Pan- Fried Trout

photo-2The family vacations we took with my parents were typically to parks in California.  Sequoia, Yosemite, Mammoth, Big Sur, Lake Tahoe.  They were simple vacations, all within driving distance.  There were eight of us, and we usually stayed in cabins inside the parks, ate in the park concessions, and spent our days hiking or going on ranger walks.

We just returned from a family trip to Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks, and though my parents are no longer alive, I thought of them often during this particular trip.  I knew how much my father would have enjoyed the wildlife, and I was sure that my excitement at seeing bison and bears would have paled in comparison to what his reaction might have been.  I thought of my mother and knew how much she would have loved being with us, to have had the opportunity to see her grandchildren all grown up,  and get to know her granddaughter-in-law.  I knew that they would have “kvelled” when their youngest grandson broke the family record of never having caught a fish, by catching a beautiful trout in Lake Yellowstone.  I was grateful for the memories I had of watching my mother prepare fish, so when I found myself suddenly faced with the task, I was able to stun, kill, gut, and scale the trout as my husband and kids looked on.  An hour later the trout was  presented to us on platters, graciously prepared by the chef at Lake Lodge.

We’ve been home for a week, but I am still thinking of our trip, and especially Yellowstone.  Instead of our typical Shabbat dinner, tonight we are having fish.  Trout, of course.

As one of the guides said to me, “Americans are always going somewhere else, but there is plenty of beauty in our own backyard.”  Amen and Happy 4th of July.  Shabbat Shalom.

Pan-Fried Trout 

The chef at Lake Lodge told me  she soaked the trout in milk for a few minutes, then lightly dredged it in flour, and seasoned to taste.  The only thing I changed is that I added some cornmeal to the flour mixture for extra crunch, and pan-fried the trout in my cast iron pan.

1  3-4 pound trout, boned and cut into fillets

1/2 cup milk

1/4 cup flour and equal amount of cornmeal

1/2 tsp salt and pepper to taste

1 tsp paprika

3 Tb butter

1 Tb olive oil

Soak trout in milk to cover for about 15 minutes. Drain and pat dry.  Combine flour and cornmeal and add seasonings.  Lightly dredge trout, then shake off excess coating.  Put butter in a cast iron pan along with olive oil.  Melt butter and place fillets in hot pan, skin side up, for about 5 minutes, depending on size.  Turn over and cook an extra five minutes, adding more butter if necessary.  Serve with lemon wedges, fresh corn and a cold beer.

Enjoy,

Irene

 

Sara’s Muesli

photo-2Last week my mother-in-law Lillian Saiger passed away and the family sat Shiva in Toronto.  This time I was not the mourner, but the supporter, and watching from that perspective allowed me to see the beauty and choreography of Shiva.  As I sat with my husband, sisters-in-law, and Uncle Dave, I observed the sadness, loss, and the intensity of their mourning, but there were other aspects to this rich tradition.  Friends and family arrived to share stories of my mother-in-law, some even walked in carrying photos, others talked about her recipes.  People showed  their respect by coming by to wish their condolences, but their kindness was also demonstrated as they quietly dropped off a plate of their favorite dishes for the family to share, small gifts meant to console and sweeten the bitterness that the family was experiencing.   Plates of home-made poppy-seed cookies, a loaf of banana bread, a noodle-cheese kugel, Quiche, home-made cupcakes and red velvet cookies.  People provided meals, even from a distance, a salve to help heal the wounds.

I listened to stories of my mother-in-law from people who knew her from various stages of life, and learned all kinds of things that I didn’t know.   She wore bikinis, as a young woman she smoked, she invited my father-in-law on a date soon after they first met.  A South African friend shared that my mother-in-law was her mentor, and told me that when she first moved to Toronto, my mother-in-law took her under her wing and encouraged her to play bridge so that she would meet new people.  I met someone who told me that just after her husband passed away, Lil insisted that she join her for Shabbat dinner.  I watched my children, nieces and nephews come together as part of this choreography, with such grace and beauty, each one finding their unique way to help and support each other and their parents.

