Debbie Kwiatoski's Blog
Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski
There’s something slightly pernicious about making dolma in December or January. The zucchini, tomatoes and peppers that comprise the edible receptacles into which the spicy lamb and rice mixture is packed cost dearly in the winter months. Summer is the proper time for dolma. When the baby zucchinis grow so fast and furious that you can barely keep up with the bounty and friends rehearse excuses for not taking any more of the sleek green beauties the second you say hello; that is the proper time for dolma. When the tomatoes and peppers hang heavy on the vine, aching to be picked before they begin to pale; that is the proper time for dolma.
But it’s not even Christmas yet – and already the snow has come fast and thick. We’ve barely dug out from one snow storm, and the radio says that another Nor’easter is about to blow in. This time, they say, it looks more like it’s going to be a snow, sleet and freezing rain “event.” When did storms become events? Parties are events, great times with good friends are events. Life’s milestones are events. Another winter storm is, basically, just an excuse to stay home under the covers; to flip on the TV in the middle of the day…and pray the cable hasn’t gone out; to build a fire in the hearth , make a fresh pot of coffee and pull out that book you’ve been struggling to find the time to read. And, if you’ve planned well, to sneak that frozen bundle of zucchini and sweet, whole peppers out of the freezer, make a pot of dolma, and dream of summer.
Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski
I’ve always wondered about the quince tree in my backyard. Wondered who among the generations of "keepers of our home before us" might have planted it – and wondered how they used the hard, crisp fruit that matured on its branches each season. I wonder, because going back through the deed holders of our property, I see an Armenian name, whose stewardship of what is now our house and acreage dates to the 1940s – about right for the maturity of our quince tree. Nearby, the remains of an outside fire pit and grate are also found, the assumption being that the arrangement hosted many seasons of outdoor cooking pots employed for the making of jams and other preserves. A few old canning jars seem to bear this supposition out.
Old apple and pears trees grow nearby, as well, as do the tangled remnants of berry bushes. All still yield fruit, though none are in their prime at this point. I should probably cut them down and plant new staplings in the spring, but I probably won’t. The old still have a few more years – and few more stories to tell. Except for the usual jam and jelly, I rarely see recipes for quince outside of Middle Eastern cooking.
The fruit will ripen nearly anywhere in the world, although the hotter the country, the softer and sweeter the flesh seems to be; the less thick and woolly its skin. Although it can – and often is – eaten raw in the Middle East and throughout the Mediterranean, cooking it brings out the flavor of our Upstate New York quince. Check out some of the recipes I’ve posted for it: Pastegh
Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski
When it comes to talking turkey, never was my Armenian grandmother more out of her element – and my Anglo-American grandmother more in hers. Lucky for us all that they got along quite well. Though my maternal grandmother’s cooking never really any extra spice or exotic seasonings, my paternal grandmother grew to love foods like turkey, jello salads, pumpkin pie and a pineapple upside down cake that, once learned, she began to make on every available occasion.
Even though we always had Turkey for Christmas dinner, my Armenian grandmother soon found ways to incorporate traditional touches of the Middle East into the quintessential American Christmas menu.
No Christmas dinner was complete without her own refrigerator pickles and small bowls of oil-cured, wrinkly black olives alongside tufted mounds of carefully shredded string cheese. A pilaf stuffing, studded with giblets, was preferred over the traditional bread variety, as well. On the table, there would also be lamajun and pida (a flatbread thicker than the pita found in the store today); sometimes some stray dolma leftover from the fall’s freezing; and – usually - thick rolls of paper candy and walnuts; and Aunt Rose’s famous "fish cookies," along with the pineapple upside down cake and the pumpkin pie.
William Saroyan once observed how, wherever they are planted following their vast global dispora, Armenians will sink in their roots and grow a "New Armenia." All you really have to do is take a look at their holiday tables to see that his observation is a true one.
Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski
Chanukah – or the Jewish “Festival of Lights” begins at sunset on December 4th this year (2007) and ends at sunset on December 12th. The festival – which my Jewish friends remind me – is actually one of the minor holidays in the Jewish religious calendar, but coming as close to Christmas as it does, and having the giving of presents, lighting of candles and (of course) eating special holidays foods as part of the celebration, it has taken on more and more significance over the centuries – especially in western countries that celebrate Christmas around the same time.
The holiday commemorates the time in 165 B.C.E., when the Jewish Maccabees, led by the Chashmonaim, defeated the Greeks and their Hellenist allies and regained controlled of their country. As part of the ritual purification of the Temple following their victory, they were supposed to burn an oil lamp continuously for eight days. But they only actually had enough oil to keep the lamp lit for a single day. Miraculously, the lamp burned for eight days anyway (The Miracle of the Oil).
Now, as well all know, there is no better way to solidify the meaning and intent of a ritual act by linking it with specific foods – and Chanukah is no exception. In this case, the emphasis becomes foods that are cooked using oil (like potato latkes and special jelly donuts called sufaganiot)
Check out some of these sites out all things “Chanukah” – including family activities and special recipes for the holiday. I will also be posting a few of my friends “child-centric” recipes for family Chanukah fun on Suite101:
http://www.chiff.com/home_life/holiday/hanukkah.htm
Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski
Remembering back, holiday dinners in our large, extended family were very much a "little bit of the old country – a little bit of the new." Appetizers were typically things like chee kufta (a blend of finely ground raw lamb, softened bulgur, onions, parsley and spices) and hot boergs (little pastries stuffed with cheese or spiced meat), mixed in with such American inventions as potato chips and those salami and cream cheese logs.
Diner itself, be it Thanksgiving or Christmas, always had a turkey on the table – it might have been an unfamiliar fowl when my grandparents first emigrated to the states, but they grew to love it. The catch is that Grandma would always serve it with a pilaf dish filled with tiny giblets and, sometimes, pine nuts. Not exactly your "usual" stuffing….
As my grandparents aged and the next generation took over the holiday duties, the menu began more and more assimilated into the American mainstream. While the pilaf dish remained, my very Anglo mother actually made the very best stuffing in the world (still does). But the Old World foods remained, as well, making our holiday feast a wonderful blend of Turkish, Armenian, Greek and other Middle Eastern specialties, residing amicably on the table with such American staples as fruited Jello salad and, of course, pumpkin pie.
