"floo·zie \ˈflü-zē\: a usually young woman of loose morals." Thus a Food Floozie is not a woman who can be seduced by virtually any man, but rather a woman who can be seduced by virtually any food (other than sushi).
Showing posts with label latkes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label latkes. Show all posts
Monday, November 25, 2013
Sweet Potato and Corn Potatonik
My very good friend, and a former restaurant chef, Kate wrote to me recently with this tantalizing tidbit: "Just discovered potatonik while reading a local obituary, and after Googling it realize that this could change everything come Thanksgivikkuh! Might be the perfect dish for blending the flavors of both traditions."
Well, remarkably - given that I work and live in the Jewish community - I had never heard of this. (Who's been holding out on me???) So, of course, I immediately did a search and found a recipe from Mark Bittman for his grandmother's recipe. A potatonik is essentially a giant latke!
But for Thanksgivukkah - the fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime overlapping of Thanksgiving with the first day of Hanukkah - we needed to incorporate some of those Thanksgiving flavors into this potato dish. So I adapted the recipe significantly while following the basic procedure, adding sweet potatoes and corn and just a bit of cornmeal.
I fried it up, watched it sizzle, flipped it (a little less than gracefully, so patching was required), cooked it more on the other side, and then plated an enormous, golden, crispy melding of Jewish and Thanksgiving culinary traditions.
Serve it with both Brandied Cranberry Apple Compote and sour cream, and enjoy every little celebratory bite!
Sweet Potato and Corn Potatonik
1 pound sweet potatoes
1/2 pound Yukon Gold potatoes
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 cup corn kernels
3 eggs
3 tablespoons cornmeal
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1/2 cup oil
Peel the sweet potato and trim the ends; grate into a large mixing bowl. Grate the potatoes and add to the sweet potato; stir together with the onion, corn, eggs, cornmeal, salt, and pepper.
Heat the oil in a 13" skillet, then carefully spread the sweet potato batter into it, flattening the mixture. Cook over medium-ish (bit more than medium, but not quite medium-high) heat for 15 minutes. Slide the potatonik onto a large platter, then cover with another platter; flip, then slide the potatonik back into the skillet and cook for another 15 minutes.
Slide potatonik onto a serving platter, then serve by cutting into wedges.
Makes 12-16 servings.
And here are some other dishes for your Thanksgivukkah feast (or for either Thanksgiving or Hanukkah, whatever you're celebrating in the next few days!):
Kugel Latkes
Loaded Baked Potato Latkes
Burek (Spiced Beef Egg Rolls)
Provolone Fritto con Marinara (Fried Provolone)
Curried Potato 'n' Pea Latkes with Yogurt-Cucumber Sauce
Pumpkin Apple Bread
Sweet Potatoes Baked with Rosemary
Pomegranate Molasses-Glazed Carrots
Butterscotch Pumpkin Pudding
Sweet Potato Biscuits
Monday, December 10, 2012
Loaded Baked Potato Latkes
"These are the best latkes ever!"
Jeremy has spoken. You should listen.
These combine all the crispiness of fried potatoes with all the goodness of a loaded baked potato that's been cut open and filled with cheese, green onions, bacon, and sour cream. These are a very good time.
You'll notice that I didn't use real bacon - you may substitute this fine ingredient, if you'd like to. When I prepare Jewish food for posts, I always respect the dietary laws that forbid combining meat and dairy products and also ban anything having to do with pig. But really, truly, even with fake bacon, these were exceptional.
Chanukkah is a minor holiday that began this past Saturday at sundown, but it's a festive and fattening party which celebrates the miracle of one day's worth of consecrated oil having lasted eight days. The Eastern European (Ashkenazic) tradition is to eat latkes, the Israeli one offers sufganiyot [soof-GAHN-yoht] - jelly doughnuts.
Fried foods reign supreme! Especially these latkes ....
If you'd like to try other celebratory foods during Chanukkah, here are some options:
Spiced Beef Egg Rolls
Doughnut Delights
Provolone Fritto con Marinara
Curried Potato Latkes
Reuben Latkes
Loaded Baked Potato Latkes
- 4 cups hash browns, defrosted
- 2 tablespoons matzah meal
- 2 eggs
- 3 tablespoons water
- 4 pieces Morningstar Farms Bacon Strips, chopped
- 2/3 cup shredded Cheddar cheese
- 4 scallions, chopped fine
- oil, for frying
- sour cream, for serving
In a large mixing bowl, combine hash browns, matzah meal, egg, and water; let rest for 5 minutes. Stir in bacon strips, cheese, and scallions.
Pour oil into a large skillet to 1/4" depth; heat over medium heat. Take 1/4 cupfuls of latke batter, and fry for 5 minutes per side until golden; drain on paper towels. Continue frying until batter is used up, stove and countertops are greasy, and your entire house smells of cooking oil ... ah, the traditions of Chanukkah!
Serve immediately, with sour cream.
Makes 10 latkes.
Monday, October 8, 2012
My Yiddische Nachos (for Daniel Saraga)
In its original incarnation, this was going to be a fun and frivolous post - truly Floozie-ish. A winding tale about a ridiculous but fabulous little concoction of Jewish-style nachos, using potato latkes as the base, that was inspired by my friend and blogging buddy Daniel Saraga of The Haggis and The Herring - the culinary adventures of a nice Jewish boy and his Scottish wife.
