#making soup to celebrate

[dragonflyxparodies]

I'M MAKING SOUP

also i finally got a goddamn adult job holy shit aaaaaaa

[hiseyeisonthesparrow]

This year I received exactly what every Mormon teenage girl wants for Christmas: a menorah in the shape of a stegosaurus, and dreidels with chocolate gelt.

And also socialism pins. Lots of socialism pins.

[roomwithanopenfire]

HAPPY SOUP DAY TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE

[insomaniacat]

what kind of cake should i make for yjh’s birthday

[dorfette]

Happy first day of fall!

[inusmasha]

Happy Halloween everyone!

[attila-werther]

I should. post something for valentines day. (squints at art folder) but definitely not any of that

[vampirepiss]

im like a year older now... eh.

at least i had hotpot that is good and great ^^

[darishima]

your ass is GOING IN THE DOG CAGE ‼️ wait whats the real word for it. ok puppy you are spending the rest of the night in the crate. and youre too wheezy and wobby to resist.

-🦴

NOOOO NOT THE CRATE AWRROOF WRUFF RFFH AWOOHHFFFH

[logicallyblind]

something there’s a distinct lack of in batman fanfics, especially ‘brucie wayne’ centred ones is the networking he’d have to be doing on the daily to maintain that sorta reputation

like, we all know the man knows how to throw a gala but where are the brunches? the happy hour gossip session with his cover’s clique of the week? the golf club dinners he has to attend every third week of the month? what about visits to hospitals or schools or the soup kitchens for his philanthropy? come on now

you’re telling me he’s the most sought after celebrity in gotham city and beyond, an infamous playboy and supposed extroverted people person who can use long holidays that can last weeks at a time away in tropical islands supposedly partying it up as a plausible excuse to hide his injuries sometimes but when he’s in gotham he’s either at wayne enterprise meetings or tucked away at home alone? nah

i want to see bruce having to really utilise those meditation breathing skills he learned in the league while he’s having to sit upright in a chair with 4 broken ribs, a sprained wrist and a minor concussion in a painfully bright restaurant at 3pm on a wednesday having to listen to bethany-anne titter on about the latest gossip about her neighbours affair with the maid that’s basically an open secret by now like pls there’s so many different routes you can go with this depending on the genre,,, make bruce have to REALLY commit to that cover of his lmao

[moriphyte]

november 16th is dsmp day in the same way april 13th is homestuck day except 4/13 is like getting drunk at a wedding 11/16 is like getting high at a funeral

[magz]

[ Original Twitter Thread by @/beelektra ] - Not by Magz, am not Palestinian

Palestinian Foods. (long post)

Quote:

"🧵 Thread of Palestinian desserts I've grown up around and seen A thing I'd like to add is that I just like to share my culture! I do not want to spread the narrative that our culture is dying, I only want people to see our foods and traditions 🇵🇸

"As mentioned in the last post, we have knafeh (or kunafa), a buttery dessert made with shredded pastry layers such as cheese and other ingredients like pistacho or cream!"

"Burbara; which comes from Saint Barbara, fun fact! It's a soup dessert that mainly consists of barley, licorice spices, anise, cinnamon, and fennel powder This is a dessert usually many Christian families have to celebrate Saint Barbara, which is December 4th!"

"Malban, which resembles a fruit jelly! Made from starch and sugar Specifically, it's made with grape molasses, thickened with starch and flavored with rose water, and stuffed with almonds (or other nuts including walnuts, treenuts, and peanuts)"

"Khabeesa is simply just a pudding made with grapes, but you prepare it by mixing the grape juice with semolina and nuts + seeds."

