I’ve said it in the past, and I will say it again; mayonnaise is the bane of my existence. It’s this mushy, gooey, blubbery, mass of disgusting. I know that there is something incredibly un-American about despising mayo, but what can I do—I honestly cannot tolerate it.

My grudge against mayonnaise convinced me that I hated tuna fish for most of my life and has created a love/hate relationship with egg salad. You see, I love eggs, I love salad, but I really, really, hate mayonnaise. There’s even something slightly redundant about mixing mayonnaise with eggs being that mayonnaise is actually made out of egg yolks. What this really means is an egg salad sandwich is a cholesterol monster framed in bread.

I can’t be certain, but I’d wager that the first person to combine hard-boiled eggs with mayonnaise was most likely French. Yet, the first prepared mayonnaise was sold at a deli in New York: “Hellman’s Blue Ribbon Mayonnaise.” Most likely, just around the time they started putting mayonnaise in jars, they started mixing it with hard boiled eggs and serving it at that very deli, just like they’re serving it at kosher delis to this very day. Egg salad has been made by bubbes, synagogue spread committees, smorgasbord enthusiasts and kosher delis for generations; each one with their own perfect recipe for it.

I respect the classics, and I can understand that even if I don’t like them there’s most likely a reason that they’re considered classic. Crisp onions and dense egg flavors have always been a winning combination, and that’s why I didn’t forget them in this revamped version of traditional egg salad, but I wanted to give it a light and simple flavor. In order to do this, I replaced the fatty mayonnaise with some low fat ricotta cheese and a splash of refreshing lemon juice.

Keeping in mind the ease of creating a crowd-pleasing egg salad, this recipe is a simple but elegant frittata. This version is perfect for brunch too, and like the standard egg salad can be made ahead of time for convenience. As we all know, the best egg salads have bits of onion and perhaps a hint of some fresh herbs and seasoning. That’s why in this recipe you’ll see some fennel to give it a kick, and some fresh rosemary to deepen the flavor.

Not Your Bubbe’s Egg Salad Frittata
Serves 4

Ingredients:
1 Tbsp fresh rosemary (packed)
8 large eggs
1\4 cup of milk
Salt and pepper by taste
3 Tbsp lemon juice
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 large fennel, thinly sliced thinly
1\3 cup ricotta cheese

Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, milk, salt and pepper, and half the lemon juice.

3. Heat your olive oil in a medium sized oven-safe skillet over a medium high heat. Add your fennel slices and the rest of your lemon juice and sauté until they begin to become translucent. This should take less than 10 minutes. Then lower the heat under your skillet to medium low.

4. Slowly pour your egg mixture into the skillet while mixing them gently with the fennel slices. Let the eggs cook for 2 minutes.

5. Now add your ricotta cheese to your skillet by spreading it around evenly in teaspoon sized heaps.

6. Cook your eggs for another 2 minutes.

7. Place your frittata in the oven and cook for 11-15 minutes. The frittata is done when it looks as cooked as you like your omelets.

8. Slice your frittata into wedges and serve warm or at room temperature.

(Photo by the author)

Also try:

Not Your Bubbe’s Purim Poppy Seed Scones

Not Your Bubbe’s Caribbean Matzoh Ball Soup

Not Your Bubbe’s Tu B’Shevat Seder

The post Not Your Bubbe’s Recipe: Egg Salad Frittata appeared first on Jewcy.

Two weeks ago, somewhere in our nation’s capital, seven young Jewish men and seven young Jewish women got together for a Shabbat dinner. But it wasn’t just any dinner—it was the now infamous Craigslist Shabbat dinner, organized by seven very confident young Jews who took to the ultimate online personals section to find their besherts. We spoke with Elissa*, one of the seven lucky “chosen” female attendees, about her experience.

So, you’re a chosen ‘chosen one’—mazel tov. How did you find the Craigslist ad? And why did you decide to apply?