Were there any great surprises, not really.  I found out that there was an explanation for why my mother-in-law’s fricassee recipe looked darker and richer than my version. I was missing an ingredient.  During Shiva Lil’s niece Carol told me that when Lil gave her the recipe, she said to add a little grape jelly, grape juice, or even some Manishewitz.  I was so taken aback, how was it that I never knew this, but Carol reassured me that it wasn’t that Lil had intentionally left out an ingredient, but rather that the recipe changed over the years, a work in progress.

On the last morning the Cappe girls provided breakfast, the last meal before the mourners “got up” for the customary walk.  It was the final dance, and after the davening we sat down to a meal that Lil would have approved of, and enjoyed.

Sara’s Muesli

4 cups rolled oats
1 cup unsweetened coconut
1 cup toasted almonds (chopped or I used almond slivers)
1 cup of seeds (I used sunflower or pumpkin)
1/4 cup chia seeds (optional)
1.5 cups dried fruit (I used raisins and craisins)
1 cup light coconut milk
3 cups milk (I used almond milk)
1 tsp vanilla
4 tbsp maple syrup
Cinnamon (to taste)
1 package frozen blueberries

Toast the oats and coconut on unlined baking sheets at 325 for 5-7 min (take out before the coconut burns)
Toast the almonds on the stove until browned.
Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl and stir. Leave overnight and it’s ready to eat the next morning. Serve with yogurt, berries, more nuts or dried fruits. Sometimes in the morning I add in a bit more milk if it’s mostly absorbed.  NOTE: Enough for a crowd and as is customary to say in Toronto, auf simchas.

Enjoy!

Irene

Almond Crisps

IMG_1008Our Mishloah Manot arrived on the East Coast today, and though it may be too late to share this recipe in time for  your mishloah manot, I promise that these cookies are worth making any time, even after Purim!

Preparations began last Sunday morning with a trip to Trader Joe’s to stock up on baking supplies, and as you might have seen on Facebook, some packages of quick cooking grains.  By 10:00 a.m. I was home, in the kitchen, and had my radio turned on to my favorite station (the one that plays lots of Pink and Adele).  I rolled up my sleeves, divided my counter space into three stations, and after several hours, had three varieties of cookies ready to freeze (so they would stay fresh before shipping), and one batch of spiced nuts cooling on the stove.

In the afternoon I went to Sawtelle Ave. with a friend, a street filled with Japanese markets and shops.  I love going there, the prepared foods smell great, the produce is beautiful, and even though it’s just a few miles from my house, it’s a whole different world.  We did some shopping for the Purim baskets, ate some sushi, and headed home.  On Thursday, the gift baskets were assembled, packed and shipped.
 
Now what? I sit back and wait for the reviews and the comments.  They will come, and I am ready for them, feeling a little bit nervous, and of course, curious as well.  In the meantime, I am enjoying a delicious glass of wine with an almond crisp.  Hope they’ll enjoy them too.  Chag Purim Sameach.
 
Almond Crisps   adapted from a recipe by David Lebovitz

8 tablespoons butter, unsalted, cubed

1 1/3 cups Turbinado raw cane sugar

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/3 cup  water

2 1/3 cups  flour

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 cup sliced almonds

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Melt the butter in a medium-sized saucepan over low heat with the sugar, cinnamon, and water.  Stir until the butter melts but don’t allow to boil.  Don’t allow the sugar to completely dissolve.  Remove from heat and stir in the flour, baking soda, and almonds until well mixed.  Line a 9-inch loaf pan with plastic wrap and press the dough into the pan so the top is smooth.  Chill in the fridge until firm.        IMG_1004

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Remove dough from loaf pan and place on wooden board.  Using a very sharp knife, slice the dough as thin as possible, across the width.  Thin equals crisp!!   Place cookies on parchment paper covered baking sheets and bake for 10-15 minutes, or until the undersides are golden brown.  Flip the cookies over and bake an additional 10-15 minutes, until the cookies are crisp and deep golden-brown on top. The baking times depend on how thin you cut the cookies.