"Mtabbak or mtabba, a crispy dough stuffed with crushed walnuts. It also contains cinnamon, sugar, and syrup. Photo credits go to Bartek Kieżun on Instagram"

"Tamriyeh, a fried pastry filled with semolina pudding, scenter with mastic and orange blossom water, and topped off with powdered sugar"

"Ka'ak bi Tamer, which are date paste filled cookies with cinnamon! A dessert made for Eid-Alfitr. It's topped with nigella seeds, and the cinnamon-spiced date paste is the most important part of it all– you can eat it on its own or have it with coffee"

"+ Ka'ak Asawer, another dessert that can be prepared for Eid-Alfitr. It's translated to bracelet cookies, and they use date paste, flour, anise seeds, sugar, ground cinnamon, and olive oil"

"Muhallebi or mahalabia, a milk pudding that's made with sugar, corn starch, and fragrant flavorings! It's topped off with nuts, pistachos, and almonds and sprinkled with ground cinnamon or shredded coconut"

"Rice pudding, which is a common dessert in Palestine, and it's your choice to top it off with nuts or not"

"Stuffed dates, using medjool dates and cracking them open to be stuffed with goat cheese and pistachios– but you're free to add anything else"

"Ma'amoul, a buttery crisp cookie primarily made of farina and can be stuffed with (spiced) dates, walnuts, or pistachios. This is another Christian dessert made by Palestinian mothers during the week of Easter Sunday."

"Halawit Smid, a farina based dessert with added sugar and unsalted cheese. It's preferably served fresh"

"Namoura cake, aka harissa dessert! It's made with semolina or farina flour, and then topped off with syrup once baked"

"Qatayef, which is eaten during the month of Ramadan. It's made of farina, flour, water, and yeast blended together– the process is pretty similiar to making pancakes, but only one side is cooked"

"Since I've mentioned using zaatar for a lot of things, I recently just discovered this but– there's also things such as zaatar cookies!! It's just as implied that the cookies are filled with zaatar, I'd be so willing to make this on my own"

"Baklava, made from phyllo pastry dough, butter, nuts, basil, and a sweet honey syrup"

"Aish el saraya, arabic version of a bread pudding. It's basically a layered bread, where it starts from the bottom, then covered with a sweet syrup, cream, and crumbled pistachios."

"Awwami, it's defined as "crisp donut ball" in English. It's a deep fried dough ball coated with sesame seeds, and dipped in cold syrup water."

"Halawet el Jibn, a sweet cheese dessert rolled with custard, heavy cream, drizzled rose water + syrup, and garnished with nuts."

"Lastly, I'd like to add watermelon and cheese– for me, it's like,,,, bittersweet!!! You should totally try it and we also have this during Ramadan"

"Well, that's all I can think of for Palestinian desserts! Here's the first part for general foods, I know I did make a promise for part two

I hope you guys liked this thread, and if you have any opinions please feel free to quote tweet anything on here if I made a mistake, feel free to correct me, it's always appreciated P.S if you're a zionist commenting here I really don't care, just scroll, I'm sharing my culture

One LAST thing. if you want any of the recipes from here, check out this website, the creator (Wafa) shares so many wonderful traditional Palestinian dishes."

[End Quote]

[burnmyloveaway]

Fall in less than 12 hours 🪵🍂🍁🧡

[illwilledomen]

Minecraft food pt. 1

These foods are traditionally eaten in plains villages. Small game like chicken and rabbit, as well as fish, are eaten throughout the year, while beef, pork and lamb is usually reserved for special occasions. This is both for availability and theological reasons. More below 👇

Mushroom picking is a job usually given to teenagers and nitwits. Bread is considered an aphrodisiac to villagers, and it is often given as a wedding proposal (alongside cheese and meat). Sweet berries are often dried to add sweetness and tang to soups, stews and pottage, as well as making a fine snack on their own.

Plains stew, or rabbit stew, is a dish common in plains villages, with slight variations in each settlement. Generally, it contains rabbit or chicken, with mushrooms, potatoes and carrots. The broth is usually rich and thickened with breadcrumbs or oats, and tartness is added either via wine or sweet berries. Some villages add beetroot or diced apple, others add dough dumplings or cut up grassland slimes, which are cleaned and deveined, and serve as a natural thickener as well as a source of protein. Their rubbery texture and fishy flavor may be disagreeable to passing traders, and it is a point of contention as to what the “true” plains stew recipe is.

