Eating alla Ebraica

Author Joyce Goldstein explores the culinary heritage of Italian Jews

By Marina Wolf

POLENTA, pomodori, pepperoni . . . these are some of the products that Italy is known for. Many sharp-eyed gourmets know that these ingredients–corn meal, tomatoes, peppers–were brought back from the New World. But, as Joyce Goldstein outlines in her excellent introduction to Cucina Ebraica: Flavors of the Italian Jewish Kitchen (Chronicle Books, 1998; $29.95), these ingredients were most likely introduced to the country by the Jewish population that was always small–never more than a few hundred thousand–but remarkably significant in terms of the evolution of Italian food as we know it today.

In retrospect, this influence was one of the few silver linings to the cloud of anti-Semitic oppression that cloaked medieval and Renaissance Spain and Italy, according to Goldstein and her sources. Some Jews had lived in Italy from 200 B.C., and their persecution has been documented for nearly that long.

“The Jews were allowed to do only certain professions, and import and trade was one of them,” says Goldstein.

Because of this segregation, the Sephardic Jews in Spain were uniquely positioned to be among the first to see the new vegetables brought in on Columbus’ ships. Driven away by the Spanish Inquisition, the Spanish Jews brought the new crops to Italy, where the Jews in trade there would have been the first to try them out and introduce the vegetables to the rest of the Jewish population.

In spite of these important contributions to Italian cuisine, Jewish Italian food has gotten very little attention in the United States. The reason is simple: most Jewish immigrants to the United States have been Ashkenazi, from Central and Eastern Europe. This population brought in food that can be delicious, but all too often home-cooked Ashkenazi food is interpreted as bland and overdone, says Goldstein. “Sephardim are in the minority here, but they got better food,” she says with a wry laugh.

Goldstein has sought out that “better food” for most of her professional life. Square One, her acclaimed restaurant in San Francisco, was a showcase for Mediterranean specialties. And her next book explores even more far-flung regions of Jewish culinary influence: Greece, Turkey, North Africa, the Arab countries.

Over the centuries the diaspora of Sephardim from Spain spread across the Mediterranean and Middle East, even to India and China, leaving ever-shifting communities of Jews to adapt new foodstuffs to the age-old demands of kosher law.

Kosher law regulates the serving of certain seafood (no shellfish or fish without scales) and animals (only cud-chewers with cloven hooves, slaughtered in a kosher fashion). Most important, kosher law requires that meat and dairy be kept separate at all times: no Parmesan over a meat sauce, no cream-based desserts at the end of a meal with meat. Non-Jewish cooks may be perplexed at these restrictions, and of course do not need to observe them, but they will find a wealth of possibilities within these ancient dictates.

Finding the traditions in the first place was an act of both faith and scholarship for Goldstein.

“I am a food historian, in addition to being a good cook.” What she found in her research were fragments, recipes presented in Italian cookbooks as regional specialties, without any indication of their Jewish-influenced history. Or they were oral traditions jotted down by friends of friends, with all the spotty directions that usually entails: “add a handful of flour” or “roast until done.” Even if the recipe appeared in one of the few Italian Jewish cookbooks, Goldstein still had to do some research. “Often people print the recipe, but they never bother to show you the roots of the tradition,” she says.

FOR CLUES, she most often turned to such simple things as ingredients. Take eggplant and fennel, for example. Now thoroughly integrated into Italian cookery, these vegetables once were as segregated in the greengrocer’s window as the Jews were themselves in larger society. The Jewish Italians picked up on them first, which meant that other Italians avoided the vegetables well into the 19th century. Dishes were also named alla ebraica or alla giudia (pronounced “judea”), or perhaps included a biblical figure in the name: crema di carciofi Ester (artichoke soup, symbolizing the bitterness in life) or pollo Ezechiele.

Such weighty biblical connotations could be lost on most cooks. But even a “cultural Jew” such as Goldstein says her work at the crossroads of culture and cuisine has changed her life in subtle but important ways.

“It has made me aware of my Judaism in a very different way,” Goldstein says thoughtfully.

“I am not necessarily going to become kosher or an Orthodox Jew, but I have developed a huge admiration for the ability of a culture to stay joyfully alive.”

Joyce Goldstein will be demonstrating a dairy-free holiday menu from Cucina Ebraica at Ramekins Sonoma Valley Culinary School on Wednesday, Dec. 1, from 6:30 to 9:30 p.m. Registration fee is $55. For details or to register, call 933-0450.