I honestly thought the entire thing was a joke. I’m fairly incompetent using the Internet (I just found out that there were articles written about this before it happened), and when my former college roommate posted this on my Facebook wall, I thought, ‘How ridiculous.’ He (ah, liberal arts education) and I decided to apply purely out of curiosity and because we thought it would be hilarious. Never did I ever think this would actually take place, that I would be invited to join, or that I would go. I’ve never met anybody on the Internet (I meet enough creeps in real life), I’ve never been on a blind date, and I’ve never dated an American Jew. So this was way out of my comfort zone.

How long did you spend on your application? Did you take it seriously or just fire something off?

It probably took me longer to read the posting than to write a response. My ‘application’ began with “Dear circumcised gentlemen” and ended with “Pick me and make my bubbe kvell.” I used Maimonides and Zach Braff in the same sentence and told them they better not be schmucks. They asked for a picture so I sent one of me at a prayerbook vending machine in Jerusalem. 

How did you find out you were selected?

A few days later, I got the ‘acceptance’ email:

Following strip bingo night with the local Hadassah chapter, we carefully reviewed your application, engaged in Talmudic discussion over the merits of your presence at our Shabbat dinner table, and Googled the hell out of you.

On behalf of Seven White Single Jewish Males, I’d like to stomp on a glass and wish you a Mazel Tov! You are officially one of the seven chosen people.

The challah is practically in the oven, the gefilte fish are swimming about, the Manischewitz is on ice, and you’ll want to give up your birthright for this lentil soup. We just need to know by noon tomorrow, how much herring to cover in wine sauce.

Also, if you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions, please let us know too. For the sake of inclusion, all food will be kosher.

We also trust that you will use your discretion, and keep this in the family (of 14).

This invitation is non-transferrable, unless you are transferring it to Bar Refaeli or Elena Kagan.

David Ben Gurion

Clearly, I’m not keeping this in ‘the family’ (that’s how Jewish genetic diseases started, after all), but this whole experience was too absurd not to share.

So how did the actual event go down?

I love a good story and routinely get myself into strange predicaments, but I truly didn’t know how to handle this and was debating whether or not I should go. It started to get even more surreal as the plans were being made. The guys were extremely vague and secretive in their communication with us. They continued using the alias David Ben Gurion and waited until the last minute to provide us with an address (they were contacted by several media sources and were understandably worried about guests showing up to the dinner unwelcome), and I started to get freaked out.
 
I demanded that they meet me in a public place first (it turned out that I was the only one with this requirement), and established a “safe word” with a friend who, if I called or texted, would either come to my rescue or notify the authorities. Not to be outdone, the father of one of the chosen Jewesses even hired a bodyguard to be on call a few blocks from our location. I was still extremely anxious (it’s part of my heritage, okay?), although the guys did their best to quell my fears before the event. Their mothers clearly raised them right.
 
The dinner took place at a very nice apartment, and at first we just sat around having drinks and discussing the absurdity of the situation. Our hosts admitted they sifted through hundreds of responses to the ad—one enthusiastic woman offered to fly in from the Midwest and a group of “Protestant Princesses” even reached out to them. It was kind of a hilarious ego boost, except that I learned just how much they gleaned from a simple Google search of my name. Excuse me while I reconsider my relationship with the Internet.

According to the ad, the group of male hosts included five good-looking guys and two ugly guys. Was that true?

Well, disappointingly, there were only five guys there—two of them ended up not being able to make it—and six of us Jewesses (one bailed at the last minute). We joked that it was the ugly guys who had dropped out. One particular guy and I had our differences: he made a joke early on about it being good that we had all met on “Craigslist and not Schindler’s list,” to which I responded, “Too soon.” From that moment on, he seemed to openly dislike me. Oh well.
 
The quality of the company overall ended up being quite enjoyable, though, and I think that’s what counts the most. No one was remarkably schlubby or nebbishy, though the fresh babka was the biggest turn-on for me. Yum.
 
Tell us a little about the dinner. How was the food? How were the other chosen ladies?
 
The dinner itself was surprisingly comfortable. The guys cooked and served a delightful multi-course meal, the wine was flowing, and the people were funny and interesting. I was honestly shocked. I don’t have many Jewish friends and am not yet part of a Jewish community here in D.C., so it was refreshing to be around people with shared backgrounds and experiences.
 