Carrots, potatoes, beetroot (not pictured) and apples are staples for plains villagers. In times of destitution potatoes are crucial for keeping people fed. When “clearing land” for imperial expansion, Illagers poison the potato crops of smaller villages so they will not waste resources on raiding them.

Cake, or sweetcake, is eaten during times of celebration, like at weddings or markets. It resembles a pound cake, with a sugar glaze and decorated with fruits, like sweetberries, glow berries and apple. A slice is traditionally eaten with a glass of hot milk as a “purifier” for the days indulgences.

[peachylynnie]

gift exchange

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in which you get sick on christmas, and sylus is there to make it better.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (not dating but sylus is down bad), christmas themes, a singular reference to his myth, a singular reference to grassland romance, mentions and consumption of food, suggestive themes, cursing, angst, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick. again. on christmas too. you know what that means. sylus time! on a related note, i hope everyone had a wonderful christmas. my rafayel fic is gonna upload soon as well. enjoy! reblogs and comments always welcome! do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism.

you curse as you rip open a hot chocolate packet. "sick on christmas," you grumble as you pour the contents into a mug. "how the fuck is that even possible."

of course, anyone can get sick at any time. it's inevitable. but, seriously? of all the days the pain in your throat and ears could have appeared, it just HAD to be on fucking christmas day. sure, it's not like you had any plans. normally you would celebrate with grandma and caleb by feasting on countless dishes and singing christmas songs from an old karaoke machine caleb swears isn't broken. but they're not around anymore.

you sigh miserably as you trudge over to the water dispenser for hot water, not wanting to think about your lost family. as you press the button for hot water, you lean against the dispenser, trying to figure out what you're going to do for the rest of the day. you were planning on visiting the market to make a nice dinner or perhaps order takeout at your favorite restaurant. but those are no longer viable options since your throat is killing you and your ears are incessantly burning. maybe you can order delivery? but that means you're going to have to clean up afterward, and you did NOT want to clean anything at the moment, especially with the state you're in.

shaking your head, you bring your mug back to the kitchen counter and search for a spoon.

"water for hot chocolate? i'm disappointed, sweetie."

you jump, an "oh, fuck!" leaving your mouth. sylus had materialized in front of you, a plastic bag in his left hand and a present box in his right. not like you noticed though. you were too startled by his sudden appearance. "what the fuck, sylus?! can't you knock?!"

"no," he deadpans, placing the bag and box on the kitchen counter. his fingers make quick work of untying the double knot on the bag. "besides," he spares you a glance. "i don't think someone who uses water to make their hot chocolate deserves a knock."

you roll your eyes. of course he fixates on that and doesn't explain why he's in your crappy apartment slandering you instead of downing at LEAST three glasses of wine in his luxurious penthouse on christmas day too. "well, screw me for being lazy, i guess," you mumble, crossing your arms.

"don't tempt me."

"huh?"

"what?"

you shoot him a look before grabbing your mug and heading to the other side of the kitchen counter. sitting on your squeaky high chair, you ask, "why are you here, sylus?"

he takes out a styrofoam container and opens its lid. immediately, the comforting smell of miso greets you. as sylus opens a cabinet to retrieve a pot (you don't question how he knows where to find it), you try to look at what else is in the plastic bag. tilting your upper body, you notice another container and hope it has some rice inside. what you don't notice is sylus' breath hitching when he turns back to you after pouring the miso soup into the pot and turning on the stove.

you were wearing a nice, loose top in your favorite color. except, its neck portion was completely cut off, leaving your collarbone and shoulders deliciously exposed. and because you were leaning on your side to take a look at what he had brought you (he loves when you're curious about anything involving him), the sleeve was slowly yet surely sliding down your arm, threatening to show a cup of your bra.

sylus instantly turns back to the stove, even though the miso soup shows no signs of boiling. rubbing a hand over his face, he shakes his head. no, he's not here to ogle at you (the top looks really good on you, and fuck, did your bra cup your breasts really nicely). he's here to take care of you. earlier, mephisto alerted him you were taking some cough drops. and knowing you, you probably didn't have any food on hand to sustain you through your sickness, given his last (secret) visit to your apartment to stock your (empty) fridge. taking a deep breath, sylus returns to the kitchen counter, reaching for the other container. he notices your inquisitive eyes.

