The mere mention of Rosh Hashanah generates a torrent of memories. Whether it is the solemnity of the Jewish New Year, the “official” end of summer and beginning of the school year, or perhaps the culinary customs we grew up with, most Jews will wax poetic with childhood recollections.
My most poignant memories center around the synagogue, as my father was the cantor and that came with big implications. On the High Holy Days my friends and I hung around the synagogue steps until one of the ushers would come out and scold us. We were wearing new clothes (mine bought on New York’s Lower East Side) and new black patent leather shoes. The services seemed to take forever – we had to wait endlessly before we could enjoy the Kiddush and head home for lunch.
The meal included sweet round challahs with raisins, served with honey, apples and honey; pomegranate seeds, a new fruit to us; gefilte fish, chicken soup, roast chicken and brisket; potatoes and salads; and the dreaded taiglach among the desserts (pyramid-shaped concoction of honey-drenched fried dough balls). I skipped the taiglach and went for the apple crumb cake.
Living in Israel has exposed me to so many traditions, way beyond the Ashkenazi customs I grew up with. I feel so fortunate to experience the “hag” the way others enjoy it. My Sephardic friends, and especially their mothers, regale me with wondrous tales from “back home.”
Wilma grew up in Tripoli, Libya, where life was fine until Israel became a state – then the situation for Jews throughout the Arab world changed dramatically. Her family left behind a wealthy lifestyle with expensive furnishings, household help and endless resources. “My mother wanted to create a special Rosh Hashanah atmosphere for us, and the fact that she had been forced to move from a mansion with maids to a tent in the desert didn’t rattle her. For the High Holidays, she took out the exquisite antique carpets from Persia that we had brought, unrolled them and decorated the floor of the tent – which was nothing more than sand and stones. I’ll never forget how impor- tant it was to her that our home look festive,” Wilma explains.
Her treasured copy of the Cordon Bleu Cooking School book, a very old copy of a Jewish Libyan cookbook and La Cucina Nella Tradizione Ebraica issued by WIZO are the staples of her kitchen and enable her to preserve her holiday traditions (although I know for a fact that she remembers the recipes by heart and improvises as she sees fit).
Linda, from Aleppo, Syria, recalls her family traditions: “We all went to the Bet Knesset – even the women. When we returned home the main meal would be served. On Rosh Hashanah we observed the custom of saying seven brachot before we ate.” She starts to recall the prayers and the food associated with each. “There was the head of the fish – and not the tail – so that you would always be in front and not trailing behind. There was the rimon (pomegranate) with its multitude of seeds – so that you will be fruitful and multiply. And of course apples with honey (this tradition seems to be global), and dates and pumpkin in sugar…”
She remembers the black-eyed peas and the spinach with chickpeas. “But why we ate them, I don’t remember.” The fish they ate was carp – stuffed with rice and walnuts or pine nuts with a variety of spices. “We heard that over in Palestine they ate ground fish with sugar – we couldn’t believe that!” She laughs as she refers to the Ashkenazi staple of gefilte fish.
Her father and his neighbor would gather hundreds of kilos of pomegranates around Rosh Hashanah time and bring them home. A major production ensued turning all the seeds into pomegranate juice and syrup. That is a family tradition Linda has continued with her husband.
In Israel commercialism is alive and well as the gift shops are hopping with customers around the holiday. It is common to buy presents – for your family, your friends and of course your hosts if you’re lucky enough to be invited out. Lines are everywhere; ribbons and gift wrap have their very best season and every possible tchotchke is offered for sale and on sale.
While it is usual for the synagogues in the United States to be filled to capacity on the hagim, here, too, non-observant Jews come out of the closet to listen to the shofar and attend Yom Kippur services. It’s universal – religious observances, culinary customs, festive meals with families and friends, reflection, repentance – all part of the excitement of the New Year. May yours be sweet. Shana Tova!
Anne Kleinberg, author of Menopause in Manhattan and several cookbooks, left a cushy life in Manhattan to begin a new one in Israel. Now she’s opened a boutique bed and breakfast in her home on the golf course in Caesarea. For details, visit annekleinberg.com and casacaesarea.com.