Enjoy,

Irene

 

Jenny’s Eggplant Parmesan

photo-15As a child I was frightened of revolving doors, worried that they wouldn’t slow down long enough for me to get out.  Eventually I overcame my fear, (I must admit I still don’t like them) but in truth revolving doors are unavoidable, and have become somewhat of a metaphor.  People seem to come in and out of my life, particularly at work where young adults are often experiencing their first job in the non-profit world, moving on after several years.  I tend to “adopt” these 25-30 year olds that I call my ” work kids.”  

Jenny was one of those “kids,” arriving in L.A. from Michigan, eager to get started, a whirlwind of a girl, full of energy and spunk, and fun to have around.  After several years of searching for the right guy, Jenny was fortunate enough to meet Sean and joined him in Ohio.

What do you do when you miss someone?  Some people look at photos, others are good at reaching out, I cook something that reminds me of the person.  Eggplant Parmesan was Jenny’s signature dish.  By the way, the good thing about revolving doors is that they have no beginning and no end.

 

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Jenny’s Eggplant Parmesan
2 Globe Eggplants
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups of Italian bread crumbs
3 eggs, or more as needed
salt and pepper
3/4 cup shredded Parmesan
3 cups shredded mozzarella 
2 – 26 oz. jars of Marinara sauce or whatever sauce you prefer. Jenny likes 3 Cheese Tomato Sauce
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Slice eggplants about 1/2 inch thick.  Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.  Make an assembly line with three pie plates, one with flour, one with beaten eggs, and the last with bread crumbs seasoned with salt and pepper.  Lightly dredge each slice of eggplant in flour, dip in egg, and then in seasoned bread crumbs.  Lay coated slices of eggplant on cookie sheets and  bake for about 20 minutes.  Eggplant slices should be tender and golden when done.  Grease a baking dish with olive oil.  Spoon enough sauce to just cover the bottom of the pan and layer with eggplant, sauce,  sprinkling of Parmesan and then mozzarella.  Keep layering till you finish with mozzarella cheese on top.  Add more cheese as needed.  Bake for another 20 minutes or so until cheese is golden brown and bubbling.  Serves 6
Enjoy,
Irene

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

photo-7The trip was special in that it began with my daughter-in-law’s graduation from medical school and ended with a wedding of close family friends.  In between it went something like this.

I took a class in Tai Chi while visiting a friend in New Jersey, and it was all about balance and the ability to shift your weight from one foot to the other while still in motion, and without effort.  For almost three weeks I traveled around the East Coast and each day brought a change in scenery and tempo.  Five states, four museums, historic sites and centers, cities and countryside.  I stayed in seven different places during my trip and enjoyed each one.  Some days were filled with activity and celebrations of one kind or another, other days were quiet and peaceful.  Some days were devoted to cooking with old friends and family members, others were spent eating wonderful meals in restaurants, pubs, and inns.  I even managed to stop for lunch at one of my all time favorite “food” places, Reading Terminal.  With too  many memorable meals to mention, here are just a few.  A post-graduation lunch at Bar Boulud  where I ate a dish of homemade pasta with cippolini onions, spring peas, and cheddar.  Mother’s Day  (the day my brother-in-law’s newest grandson was born) was celebrated at Minetta Tavern.  I had Brandade,  a dish of salt cod cooked with potatoes and milk, mashed into a creamy purée.  There was crisp duck with a balsamic glaze at a kosher restaurant in Teaneck, smoked fish from Acme in Brooklyn, halibut with mango and avocado salsa in West Orange followed by a delicious cheesecake,  filet of flounder sautéed in panko crumbs in Philly followed by ripe cheeses and many glasses of wine, blintzes in Greenwich, and fish cakes with rémoulade sauce in Marshfield.