"i'm here because it's christmas." he opens the container, and to your delight, it's omurice. marveling at how fluffy the omelette looks and how savory the fried rice appears, you almost miss his answer.

"huh?" you frown. "you're here because it's christmas?"

"is that not what i just said?" sylus jests as he plates the omurice and places it in your microwave.

"well," you start carefully. "shouldn't you have better things to do? like take luke and kieran shopping or pop open another bottle of wine because woo! christmas!"

the silver-haired man shakes his head with a chuckle, propping his hands on the kitchen counter. you try not to focus on his exposed forearms too much. forget the omurice and miso soup; you'll take his arms instead.

"first of all, luke and kieran are busy—"

"on christmas?!"

"yes, sweetie, on christmas." he raises a brow at you for interrupting. you drag your sleeve back up sheepishly.

"second of all, what makes you think i haven't already indulged in a bottle of wine today?" he tilts his head and crosses his arms, gazing at you with a hint of amusement in his ruby eyes.

you pout and look away. "fair point, i guess."

enjoying your cute reaction, sylus returns his attention to the stove. pleased to find the miso soup boiling, he turns off the stove and takes out a bowl from your cabinet (again, how does he know where to find that?). using a ladle to pour into the bowl, he hums a little tune. you try not to snicker at how terrible he sounds. after sliding a bowl of soup and a plate of omurice to you, sylus plants his elbows on the counter and rests his chin on a palm, allowing him a perfect view of his beloved (though you don't know you're his beloved yet; luke and kieran called him a loser before getting their asses handed to them).

"uh," you look at sylus, then at the food, and then sylus again. "you're not going to eat?"

he shakes his head. "i already ate before coming here."

hesitantly, you pick up your utensils. "you know you technically haven't answered my question, right?"

"i'll tell you once you finish." sylus responds immediately. it's almost as if he knew what you were going to say.

no longer wanting to torture your stomach, you cut into the omurice and take a bite. "mmm!" you cover your mouth as you chew. the softness of the egg, the savoriness of the fried rice—oh, you're in heaven. "this tastes really good, sylus!" you take a sip of the miso soup as well. not only does the warm broth soothe your throat, but the spice that comes with it clears up your sinuses, ceasing the burn in your ears.

the man in front of you can't help but smile at the sight. you, in your most vulnerable, beautiful state, enjoying his cooking. he could die a happy man here. and it wouldn't be the first time his cause of death is you. not that he minds or anything.

"thank you, sylus." you take a few more bites before swallowing. "seriously, i needed this."

"i know, sweetie," he says gently. "i know."

you glare at him, but not with as much malice as you used to. "did mephisto snitch on me or something?"

sylus lets out a laugh before grabbing the present box and joining you on the other side of the counter. "he simply saw a poor little hunter in need of some saving."