From the November 24-December 1, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Something new: Steve Bernstein of 21st Century Pastry in Petaluma puts new twists on traditional fare.

Sweet Talk

Local bakers share holiday secrets

By Paula Harris

FORGET VETIVER, geranium, and bergamot. At this time of year, the sweet fragrance of Christmas cookies, pumpkin pies, or rugelach turning golden in the oven is the ultimate aromatherapy. The enticing scent envelops the kitchen and transports you back to a time when your grandmother was baking for the holidays. It subconsciously fills you with that warm secure feeling of being nurtured. And it causes a childlike twinge of excitement because it signifies the beginning of the festive holiday season.

In my family, the holidays really began with an annual visit from my grandmother, who would arrive from the north of England proudly bearing an airtight old biscuit tin crammed with layers of home-baked goodies: strawberry jam tarts, glistening like red jewels; sunny lemon-curd pastries; and tiny sweet-mince pies dusted with powdered sugar.

We’d dip our hands into this aluminum treasure trove and extract a flaky treat. We loved them all (even the couple that were always invariably “decorated” with a stray hair from Nanna’s white cat). I think we especially prized this holiday offering because no one else in the family knew how to make pastry.

The days when apron-clad grandmothers and aunts regularly clustered over cookie sheets and pastry boards may be gone, but there’s something about the holidays that compels even those folks who do little baking throughout the year to scrub out their cake pans and dust off their candy thermometers.

Yet the thought of baking can send cold shivers down the spine of even the most proficient of cooks. Some bakeries, such as Healdsburg’s Downtown Bakery and Creamery, understand the dilemma of yearning to bake but feeling incapable. They offer their popular old-fashioned “Sugar Baby” pumpkin pies either fully baked or as a kit consisting of a frozen ready-to-bake shell and a container of filling. “So you can bake it yourself at home,” the packaging exclaims. Foolproof!

But why is baking so scary?

“It’s because baking is not quite as freeform as regular cooking–there’s a bit more chemistry involved,” explains Michelle Marie DeFors, owner and pastry chef at Michelle Marie’s Patisserie in Santa Rosa. “Beginners should start with a tea bread,” she suggests. “Pies can be a bit daunting.”

According to DeFors, even many inexperienced bakers have a problem making pie crust. “Things like rolling it out, dealing with shrinkage, and being sure to let the dough rest before putting it into the pie plate can all cause problems,” she says.

So does this pastry chef, who often fields “emergency” calls from home bakers begging her to help save their failed works in progress, have any tips to share?

“I think it’s best to freeze the pie crust first before putting in the filling,” she says. “And if your crust has droopy edges, make a little foil collar for the sides and fix it on with paper clips, then remove it later to finish browning.”

FOR DEFORS, who grew up in Sebastopol, the flavor of apples became synonymous with the holidays. “My whole family loves food and we all baked together,” she recalls. “Those special apple cakes, pies, and streusels played a big part in our holiday traditions.”

She advises that once you get more accomplished in the baking world, you can experiment a little. “Take something from a memory and alter it into a new idea,” she says. “It’s fun.”

Beth LaFrance–whose homey business Beth the Baker in Sebastopol will feature cranberry orange-nut bread, pumpkin bread, and gingerbread for the holidays–has a few more tips. “Always measure accurately and don’t stray from the recipe, because that can really upset the balance,” she says. “Try one simple recipe, follow it faithfully and make it as close to consumption as possible, because freshness counts.”

If you’re making Christmas cookies, you don’t need to keep peeking in the oven, she adds. “When you can smell the cookies, they’re probably done.”

According to LaFrance, the art of baking is unique because you start out with a bunch of ingredients that look nothing like your finished creation. “It’s not like making soup or roast beef,” she says.

Is there one baking item that LaFrance couldn’t live without? “Definitely parchment paper,” she immediately replies. “I use it for everything. My food never touches a tray or a baking pan. The parchment paper keeps the food from sticking and the bottoms from burning.”

HOW DO bakers come up with new holiday creations? “It’s a selfish thing according to our own taste,” says Steve Bernstein, of 21st Century Pastry in Petaluma. Bernstein and his business partner, Phyllis Heagney, sit face to face in a small room and throw out ideas for new seasonal treats. “We like intense flavors and different twists on traditionalism,” he adds.

