that her characters will be eating a meal, she then researches the types of foods and how they were cooked, the cost of food, the different utensils, etc.

The day before, Ellen Share led a lively breakfast "book club" meeting, where attendees discussed the book. Ellen's insightful questions sparked debate, and, for me, brought together some of the elements of the story and how they related to each other (NO SPOILERS). We also discussed the merits of reading the book versus listening to it on audio.

Alas, I did not meet any of the Real Cats of Boston, but I was happy to come home to some Real Cats of Israel:

Happy Reading!

Jews and Garlic

Being a garlic lover, I was intrigued to find Garlic, an Edible Biography: The History, Politics, and Mythology behind the World's Most Pungent Food--with over 100 Recipes by Robin Cherry (Roost Books, 2014). Ms. Cherry's book could be subtitled "Everything You Wanted to Know About Garlic, but Were Afraid to Ask," as it is replete with interesting facts (and rumors) about history, mythology (think vampires), agriculture, medicine, and culture. 

"In a 2000 study titled "Effects of Garlic Bread on Family Interactions, Dr. Alan Hirsch, neurological director of The Smell & Taste Treatment and Research Foundation, reported that the smell of garlic bread enhanced positive family interaction by 68.4%, while the taste of it increased pleasant communication by a staggering 99.4%."  I know one family that wouldn't mind eating garlic bread every night, and this may explain the popularity of Olive Garden Restaurants.

What was even more interesting was the connection between Jews and garlic.

One of the first is when the Israelites were wandering in the desert and complained to Moses: "We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt free of charge; the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic. (Numbers 11:5).

In fact, legend has it that garlic boost stamina, so "the Israelite slaves were fed garlic to keep up their strength as they built the fortified cities of Pithom and Raamses for the pharaohs.

When the Jews returned to Israel after the Babylonian exile, Ezra, their leader, decreed several ordinances to perpetuate Judaism: the reading of the Torah on Monday and Thursday (as well as the Sabbath) and, among others, the requirement to eat garlic on Friday nights "because garlic served as an aid to passion and fertility and so would enhance the marital relations that couples were encouraged to enjoy as part of Jewish Sabbath observance." The Talmud (Shabbat 118a-b) suggests a dish of cooked beets, large fish and cloves of garlic to enhance Oneg Shabbat (the enjoyment of the Sabbath). 

The Talmud (Bava Kama, 82a) mentions five qualities of garlic: it satisfies hunger, it warms the body, it illuminates one's face, it increases seed, and it kills parasites in the intestines.

Rabbi Levi Cooper ("World of the Sages -- Garlic Breath," The Jerusalem Post, June 12, 2008) noted that "Eating garlic was so part of Jewish identity that the Mishna rules that if someone pronounces a vow prohibiting benefit "from those who eat garlic," the one who pronounced the vow may not derive benefit from a Jew (M. Nedarim 3:10). This vow is recorded in the Mishna together with two other vows: If someone vowed not to benefit "from those who rest on Shabbat" or "from those who ascend to Jerusalem" - the vow prohibits benefit from any fellow Jew. Thus, just as our people were known to ascend to Jerusalem, and just as our people were known for refraining from work and resting on the seventh day, so too we were known as garlic munchers!"

Jews called themselves garlic eaters (as a compliment), but it was also used as an anti-Semitic slur by Romans, "where the Latin expression 'allium olere' (stinking of garlic) was used to refer to people belonging to a low social class." The medieval concept of the foetor Judaicus (Jewish stink) linked "the sulfurous devil to the base, garlic-smelling Jews and differentiated them from the pure, sweet-smelling (and baptized) Christians. During this period, the German cities of Speyer, Worms, and Mainz were the most important communities of Jewish education in the Holy Roman Empire. The three cities were known collectively as 'shum' (Hebrew for garlic)."

Maimonides wrote a letter to his son in which he warned: "Guard your soul by not looking into books composed by Ashkenazi rabbis, who believe in God only when they eat beef seasoned with vinegar and garlic. They believe that the vapors of vinegar and garlic will ascend their nostrils and thus make them understand that God is near them...You, my son, should stay only in the pleasant company of our Sephardi brothers...because only they have brains and are clever." I found this interesting because present-day Sephardim use a lot of garlic in their cooking.  

Garlic has been referred to as "Russian penicillin, Bronx vanilla, and Italian perfume." Many cultures have a long association with garlic.  Besides the culinary delights, it is also touted with medicinal qualities and it is used in Indian Ayurveda, traditional Chinese medicine, and traditional European medicine. 

While I was intrigued by how many varieties of garlic there are, I was hoping for more Jewish cooking in the recipe section. Cherry credits Lebanon (not Israel) for hummus, and many of the Middle Eastern dishes that Jews eat have been adopted when living in countries like Morocco, Yemen and Tunisia.  She includes "Carciofi alla Giudia" (Artichokes Jewish Style), which is a classic of Roman Jewish Cuisine. Although considered a trendy, ethnic dish now, Jews ate artichokes because they were inexpensive and one of the few foods available in the Jewish ghetto. The "Braised Brisket with 36 Cloves of Garlic," though not particularly Jewish, would make a lovely addition to a holiday meal, and the "Bukharian Fried Fish with Cilantro-Garlic Sauce" is touted as "a traditional Jewish Sabbath dinner in Uzbekistan." If this is so, let's hope they're not using catfish, which is not kosher. One day when I am feeling adventurous, I will attempt the "Roasted Garlic Crème brûlée."

As the Yiddish proverb goes, "A nickel (now $2.50!) will get you on the subway, but garlic will get you a seat."