"since when does being sick mean needing saving?" you mutter as you set your utensils down, having finished the meal. you make a mental note to ask where he got the food. you're definitely going to visit wherever this exquisite meal came from (the man sitting next to you would die if he knew you wanted to visit his place).

sylus hands you the present box, causing your eyes to widen as you finally process its existence. "merry christmas, sweetie."

instead of accepting it, you jump out of your seat and dash to your room, though not without yelling a "wait here!" your heart beats rapidly as you open your closet door, your eyes landing on a small box wrapped in glossy black paper. yes, you were planning on spending christmas alone. yes, you were planning on giving this to sylus as nonchalantly as possible AFTER christmas (as much as he infuriates you, you still wanted to gift him something. why? you're not sure). and yet, here you are, holding the gift to your chest as you sprint back to the kitchen. "here," you pant as you thrust your gift into his lap. "merry christmas, sylus."

now it's his turn to be surprised. peering at what you just put in his lap, sylus can't help but blush profusely. you gifted him something. you actually gifted him something. you went out of your way to buy something for him. you thought of him. sylus brings a hand to his mouth, his fingers gripping the sides of his face hard. oh, you're too much. it's taking him everything to not crash himself into you and hold you tightly with his arms, to press himself so deeply into you until there is no chance in heaven or hell you could be separated from him.

"sylus?" you snap him out of his thoughts. "you okay?"

he blinks. "ah." releasing his face from his grip, sylus looks at you with a composed smile. "i'm alright, sweetie. thank you for the gift," he says as he starts unwrapping.

"it's not much," you say shyly. "thank you for your gift too. i'll open it after you finish opening yours."

sylus nods as he opens the box. his lips part when he finds what lies inside. a pair of black gloves, thermal lined with genuine fleece and adorned with adjustable straps. but most importantly, embroidery by your hands. he could recognize your handiwork anywhere thanks to your previous adventure in the grasslands. the white dove delicately sewn into the wrist of the right glove and the initials of his name intricately engraved into the wrist of the left. the man can't help but smile for the umpteenth time tonight. you really were something else.

"i noticed you wear fingerless gloves whenever you ride your motorcycle," you start as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. "as stylish as they are, mr. sylus," you tease. "i think it's better to have gloves that keep you warm during late-night joyrides, especially now since it's winter." finding the courage to grin at him, you conclude your explanation with, "merry christmas, sylus."

sylus swears he sees an angel sitting next to him. how could you not be an angel? with the way you're smiling at him right now? and the amount of thought you put into this gift? (he's trying not to obsess over the fact that you observe him whenever he rides his motorcycle.) the head of onychinus has never believed in angels. but now, he does. thanks to you.

"thank you, sweetie," he tries to say as calmly as possible. "i will cherish them." when he attempts to put the gloves on, you stop him.

"wait, you don't need to put them on yet! you're going to get hot."

"it's fine," sylus assures as he secures the straps. "i want to."

"okay," you flush, happy that he likes the gift. "let me open yours now."

you wonder why his box is so heavy as your fingers rip off the tape. a gasp escapes your mouth as the wrapping paper falls to the ground. "sylus," you tremble. "i can't accept this."

a record player. a sleek, gorgeous record player with an obsidian platter, supported by a mahogany base and a crystal case. you stroke the tonearm, dragging your index finger all the way to the headshell and relishing in the cool feeling the metal provides. "sylus…" you trail off.

"there's more, sweetie." he murmurs. out of thin air, sylus materializes several vinyls with his evol. your eyes widen, recognizing the images that lie at the center of each disc.

"oh my god, sylus!" your favorite band, he got you vinyl records of each album from your favorite band. they've never even had vinyl records before. holy fucking shit. "sylus!" you chant excitedly, leaping into him as you wrap your arms around his neck. "sylus! you shouldn't have! oh my god!"

you jump up and down eagerly, leaving the man stunned in his chair. his arms are outstretched, unsure what to do for the first time ever. you freeze, realizing the position you are in. "oh uh," you quickly retract from him, a red hue forming on your cheeks. "sorry about that." you go to sit back down in your chair, but sylus doesn't let you. he pulls you back to him with an arm around your waist and a hand at the back of your head. standing at full height, the head of onychinus hugs you tightly, so tightly it's as if he never wants to let you go. you hesitate before returning the hug, questioning the man's motives. but he doesn't say or do anything. just stands embracing you. realizing he bears no ill will, you pat his back playfully. "you know i'm sick, right?"

his grip doesn't loosen. "yes, i know."