And the other girls were lovely. We all engaged each other and it never felt like one of those catty reality shows where the women are competing for the men or vice-versa. Having gone into this half-expecting to be murdered by a serial killer (and yet I went, sigh) or be so bored that I’d try to gouge my eyeballs out with a Shabbat candle, I was pleasantly surprised. It’s not often that a bunch of guys cook, clean, and entertain a group of ladies completely of their own accord. Note to gentlemen everywhere: this should be done more often.
 
The evening was so “normal” in fact, that during dessert we joked that we needed to do something to spice it up, like perform an impromptu brit milah at the dinner table.

So, did you hit it off with any of the guys? Was your beshert at the dinner?

The dinner ended up lasting more than five hours, at which point us Jewesses all left together (we’re all still in touch and actually got another dinner party invitation—so, to be continued!). Interestingly, no phone numbers were exchanged across the genders at the actual event, though three of the girls were later contacted by three guys and are seeing each other again. Yentl the matchmaker would be so proud!
 
Personally, I did not find my beshert that night (and later met up with a French goy I’ve been casually dating…oops. My mother would be so disappointed). While I met some great people, my first foray into Jewish dating didn’t end up successful in the traditional sense. I guess it’s back to the land of the uncircumcised for me for now. Oy.
 
That weekend (after Shabbos ended, of course), I sent the guys an email thanking them for not being serial killers and for hosting a lovely evening, and they sent the chosen few a “shaynem dank” email:

Thank you for indulging our Shabbat fantasies. It was the ultimate double mitzvah. We had a great time hosting you, and may these experiences be fruitful and multiply. Never forget.

*Last name omitted so her mother never finds out.

(image via Shutterstock)

The post Tales From the Craigslist Shabbat Dinner appeared first on Jewcy.

For many families, eating honey cake is a Rosh Hashanah staple, but in my family it wasn’t eaten so much as ignored. I never cared for this particular baked good. I find it heavy and cloyingly sweet. It was a cake I associated with grandparents and shul kiddush leftovers—always left untouched as the crowd thinned and people headed home for lunch. But wherever I went on Rosh Hashanah, people would insist on making and serving this cake because its star ingredient, its namesake, is practically the symbol for Rosh Hashanah. After all, how can you say “l’shana tovah u mitukah”—“to a good and sweet new year”—without honey?

The honey cake originated in Germany around 1320 and was called lekach, coming from the German word for “lick.” Honey was often used as a treat to encourage and entice young yeshiva students in their studies. Early Ashkenazi Jews even made a ceremony out of it with the Aleph-Bazyn: honey was spread on slates containing the Hebrew alphabet and as the young students licked off the honey, the idea was that they were reminded of the sweetness the Torah held. At the end of the ceremony, honey cakes along with other sweets were distributed.

Before the days of refrigeration and plastic cake-savers, honey was also an extremely popular ingredient in cooking and baking because it acted as a preservative and was supposed to ensure a moist cake. Unfortunately, this aspect of the cake—the densely sweet cake that seems to last forever—is not so enticing. To compensate for that, I’ve come up with a version that lightens things up by incorporating the traditional flavor of the honey cake into a chiffon cake, which is leavened by both chemical leaveners and beaten egg whites. The result is a moist, yet light, cake.

To heighten the taste, I paired the cake with a pomegranate glaze, which offers a tangy and fruity counterpoint to the sweetness. Pomegranates are also a traditional Rosh Hashana food because their many seeds are said to number 613, the same as the number of mitzvot found in the Torah. Many people eat them in order to usher in a year filled with good deeds—I eat them because of their deliciously tart seeds that burst with flavor. Sprinkling fresh seeds on top of the glazed cake adds a wonderful texture as well as flavor to the cake.

Unlike its earlier iterations, this honey cake—with its light texture, ruby red glaze, and crunchy pomegranate topping—shouldn’t be ignored. If nothing else, it will help usher in a year filled with scrumptious cakes and tastier shul kiddushes.