My cousins in Marshfield have a beautiful garden filled with flowers and vegetables.  One morning Janine picked some rhubarb, enough to make a pie or two, with no cookbook in hand and no recipe card on the counter.  It reminded me of the way my mother baked but this time I made sure to take notes.  It had been twenty-seven years or so since I last visited Marshfield and I left hoping that my next visit would come sooner.  Ready to get back to the fast pace of NYC, I first made sure that I took some home-grown rhubarb with me.  On our last Shabbat in NYC we enjoyed a vegetarian feast prepared for us by Heidi and Rob, friends of our children.  The meal ended with a strawberry rhubarb crisp that I made with Janine’s recipe and her rhubarb.

Then there was the wedding.  It was magical, set in the Hudson River Valley, not far from where I spent summers during my childhood.  Everything felt familiar, the air, the trees, the food, and the music.  We returned to Brooklyn in the early evening on Memorial Day and we celebrated with a BBQ in the park.  Norm and I were going home early the next morning and as I prepared to shift once again, I found that it was not without effort.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp
4 large stalks rhubarb, thinly sliced

1 quart strawberries, cut in half or quartered, depending on size

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 Tb tapioca

1/2 cup sour cream

1 egg, beaten

1 tsp vanilla

Mix all ingredients and put in the bottom of either two greased 8″ round pie plates,  or one large greased 8 x 10 pan.

Topping

3/4 cup brown sugar

1 cup flour

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 cup butter, room temperature

Mix ingredients together with your finger tips until you get small crumbs.  Sprinkle over fruit and bake at 375 till golden and bubbly, about 30 minutes.  Can serve 2 or 6, just depends.

Enjoy,

Irene

Corn and Poblano Lasagne

My father had a standard response to a certain type of question, and that response was “only the best.”  That’s a tall order, and of course the idea of what’s best is very subjective.  The statement taught me not to settle for mediocrity.   At work I meet with families and often tell them to manage their expectations when it comes to their mentors, not because of the quality of the volunteers, but because I don’t want anyone disappointed.  Still even as I utter those words, I know I am not being true to myself or my father’s words.

When my father first arrived in NYC, he worked as a tailor for Davidow Suits. a women’s suit company whose ads I remember seeing in Vogue Magazine when I was a teen.  After coming home from a long day he would have dinner and head to night school to learn English.  Years later he decided to follow his passion and become a Stock Broker, not an easy thing for a man in his 40s who had to pass the grueling exam in English, by then his fourth language.  He studied night after night and when he passed away I found all the exams, almost perfect scores on each one.  It didn’t surprise me.

Shavuot is  holiday about relationships.  It is also the one holiday where dairy reigns.  One of my favorite cooking shows is called  “The Best Thing I Ever Made.”  The program features various chefs who talk about that one dish that they make at home for their loved ones and closest friends, the people who you want to serve your best.  Last week a female Mexican chef featured a lasagna that she makes with a Mexican twist.  The best of two great culinary worlds come together in perfect harmony.

May your relationships, your holiday, and your food come from the desire for it to be the best, even if it isn’t always achievable.  Chag Saneach.

 

 

 

Corn and Poblano Lasagna adapted from Marcela Valladolid

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 cups fresh corn kernels (from about 2 ears)

2 cups heavy cream

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

4 Poblano chiles, charred, peeled, seeded and cut into 1-inch strips

2 large zucchini, thinly sliced lengthwise

Twelve no-boil lasagna sheets

2 cups shredded Monterey Jack

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a saucepan over medium heat.  Add two cloves of minced garlic and the corn and sauté for 5 minutes.  Stir in the cream.  Cook over low heat for 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and let cool, and purée until smooth.

Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons butter in a small, heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the remaining garlic clove along with the Poblano and zucchini and cook for 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Spread about one-quarter of the corn mixture over the bottom of an 9 x 12 inch baking dish. Cover with a layer of 3 lasagna sheets. Spread 1/4 of the vegetable mixture and 1/4 of the cheese over the pasta.  Repeat the layering three more times. Cover with foil.