Making their debuts at 21st Century this year are chocolate cranberry marzipan tart, chocolate pumpkin shortbread tart, and Scottish cranberry shortbread tart.

“I don’t think my creativity developed until I was in the field,” says Bernstein. “However, my grandmother was a great influence–her favorite was coffee; she used it in everything–for years. I thought coffee Jell-O was normal,” he quips.

That particular culinary encounter influenced Bernstein’s coffee chiffon pie with orange juice in the crust. “Baking is a science more exact than cooking and a recipe has be to followed to a T. It shouldn’t be fiddled with unless you know what you’re doing,” he advises. “But it’s nothing to be afraid of–if you follow the directions.”

The holiday season is pastry chef Condra Easley’s favorite time of year. “It seems so magical in here,” says the co-owner of Renaissance Pastry in Santa Rosa.

She describes some of the bakery’s winter delights: linzertortes topped with cranberry-raspberry-blueberry compote cooked with honey, cinnamon, and orange; pumpkin cheesecakes with a gingersnap crust; and traditional “bûche de Noël” Yule logs.

“I like to bring together flavors that evoke childhood memories–good childhood memories and hopefully not [bad] flashbacks,” Easley says with a laugh. “When I was barely able to reach the counter, my aunt had me up on a chair to bake chocolate chip cookies.”

Easley likes to experiment with various harmonizing flavors, “natural combinations like caramels and pears or apples and walnuts,” she explains.

She offers the following timesavers for home bakers: “Make the pie dough ahead of time, roll it out, cover it really well, and freeze it. Then let it defrost a bit before putting it in the oven, or roll it out the day before and keep it covered in the refrigerator,” she says.

“And make holiday cookies ahead of time and keep them in the freezer in Ziploc bags. Then pull them out and decorate them later.”

Anything else?

“Always use the best possible ingredients or you might as well just buy the pie from a big-box discount store. Use good-quality unsalted butter, imported chocolate bars, and real vanilla extract instead of artificial,” she says. “Oh, yes, and put a lot of love into it.”

Pumpkin Pecan Pie

If you can’t decide between the two holiday favorites, this pie from Renaissance Pastry offers the best of both worlds.

Single pie crust:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/2 tsp. salt 1/3 cup cold Crisco 3 tbsp. cold water

Pumpkin pecan filling:

2/3 cup dark Karo (corn) syrup 3/4 cup medium brown sugar Pinch of salt 2 tsp. melted butter 4 whole eggs 1 cup Libby’s solid-pack pumpkin 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon 1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg 1/2 tsp. ground allspice 1/4 tsp. ground ginger 1/4 tsp. ground cloves 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract 2 cups toasted pecan halves

To make pie crust: In a food processor, cut together the flour, salt, and cold Crisco by pulsing until mixture has a texture like cornmeal. Add cold water and pulse. Mixture should form a ball and travel around the bowl. Add more water if you don’t see that. (If you don’t have a food processor, use a bowl and cut in fat with a pastry blending tool or two cold knives.) Do not overmix or dough will be tough. Form into a ball. It is not necessary to refrigerate unless you have overmixed. Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface until approximately 12 inches in diameter. Ease onto a 9-inch pie plate to avoid stretching. Trim edge to 1/2 inch beyond edge of crust and make a decorative border. Refrigerate until ready to use.

To make filling: In a medium bowl combine Karo syrup, brown sugar, salt, and melted butter. Stir in eggs and mix well. Add pumpkin, spices, and vanilla. Add nuts and pour into unbaked pie shell. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 to 30 minutes. Cover edges of crust if it browns too quickly. Pie is done when firm and slightly puffed.

Serves 8.

From the November 24-December 1, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Cinfully delicious: Chefs John Gillis and Gina Armanini, both of Glen Ellen’s Girl and the Fig fame, have moved their culinary expertise to Calistoga, creating the sensational Cin Cin.

Cinsational!

Three cheers for Calistoga’s Cin Cin

By Paula Harris

SINCE CALISTOGA is just a hop, skip, and a scenic 18-minute drive on undulating Calistoga Road from Santa Rosa’s Rincon Valley, you can almost believe this small country town belongs in Sonoma County. What the heck, let’s forget boundary lines and adopt it. On a recent blustery fall evening, we strolled down the Old West-style main street, with its old-fashioned street lamps and warmly glowing shops, and were stopped in our lazy tracks by a chalkboard beckoning from one street corner. “Tonight,” it announced in large happy script, “Grilled rabbit–Lamb osso bucco with gnocchi–New wines beaujolais/chablis/zin/syrah!”

