The war against Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis is still raging, sadness still tinges our days. It’s hard to think we have reached a second Chanukah of the war, a second Chanukah without the hostages back yet, as they remain suffering in the dark.
Time marches on and takes on a momentum of its own, and here we are, it’s the holiday of Chanukah. The task and mission of radiating light upon darkness is upon us.
Amidst this distressing time, I was glad to see that some corny and cheesy Chanukah signs that bring a smile to the face are still alive and well. “A Whole Latka Love This Holiday Season” was one that caught my fancy.
While it may not have a play-on-words of its own, I must say, the same applies to sufganiyot, too. The old-school kind, mind you. Simple and dripping red raspberry jam filled, thank you. At most, perhaps a squirt of dulce de leche in there. But none of those fancy shmancy vertically decorated champagne and gold leaf style sufganiyot turned frosted miniature birthday cakes complete with complementary petite syringe filled shots on the side — none of those for moi. The humble deep fried pillowy sufganiyot dough showered like falling snow with sweet confectioners sugar is it, and the taste of Chanukah is complete.
Latkes too. The humble crisp piping hot freshly fried classic potato latke is the taste of Chanukah for me.
“A Whole Latka Love,” now that’s a corny line I can enjoy and get used to.
As I revel in my old school simple tastes, I can’t help but notice how the humble latke, like its sweet Chanukah culinary companion, has been elevated and patchked into a whole new level of fancy, too.
I used to think a freshly fried lacy latke, straight from the frying pan, was the ultimate. But these days, it seems, the latke is enjoyed as more of a neutral vehicle, to be topped, heightened and layered with a variety of toppings and flavor combinations.
Nowadays, it’s all about The Latke Bar, or The Latke Board. The warm potato-y latkes are nestled amidst a variety of dips, crudites or garnishes. Even a spin off of chrein (the magenta horseradish beet condiment) normally reserved for gefilte fish, but now transformed into gentle lilac colored roasted beet horseradish and creme fraiche, has made it to these latke boards.
Taking a latke as a bruschetta, it can be Italian-ized as a latke caprese. Mexican cuisine can be grafted onto the latke with guacamole or salsa. When I saw these new varieties of latke, I said to myself, “Hey! How about a latke version of nachos? It can be called Lachos!”
While I haven’t seen the Lachos portmanteau around yet, apparently the latke nachos concept has long been invented.
Speaking of lachos, it kind of sounds like Hungarian lecho, with all those delicious sauteed bell peppers (which would probably make a nice latke topping, too). I’m sure you can keep tracing the map and customizing the latke according to different nationalities and their cuisines.
Lox, dill, capers and pickled purple onions would be a nice Jewish-American twist. Alternatively, top the latke with a fried sunny-side-up egg. Some hummus or feta dip or sauteed eggplant would be an apt Israeli twist. Good old fried onions and mushrooms are a classic.
For fleishig, meat latkes — pairing latkes with pastrami — have been around for a long time now. I do remember being surprised by how tasty the Thanksgiving-Chanukah hybrid of dipping latkes into tart cranberry sauce instead of the more traditional apple sauce was.
Then there are the truly complex foodie style latkes, about which I plead the fifth. Here I am, still proud of myself for “mastering” the classic simple latke, as I still remember the years I started frying latkes, not quite knowing what I was doing, producing a smoked-filled kitchen whose windows needed to be opened immediately — as well as oil that became charred.
Now I know what to do. I’m content to remain a no-frills old-school competent latke maker, grating a high ratio of onion to potato, creating an almost custard like batter with the added eggs, sprinkling salt judiciously with freshly ground black pepper, and a drop of a binder of your choice: flour with baking powder, oats or matzah meal.
It’s traditional. It’s perfect. Especially once you place a bowl of cold creamy sour cream and a bowl of homemade cinnamon-simmered apple sauce beside the copious platters of latkes.
The only thing missing would be that sweet corny sign “A Whole Latka Love.”
I think I’ll have to replicate it as an addition to the table scape. I think this year we could all use a little bit of, or more like a whole lot of, that comforting latka love.
As we pray that this is the final Chanukah of this pain-filled war, and that by the time you are reading this the hostages will have been released, back home in the embrace of their loving families.
That’s the real kind of love we need this year.
© IJN 2024