Bake covered for about 50 minutes. Remove the foil and turn up the oven temperature to brown, about 8 to 10 minutes.  Serves 6-8

Enjoy,

Irene

Curried Swiss Chard and Lentil Stew

The Graf brothers all loved nature, the outdoors, and animals.  My father would watch shows about the animal kingdom and would tell us stories of the pets he owned growing up in Warka, Poland.  A porcupine, really?  He was already well into his seventies when he suddenly decided to stop eating chicken and beef, purely for ethical reasons.  With longing and affection, my father would talk about the orchard and vegetable garden behind his mother’s home.  At the farmer’s market he would choose his fruits and vegetables with such care and tenderness, rotating each apple or pear to make sure it was blemish free, fresh, firm, and fragrant with ripeness, intent on selecting the best he could find.

The brothers were all avid gardeners, and I was fairly certain that their green thumbs were not passed down to my city hands.  I love the idea of gardening, to be able to go into your backyard and plan your meal based on what’s ready to be picked.  After a long hiatus, I was determined to try my hand at vegetable gardening once again and so I ruthlessly pulled out a whole bed of roses.  It took months to prepare the soil and put in the first raised bed.  During a trip back East my cousin Janine laid out the plans for my garden and I use it as my roadmap.  Not only does it guide me but it provides me with inspiration,  knowing that another branch of the Graf family are successful gardeners.  My first planting included broccoli which was a complete failure, basil which was immediately consumed by insects and several plants of red leaf lettuce which grew well, but became limp immediately after being harvested, not a desirable texture for a fresh salad.  I thought I would try kale and swiss chard and finally I was able to experience the sense of pride that comes with success.  There is more chard and kale in my garden than I know what to do with.

My father would probably chuckle at my meager garden but despite its small size, the pleasure that I derive from it is immeasurable.  My father and I never gardened together, I was too young and independent to listen to his advice when he offered it, but now each time I am in the garden I think of Harry, Charlie and Jack, and the legacy they left behind.

 

 


This dish is a vegetarian stew but so hearty that you really don’t miss the meat. Serve with rice or whole wheat pasta.

Curried Swiss Chard and Lentil Stew (adapted from a recipe from Bon Appetit)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, thinly sliced
5 tsp curry powder
1 /2 tsp chili powder
42 oz. pareve chicken stock or vegetable broth
1 large bunch Swiss chard, stems thinly sliced and leaves coarsely chopped (about 12 cups)
1 pound brown lentils, rinsed well
1 15-ounce can garbanzo beans
2 tsp salt
1 heaping tsp cumin.

Saute onion in olive oil till golden.  Add spices and sauté for several minutes, till fragrant.  Add broth and bring to a boil, then put in lentils and garbanzo beans.  Lower heat to a simmer, add salt and chard, and cover.  Cook till lentils are tender but still whole.  About 20 minutes.  Serves 6

Enjoy,

Irene

Marizon’s Steamed Persimmon Pudding

My sister remembered this story from her childhood and e-mailed it to me.

“I had a job after school helping an elderly man with his errands. I would take his laundry to the cleaners on the corner.  I bought him the evening paper and sometimes I would pick up two slices of pizza for his dinner and in return he would always give me a dime or a quarter.  He once asked me what was the one thing I really wanted.  I told him I wanted a bicycle like the other kids on my block but explained that my parents said it was too expensive.  One day I came home and there in the hallway was the most beautiful blue Schwinn bicycle I ever saw.  I have never forgotten how generous and kind that wonderful old man was.”

We have a friend from synagogue, Marizon.  Over the past few years she has made us numerous Steamed Persimmon Puddings.  Sometimes she brings them to Shul, sometimes she delivers them to our house, but either way we are always surprised and delighted.  That kind of giving makes everyone happy so if  you do make this recipe just remember to double it so you can share.  It will taste even better that way.