Not Your Bubbe’s Honey Cake
8-10 Servings

Ingredients:

Cake:
1 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
pinch of salt
5 eggs, separated
1/2 cup honey
1/4 cup dark brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
3 tbsp honey-flavored tea (honey chamomile, or honey lemon are also fine), cooled
Zest of half a lemon

Glaze:
2 cups unsweetened pomegranate juice
1/4 cup sugar
2 tbsp orange juice
3 tsp corn starch
Pomegranate seeds for decoration

Special Equipment:

9-inch tube pan or Bundt pan

Directions:

1. Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees and grease the pan well.

2. To make the cake, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

3. In a separate bowl, combine the egg yolks and both sugars, mixing well.

4. Add the oil, honey, tea, and lemon zest to the egg yolk mixture.

5. Combine the honey mixture with the flour mixture and set aside.

6. In another bowl, beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks, being careful not to over beat them.

7. Add 1/3 of the whites into the flour and honey mixture and combine. Add the next third in carefully, folding the whites in until nearly combined. Add the last 1/3 of the whites, gently folding, being careful not to deflate them.

8. Pour into the prepared pan and put directly into the oven and bake for 40-45 minutes, or until the cake springs back when you touch it.

9. Let cool for 10 minutes, then invert the pan onto a cooling rack and let the cake finish cooling off inverted in the pan. When completely cool, carefully lift the pan to unmold. If you have any difficulty, run a thin knife around the edges of the pan to help the cake out.

10. While the cake is in the oven, make the Pomegranate Glaze. To make the syrup, combine the pomegranate juice sugar, orange juice, and cornstarch in a sauce pot.

11. Bring to a boil then reduce the heat and allow the mixture to simmer. Cook the mixture for about 20 minutes, until it thickens and reduces by half. If necessary, strain the mixture and then allow it to cool.

12. When both the cake and glaze are cool, pour the glaze over the cake and then sprinkle the fresh pomegranate seeds on top.

Also try:

Not Your Bubbe’s Kibbeh Agemono

Not Your Bubbe’s Borscht Salad

Not Your Bubbe’s Deconstructed Baba Ghanoush

The post Not Your Bubbe’s Recipe: Honey Chiffon Cake With Pomegranate Syrup appeared first on Jewcy.

Today in Tablet Magazine, 2010 Big Jewcy Rachel Shukert takes on the suspicion that might have (or might not have, who knows) been nagging you during the Olympics Opening Ceremony on Friday: has the Queen of England become the world’s bubbe?

Shukert opines:

Most 86-year-old women, whatever their ethnic persuasion, do not arrive at important events via helicopter parachute, escorted by a hot piece like Daniel Craig; many of them can’t even stand up in the shower anymore. But everything else, from the ongepotchket peach lace dress to the passive-aggressive “oy, mein back” shuffle to the seats to that face, seemingly caught constantly in mid-kvetch, saying “For this you made me come out in the middle of the night, sitting outside in the rain like a dog?” Not a trace of her former impersonal friendliness, of smiling Gentile stoicism, remained. At the Olympic opening ceremony, somewhere in between the coal miners performing a Dickensian rendition of the “Stool Boom” number from Waiting for Guffman and the interpretive dance salute to the National Health Service, Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, became the whole world’s bitchy Jewish bubbe.

Frankly, we see this as a wonderful development, since Jewish grandmothers are, in our opinion, just about the best thing ever. So welcome, Queen Elizabeth the Second, to team bubbe.

Related: Bubbe Elizabeth the Second [Tablet Magazine]

The post Has the Queen of England Become a Jewish Grandmother? appeared first on Jewcy.

As the name suggests, grandmothers were typically the bakers behind the babka. In the Encyclopedia of Jewish Food, Gil Marks writes that the dessert was most likely the result of extra challah dough that was cleverly turned into an additional treat by mid-19th-century Eastern European bubbes. And thank god for that! Somewhere between a bread and a cake, the sweet loaf-shaped delicacy can be eaten for breakfast, as a midday snack, or, more traditionally, as a dessert. On the off chance there are any leftovers, it’s also great for making French toast or bread pudding.

While originally stuffed with dried fruit and cinnamon, in the last half-century American Jews have immortalized chocolate babka as the premiere variety. (You may remember the Seinfeld episode when Elaine famously dubbed cinnamon the “lesser babka.”)