"you're going to get sick, sylus," you tease, trying to pull away. as much as you appreciate his warmth, the last thing you want is for him to get sick. just the thought of it strikes fear in your heart. you're not sure why. "come on, let go."

sylus sighs before untangling his arms and sitting back down. he'll give in for now. besides, he wouldn't trade that elated look on your face when he revealed the records for anything in the world. he supposes he can enjoy such a view some more.

you giggle excitedly as you examine the vinyl records. "oh, should i play this one first? oh, what about this one? no way! you got this one too?!"

as always, you don't catch the woozy, lovesick smile that appears on sylus' face as he folds his arms and leans back to admire you. if this is what christmas with you is going to look like in the future, sylus desperately hopes you'll spend every christmas with him from now on. but, just to be sure, because nothing is guaranteed in the future, he follows your example and says for the second time of the night, "merry christmas, sweetie."

[mariacallous]

Goldie Finkelstein was just 13 when she was sent to Wiener Graben, a work camp that later became a concentration camp. The youngster lost her entire family in the war, and among the things she never learned from them was how to cook. She had no family recipes and, according to her son, when she married Sol Finkelstein, also a Holocaust survivor, she didn’t know how to boil water or cook an egg.

Eventually, other survivors taught Goldie the necessary skills, and she was a quick learner. She soon became known for the copious amounts of baked goods she would provide for any occasion. Her recipes, some of which are included in the “Honey Cake and Latkes: Recipes from the Old World by the Auschwitz-Birkenau Survivors” cookbook, include cake mixes and other ingredients that wouldn’t have been used in pre-Holocaust Eastern Europe. Her whiskey cake, for example, calls for both yellow cake mix and vanilla pudding mix.

Goldie’s experience illustrates the ways in which recipes, including those we think of as quintessentially Ashkenazi Jewish, have changed over the years. Survivors lost the ancestors who passed along oral recipes. Families’ personal artifacts, such as handwritten recipes, were abandoned when Jews were forced to flee. 

Most significantly, perhaps, after the war, survivors had access to different ingredients in their new homes. Sometimes that was due to seasonality, such as was the case for those who moved from Eastern Europe to Israel and had access to more fruits and vegetables year-round, including dates and pomegranates. Other times, it reflected changing tastes or newfound wealth  — liver soup, pates with liver and offal were classic Eastern European dishes in the early 1900s, when there was an intention to use every part of the animal, but became increasingly uncommon. In other cases, like Goldie’s, packaged goods replaced homemade. Another survivor whose recipes appear in “Honey Cake and Latkes,”Lea Roth, detailed making noodles for Passover from the starch leftover at the bottom of a bowl after grating potatoes before the war. After the war, most people added “noodles” to the grocery list.

“Some of these recipes changed because of New World versus Old World,” explains Jeffrey Yoskowitz, author of “The Gefilte Manifesto: New Recipes for Old World Jewish Foods.” Yoskowitz and his co-author Liz Alpern work not to replicate pre-war Ashkenazi Jewish recipes, but to reclaim and modernize them. To do that, they’ve had to examine the ways in which recipes have changed.

In the Old World, for instance, almost every recipe called for breadcrumbs. At Passover, the leftover crumbs from the matzah were used to make matzah balls, leaving nothing to waste. But when immigrants in the U.S. could use Manischewitz pre-made matzah meal, then recipes started calling for it to make matzah balls.Today’s recipes for kugels with cream cheese, cottage cheese and sour cream would not have been made in the Old World, where dairy products were expensive. Again, ubiquitous cows in the New World made that “celebration of dairy” possible, Yoskowitz says.

At first, recipes may not seem like the most essential thing to recover from Holocaust survivors, but they paint a picture of what life was like before the war. It is essential to see the Jewish experience as one that is not solely as victims, and learning what people ate and cooked is part of that.