Marizon’s Steamed Persimmon Pudding
 1  1/ 2 cups pureed persimmons ( 4 – 5  Fuyu persimmons, skins and pit removed , or you can use 2-3 ripe Hachiya persimmons)
2 Tsp. Baking soda
1 stick butter or pareve margarine at room temperature
1 1/2 Cups sugar
2 Eggs
1 Tb lemon juice
2 Tb  Rum
1 Cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp. cinnamon (Optional –  enhance with a bit of allspice and a whisper of ground clove) I only use Cinnamon
½ tsp. Salt
1 Cup broken walnuts or pecans
1 Cup raisins (may use golden or black or mix of both)

Find a pot that is large enough to hold a 2 Quart pudding mold.  Fill the pot with enough water to reach halfway up the sides of the mold as it rests on a metal rack in the bottom of the pot.  The mold must have a lid.   Let the water come to a boil while you mix the pudding batter.

(Pudding mold is available at William Sonoma or Sur La Table).

Grease the mold well.  Butter is best, though cooking spray is faster. Use pareve margarine if making a non-dairy pudding.

Put the persimmon purée in a bowl and stir in the baking soda.  Set aside (the persimmon mixture will stiffen and lighten in color – it really is a rather odd fact of chemistry)

Using a standing mixer, cream the butter and sugar.  Add the eggs, lemon juice, and rum and beat well.  Set the mixer to its slowest speed and add the flour, cinnamon, and salt.  When well blended, add the persimmon mixture and beat until well mixed.  Remove bowl from mixer and stir in raisins and nuts.

Spoon the batter into the mold, cover, and steam for at least two hours (it’s nearly impossible to over-steam!).  Remove from the pot, and let rest for 10 – 20 minutes.

Use a long, narrow skewer to help remove the pudding from the sides of the mold, and then turn out onto the serving plate.  Some parts may stick to the bottom of the mold – just remove them and patch back together (the pudding is very moist).

I usually turn the mold over and the pudding just falls onto the serving plate.

Presentation
The traditional service for this dish is with a sprig of holly stuck into the top, then flamed with more of the rum.  To flame your rum, pour a generous ounce into a sauce pot, and THEN put the pot over medium heat.  Swirl the rum to warm it for thirty seconds or so, then carefully light it and immediately pour the flaming rum over the pudding.  It may be difficult to see the flame in strong light, so dim the lights for the 20 seconds or so before the alcohol burns off.

Serve warm with unsweetened whipped cream, or a crème anglaise.

Enjoy,

Irene

Judy’s Salmon with Creamy Dill Sauce

I had forgotten how beautiful Spring is on the East Coast.  Tulips and Daffodils are everywhere, poking their heads through even the most unwelcoming strips of land, and Golden Forsythia, White Dogwood, and Pink Redbud are all in full bloom.  After having spent hours in the kitchen preparing for Seder, the next day was sunny and warm and we were able to eat lunch outside.  I even managed to fall asleep on the grass, something I had not done in years.  Weather and family aside, we had the pleasure of sharing the holidays with the offspring of our children’s contemporaries.  There were three couples with babies under the age of one, the mothers women who I knew long before they were contemplating motherhood.  One of the babies spent all of Yontif  with us, Raviv, who everyone wanted to hold, each of us vying for his attention and affection.  There was no question that this Passover was different, and Zis, just as we had hoped.

In between the cooking and eating, there were several times when something brought me back to my childhood.  Today as I was walking down the streets of Williamsburg, I suddenly heard people speaking both Yiddish and Polish.  And this afternoon as I sat down to eat my lunch on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I realized that I packed the very same lunch that my mother used to make me, matzoh and salami (my mother’s favorite) a Dr. Brown’s Cream soda and a Passover Rainbow Cookie ( the ones with the almond flavoring and raspberry jam separating the yellow, green, and red layers of cake covered in dark chocolate.)  I thought about the fact that all my daughter wanted for lunch was my friend Judy’s Salmon, and so we prepared it last night.  Maybe she was reminiscing as well.  I hope that your last days of Yontif are filled with good food and the time to reminisce.