Even now, with babka something of a household name for Jewish and non-Jewish New Yorkers alike, if bubbe isn’t baking it, you’re probably not eating it. No longer available only in haimish bakeries, babka can be found in Zabars, Zaros, and even Bouchon Bakeries—though the recipe has, somewhat shockingly, remained the same.

Why make babka, available by the dozen at your neighborhood bakery, on your own? I could tell you to make one to be true to your roots, to honor your grandparents, or to finally use up that instant yeast packet in your cabinet. But the reason is simpler than that. There are few things in this world more delicious than fresh bread, straight out of the oven. One of those things just happens to be fresh bread straight out of the oven with melted chocolate and butter oozing out of it.

These “Trail Mix Babka Cupcakes” are a contemporary twist on the classic loaf, keeping with the latest in the cupcake-craze and portion controlled for the weight conscious among us. Simply pairing chocolate and cinnamon filling into one cupcake produces an original recipe while preserving the integrity of babka’s history. Bake a dozen and send a basket to your bubbe!

Not Your Bubbe’s Trail-Mix Babka Cupcakes
Yield: 14-16 Babka Cupcakes

Ingredients:
Dough
¾ cup milk or soy milk
¼ cup melted butter or margarine
2 teaspoons fast-acting dry yeast
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 ½ cups all purpose flour
1 ½ cups whole wheat flour
¼ cup + one teaspoon sugar
¼ cup water
1 egg
½ teaspoon salt

Trail-mix Filling
10 oz. chocolate chips
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup cold butter or margarine
1/3 cup chopped nuts (walnuts, peanuts, or almonds)
1/3 cup chopped dried fruit (raisins, craisins, apricots, or dried apple work well)

Streusel Topping (Optional)
1/3 cup confectioners sugar
1/3 cup all purpose flour
¼ cup butter or margarine
1 tablespoon milk or soymilk
Egg wash (one egg beaten with one tablespoon milk/soy milk)

Special Equipment
Stand mixer (recommended but not essential)
Rolling pin
Cupcake pans

Directions:
1. Melt butter or margarine in saucepan and stir in the milk.

2. Warm milk and melted butter slightly and add the yeast and the teaspoon of sugar, let sit for five minutes until the yeast blooms.

3. While waiting, combine the all purpose four, whole wheat flour, cinnamon, and sugar into the bowl of your stand mixer. Mix to combine.

4. Add the egg, water, yeast, and milk mixture and mix well. Using the dough hook (or your hands if you are not using a stand mixer) knead the dough for 15-20 minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic.

5. Cover the dough with a damp cloth and place in a warm place for 1 ½ hours for the dough to rise and double in size. In this time, you can make the filling and topping.

6. For the filling, mix together all ingredients except for the butter.

7. Rub, or cut, the butter into the mixture until it is relatively evenly dispersed and you have no clumps larger than the size of a cranberry.

8. For the streusel, combine all ingredients and, like the filling, cut the butter in until you get crumbs the size of pebbles.

9. Once risen, punch the dough down and reform it into a ball. Let sit, covered, for another 10 minutes.

10. To make the process more manageable, cut the dough into two equal portions.

11. Spray cupcake tin and preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Take one half of the dough and roll it into a large rectangle about 1/8 of an inch thick. Sprinkle half of the filling evenly over the rectangle, then cut the rectangle into smaller rectangles, roughly 2 inches wide and 4 inches long. Roll up the rectangles, maintaining the width, and seal the seam by pressing down on the dough. Coil the babka ropes into the cupcake pan. Repeat the process with the other half of the dough.

12. Once inside the cupcake tin, cover and let rise for a half hour. Brush with egg wash and sprinkle with streusel. Bake for 12-14 minutes. Once cool enough to touch pop them out and enjoy! They are best while still warm.

Also try: Not Your Bubbe’s Chicken Schnitzel

Sarah Miller is a graduate of the Pastry and Baking Arts program at the Institute of Culinary Education and is currently working at ABC Kitchen.

The post Not Your Bubbe’s Recipe: Chocolate and Cinnamon Babka Cupcakes appeared first on Jewcy.