Holiday Goodies

It’s not easy being Jewish during the Christmas season, especially if you’re a kid. Chanukah is great, don’t get me wrong. Presents for eight nights in a row. Lighting the candles and watching them flicker in the menorah until they gradually fade away. And I’m a big fan of the latke. But compared to Christmas? Really?

Imagine, then, what my son Luke had to contend with, growing up Jewish and having an older brother who got to celebrate Chanukah and Christmas while he celebrated only the Festival of Lights. And it was all my fault. I married a non-Jew, had a son with him and got divorced. Then I met my true love (Luke’s father) and created our modern nuclear family. Three Jews and a mixed-breed (sorry, Craig), who marched in a Christmas pageant at his father’s church wearing the robe of a king – the same year he was deep in preparation for his bar mitzvah. Holiday time in our household was always a bit fraught.

When you think of Jamaica, what's the first thing that comes to mind? Besides beautiful beaches and vacation spots, Jamaica offers amazing food and culture. One of their most popular imports is the method of jerk, which can be applied to everything from seafood to meat. It produces the most succulent and tender meat, not to mention hot and spicy! You'll find jerk stands throughout the Caribbean—as it's practically their form of fast food. That's the best part about jerk—once you've made the rub and marinated the meat overnight, it's ready for grilling. There couldn't be an easier dish for feeding a ravenous crowd this upcoming Memorial day weekend.

Barbecuing is synonymous with Memorial day as well as jerk. Traditionally it's either smoked in open pits or barbecued in steel drum grills. Here in the States, where jerk has been popular for many years, it's either oven-roasted or grilled over charcoal or gas. What sets jerk apart from any other type of barbecue is its particular blend of spices, including the essential allspice, which is called pimento in Jamaica. There they not only grind the dried berries for the jerk rub, but they also use the pimento wood and leaves for smoking the meat. The next most important ingredient is Scotch bonnet pepper. As you can imagine it provides a lot of heat. Jerk wouldn't be jerk without some form of heat, making you sweat and cool down in a hot Caribbean climate.

Americans in particular love a good chocolate chip cookie. That's in large part do to Ruth Wakefield, a home baker in Massachusetts, who in 1930 opened a lodge call The Toll House Inn.

One day as she was making her Butter Drop Do cookies, she tossed some Nestle semi-sweet chocolate into the dough expecting it to get all melty. It didn't. In fact, the cookies were tantalizingly creamy and chocolaty, becoming an instant hit at the Inn. Eventually Ruth ventured into a partnership with Nestle and, lo and behold, the famous Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie was born. Nearly 80 years later, they remain one of America's favorite cookies.

So for all of my fellow chocolate chip cookie lovers out there, I've got a special Christmassy chocolate chip cookie for you: Chocolate Chip, Cherry, and Pistachio Cookies. When you bite into the slightly crisp exterior, you'll discover a soft chewy center studded with sweet chocolate chips, tart dried cherries, and rich pistachios.

When I think of Halloween, I think hot dogs.  People tend to find this association odd, some are even angered by it, but to me it feels perfectly natural.  When I was younger, my mother used to grill hot dogs in our driveway for the trick or treaters and dole out beer in red plastic cups to the adults, providing a bit of a respite for parents whose kids were running around the neighborhood injected with copious amounts of sugar. 

I was never much of a walker and I never got off on travelling in packs (why I live in New York I don't know), but even more importantly, I loved and still adore a good hot dog.  Essentially, this ritual made my Halloween quite perfect.

The ritual ended, sadly, when I moved to New York to go to college.  There are very few driveways in Manhattan, and there is a bar or a Gray's Papaya on every street corner, so if people need a beer or a frank, they are basically set year round.  Nobody shared my passion for hot dogs at Halloween, unless they were terribly after drunk taking too many orange jello shots at some themed downtown party, in which case that little beef wonder became something of a valuable commodity, a bonafide savior in fact.