Judy’s Salmon with Creamy Dill Sauce
I  2-3 lb. salmon fillet
1 stick of butter  (melted)
1 cup mayonnaise
1 Tbsp Honey
1 Tbsp White Vinegar
1 tsp Dill (dried)
1 Tbsp Lemon Juice
Salt and Pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Melt the butter and allow to cool.  Mix with the other ingredients and add salt and pepper to taste.  Place the salmon fillet on parchment paper.  Spread about half of the sauce mixture on the salmon.  Place in oven for about 20 minutes, checking the thickest part to test if done.  Top of fish will be lightly browned.  Serve fish either hot or at room temperature with the rest of the sauce.  Serves 4-6
Enjoy,
Irene

Hearty Vegetarian Lasagna

When the boys were little, they used to drag chairs into their bedroom, grab sheets from the linen closet, flashlights from the drawers, and spend hours building forts.  They loved creating something out of nothing and the only limitations were the size of their room and the breadth of their imagination.  Each time they did this the configuration of the fort was just a little different but the basics were the same.  Just like our Sukkah.  The size is determined by the space available and the rest is up to us.  In truth building a Sukkah is not so different than building those forts.  Shortly after Rosh Hashana, Norm orders the Schah, (in Los Angeles we use Palm fronds) and then starts pulling the lumber out of the garage.  A few days later the frame goes up but it doesn’t really look like  anything much at this point.  (If anything it looks like he is planning to build a fort)  Then the lights and a few decorations go up.  That lasts about a week, and finally when the schah is delivered and thrown over the top of the frame, the Sukkah takes on a life of its own.

This year my brother-in-law Jeff will be joining us in our Sukkah for the very first time.  Just like when the kids invited a friend to come play in the fort, a guest gives you an opportunity to show off your handiwork.  For years I have encouraged Norm to buy a Sukkah Kit, or have the patio roof re-done so that all he would have to do is add the walls, in other words to find a way of building a Sukkah that would take less effort.  That will never happen because then he wouldn’t be able to tell Jeff, or any other guest, that “he built it all by himself.”  There is something about boys and their forts.  Chag Sameach.

 

 

This is a vegetarian version of Joy Behar’s lasagna as seen on The Chew.  The soy crumbles and soy Italian sausages worked perfectly.

Hearty Vegetarian Lasagna

2 tbsp olive oil

1 small onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 1/2 lb soy Italian Sausages, cut into 1/2″ slices

8 oz. soy crumbles

1-28 oz. can crushed tomatoes

1- 6 oz. can tomato paste

1/2 cup basil leaves slicked into slivers

2 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp pepper

1 tsp oregano

1/2 box lasagna noodles

1 lb. whole milk ricotta

1 cup grated parmesan

1 extra-large egg

1 lb. whole milk fresh mozzarella

1/4 cup parmesan for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Soak noodles in a casserole dish filled with hot tap water.  Heat olive oil in large pan, add chopped onions and sauté for about 5 minutes.  Add minced garlic and sauté for another minute.  Add soy crumbles and Italian sausage and cook for about 10 minutes.  Then add tomatoes, tomato paste, oregano and basil.  Simmer on low, while preparing filling, for about 10 minutes.

In a bowl mix ricotta with beaten egg and 1 cup parmesan.  Season with salt and pepper.  Take a 9 x 12 baking dish and pour 1/3 of the sauce on the bottom.  Then cover sauce with half of the soaked noodles.  Cover noodles with 1/3 sauce, 1/2 of the sliced mozzarella and half the ricotta mixture.  Add second layer of noodles, and repeat. Sprinkle with additional 1/4 cup parmesan.  Bake uncovered for 30 minutes.  Serves 6-8

Enjoy,

Irene