“Bringing back recipes can help bring people back to life,” says Edna Friedberg, a historian and senior curator with the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. “In particular, it was women who were in the kitchen in this period, and so this is a way to make the lives of women very vivid and real for people.”

The idea is not to romanticize Eastern Europe, says Maria Zalewska, executive director of the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial Foundation, which published “Honey Cake and Latkes,” but to see the memories connected to togetherness, like picking fruit toward the end of the summer and using that fruit in a recipe, such as cold cherry soup with egg-white dumplings. 

In addition, examining recipes gives us a sense of what role cooking and food played in trauma processing, Zalewska says. “Remembering the foods and the food traditions of their lives before imprisonment were some of the ways that survivors coped with starvation,” Zalewska adds. These are things that survivors say they are not often asked about, but when asked they report remembering dreaming about food during incarceration. 

“We have quite a number of testimonies, where survivors talk about being in situations of starvation, and food deprivation and ghettos and camps and in hiding, and that dreaming about and remembering food from before gave them emotional sustenance,” explains Friedberg.

Exploring such memories have been meaningful for those survivors who were young when they lost their families.

New Orleans’ Chef Alon Shaya has been working for several years to recreate recipes from a book belonging to the family of Steven Fenves, a survivor and a volunteer for the museum. The book was rescued by the family cook, Maris, when the family was forced to flee their home on the Yugoslavia-Hungary border in 1944. The recipes are largely written without measurements, times or temperatures, and many of the ingredients are different from those used today. (Like the Fenves family, Goldie’s son, Joseph Finkelstein, says his mother wasn’t big on using measurements as we think of them in recipes today. She knew the quantity of an ingredient, for example, if it would fit in her palm.) Unlike Yoskowitz, who is looking to update recipes, Shaya has been working to replicate them as closely as possible  — and has come across a few surprises.

Many of the desserts use a lot of walnuts, for example, which, of course, are also used in contemporary baking. But Shaya is using what he says are “copious amounts of walnuts” in various ways, such as grilled walnuts and toasted walnuts. The Fenves family walnut cream cake, which includes both walnuts ground in the batter and in a cream in-between the cake layers, has featured on the menu at one of Shaya’s restaurants, Safta, in Denver.

For all the recreation, and Shaya’s goal to bring the tastes of his youth back to Fenves, he says “it is impossible that a recipe in New Orleans would be the same as one in Bulgaria. The seasons are different, what animals are butchered are different, and the spices taste different.”

Indeed, place matters, Yoskowitz says. Ashkenazi food has a reputation of being terrible, he says. Take mushroom soup, for example. “There is no good mushroom soup in a deli. It is made with mushrooms that don’t have much flavor. But if you have it somewhere made with mushrooms grown in the forest, then that is going to be good soup.”

Many Holocaust survivors settled in new lands with new ingredients, and little memory of how things were made before the war. They knew they used to eat mushroom soup but didn’t specifically remember the forest-grown and harvested fungi. So, dishes morphed depending on what survivors had in their new home. In Eastern Europe, veal was plentiful, but in the U.S. and Israel, schnitzel began being made with chicken instead (a process Yoskowitz calls the “chickentization” of cuisine). And the beloved Jewish pastrami on rye? The pastrami would have traditionally been made with kosher goose or lamb. It wasn’t until Jews came to the U.S. that beef was easily accessible. 

The same is true of what is likely the most iconic Jewish American dish. “Bagel and lox are what we think of as the most Jewish food. But the only thing that came over was the cured and smoked fish,” Yoskowitz says. “Cream cheese was a New York state invention. Capers were Italians. It was a completely new creation, and it became a taste associated with Jewish people.”

One of the most poignant recipes in the “Honey Cake and Latkes” book is a chocolate sandwich, a basic concoction of black bread, butter and shaved dark chocolate. Survivor Eugene Ginter remembers his mother making it for him in Germany after the war, to fatten him up after years of starvation.

Adds Shaya: “We have to continue to adapt, and I think that that is part of the beauty of it.”