We were outside Cin Cin. The chalkboard worked its magic and lured us into the handsome restaurant for dinner. Chefs John Gillis and Gina Armanini, both of Glen Ellen’s Girl and the Fig fame, opened the Italian-inspired bistro in neighboring downtown Calistoga this summer, and we were eager to try it.

Cin Cin (pronounced Chin Chin and meaning “cheers” in Italian) has a very architecturally aesthetic dining room. Lots of clean lines but not at all cold or sterile. The walls are a light eggnog color, and incandescent egg-shaped lamps hang from the ceiling. A pair of potted palms stand like leafy sentinels by the door in their terra-cotta urns. The sound system plays tasteful classical and Italian selections.

There are beautiful framed black-and-white photographs depicting Georgia O’Keeffe-type blooms, and outdoor scenes of fields and clouds. The tables are all white and silver (crisp white linens, tea lights in glasses, silvery breadbaskets, white china, and gleaming wine goblets). There are also counter seats by the open kitchen.

The baked goat cheese ($8.50) was soft and luscious. The warm pile of cheese (which had only the softest bite of tanginess) was set on a crispy fig leaf (according to our server) from the owner’s garden. The leaf seemed glazed with a slight honey flavor. There were plenty of toast slices on which to smear the chèvre. As a nod to their last employ, the chefs included a handful of sweet, juice-laden black mission figs to the dreamy dish. One quibble: the vinaigrette on the accompanying salad greens was a bit too tart and jarring against the creaminess of the baked cheese.

The warm salad of duck confit ($8.50) may be called “salad” but sure ain’t rabbit food and was very welcoming on this autumn evening. It consisted of generous shredded duck, toothy white flageolet beans, French beans, and some feathery frisée greens all dressed in a pancetta-shallot vinaigrette. Highly recommended for its flavor combo, substantial texture, and ability to fill and warm the tummy.

Risotto with roasted wild and cultivated mushrooms and truffle oil ($15.50) boasted outrageously plump and moist grains of rice and a melange of mushrooms that seemed to invoke the smokiness of grilled meat. “It’s positively steaklike,” announced our vegetarian companion, sporting a silly grin. However, on another visit he was less pleased with a pasta special ($15) containing fava beans, goat cheese, and heirloom tomatoes, because the fettuccine was clumped together.

The grilled quail ($18) was well presented, with two slender birds resting on a bed of delicate butternut-squash risotto. The golden birds were not overcooked and were flavored with a thyme demi-glace.

ONE OF THE MOST outstanding dishes was the lamb osso bucco ($17). Served in an oversize soup bowl, the hearty but highly tender lamb shanks were surrounded by a super-thick rich gravy that begged to be dunked with crusty bread. Airy cushions of house-made gnocchi added soft texture, although their flavor was somewhat lost beneath all the brawny flavors. A marvelous robust dish to come home to after toiling in the fields (or at the computer) all day.

Armanini has created some fine desserts. Gravenstein apple galette ($6.50) was served warm in a pool of brandied caramel sauce and accompanied by vanilla bean ice cream. The shakes of powdered cinnamon around the edge of the plate gave the dish a spicy burst.

The wafer-thin baked cannoli ($7) was filled with sweet fresh ricotta, dark chocolate, and candied orange. Melted chocolate and a variety of candied nuts completed the yummy picture.

Cin Cin has an exciting eclectic wine list, with bottles from France, Spain, Australia, Italy, Sonoma and Napa counties, and California’s Central Coast. Many wines are available by the glass. Even so, many patrons bring in their own bottles (there’s an $8 corkage fee).

The staff is knowledgeable and caring, and the pace is luxurious and unrushed. But reservations are greatly recommended (the restaurant turned away many who arrived later in the evening without them).

Cheers to Cin Cin–it’s definitely worth the short jaunt.

Cin Cin Address: 1440 Lincoln Road, Calistoga; 942-1008 Hours: Wednesday-Monday, 5:30 to 10 p.m. Food: Italian-inspired bistro Service: Knowledgeable and professional Ambiance: Classy Price: Moderate to expensive Wine list: Excellent varied selection by the bottle or the glass Overall: 3 1/2 stars (out of 4)

From the November 18-24, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.