I had written on July 30 about Totchos - nachos made with tater tots. They're unbelievable, and also unbelievably good!
Dan wrote to me:
"Walking across the office it hit me: If you can make a really thin latke (thicker than a potato chip, but not too thick - maybe made with pureed potatoes), then you've got a plate of Yiddish nachos .... Dunno if I want to even attempt it - it sounds good, but it also sounds like a heart attack on a plate."
Well, I was hooked! So we bounced ideas back and forth a bit, and decided that instead of chili or refried beans we would use cholent [CHOH-lehnt] - an iconic Jewish stew that cooks slowly over a Friday night, so that Jews can return home from Saturday morning Shabbat services to a hot meal without violating prohibitions against cooking on the Sabbath. And we decided to make it a vegetarian cholent, incongruous as that notion is (since it's traditional to battle over who gets the marrow bones that are often put into it), because we determined we should respectfully honor the dietary laws and thus prohibit any mixing of meat and dairy products despite not keeping kosher ourselves. And it's just not a proper plate o' nachos without cheese, after all.
I'm not quick-witted by any means - it's a gift I admire and envy in others. When I asked Dan what this little taste treat should be called, he immediately wrote back to me: "Well, as long as we can get Mandy Patinkin to endorse them, 'My Yiddische Nachos,' of course :-)" [YID-ih-shuh]
Dan said: "Now we've talked about it enough that I might need to actually do something about it. I might wait until December, tho." I promised to get to work sorting out some details, trying to figure out how to cook the latkes to the proper consistency, how to make a good vegetarian cholent. I wanted to be ready for Chanukkah, when latkes are the mandatory food - fried in celebratory oil as they are - which would be the perfect occasion for our dish.
I left services on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, September 17, and went to the store to pick up a few things. I saw a package of soy chorizo and thought to myself that I should get some, precisely because I intended to work on Dan's inspired nacho notion after the Jewish High Holidays and knew I would need this ingredient for the cholent.
I got home from the store, turned on my computer, and was surprised to find an email from Dan's wife Meredith. I couldn't believe what I was reading - it made no sense, it wasn't possible. Tears started streaming, because what Meredith told me was such a horrific shock: her Darling Daniel, as she always called him, had died suddenly just three days earlier after making dinner for his family, which he loved to do. Sadly, the very heart attack Dan feared from this dish is what apparently took his life. He was only 37.
Meredith wrote that Dan had considered me a friend, which I feel was truly an honor; he was a good, good man, a great guy, smart, funny, with a heart that shone even through a computer screen. He left behind two very young sons - Jacob just learned to ride a bike this past summer, and their Jeremy isn't yet 2 - with a third baby, affectionately known as "J3," on the way. And he left behind Meredith, whom he cherished and who adored him in return. Even though Dan and I never met in the real world so that I could see his face light up when talking about them - we had bonded in cyberspace over food and Judaism - his love for his family was abundantly clear in everything he wrote.
And so, what should have been a silly post about devising a plate of Jewish-style nachos - as two friends bantered back-and-forth from Toronto to Ann Arbor over the nitpickiest, yet critical, details - has instead turned into a bittersweet tribute to my friend Daniel Saraga, without whom this recipe would not exist. He devised the idea and named it; and his combined respect for tradition, love of food, multi-cultural worldview, creativity, and distinct playfulness and humor all shine through in this delicious mishmash.
I debated whether to make these with a Moroccan influence (Daniel's heritage - he teased me when I used my traditional tea glasses to serve peanut butter pudding!) or a Mexican-ish one; instead, I decided to focus on the "Yiddische" aspect, leaning towards Eastern Europe. Dan and I had considered the difficulty of choosing a cheese, but never settled upon anything in particular.
So I am immensely grateful to Simone of Morgan and York, a lovely shop offering exceptional wines and gourmet foods, who took on my quandry and recommended a wonderful Cheddar. She gave me two choices that would honor the ban against mixing meat and dairy products (cheeses without animal rennet), and also a wide variety of others that I could use in further experimenting for my own supremely treyf ([TRAYF] = non-kosher) purposes, such as adding brisket to the cholent before topping it with cheese. (She also provided a personal tasting session for my Jeremy and me, which was so fantastic!) I also offer thanks to Eric the Cheesemonger at The Produce Station, another fabulous specialty food and wine market, who suggested Comté ([kohm-TAY] - a Swiss-like cheese) for its exceptional melting qualities. Together, the cheeses offer the ooey-gooey factor coupled with an "oomph" of flavor.
It makes me so, so sad that I didn't get to share the final concoction with Dan, that he didn't get to try it or share it with Meredith and the boys; I would have waited anxiously, after sending him the instructions, to read his report back about who looked askance, who dove right in, how many days the house smelled after frying all the latkes ... :) I smile as I contemplate it, and as I write this remembrance of my friend.
But he won't be writing to me, won't be making me laugh with his comments, won't be sharing this last stretch of the Yiddische Nachos adventure with me. And I realize that this loss for me so greatly and inconceivably pales by comparison to knowing that Dan won't watch his boys grow up, won't hold his new baby, won't grow old with Meredith.
Dan led me to this dish, and I hope he was guiding me as I prepared it. Either that, or he's shaking his head and offering up a pained, "Oy!" I hope I came close to approximating his vision.
With many, many thanks to Dan for the smiles, the laughter, the thought-provoking questions and comments, and especially for his kindness and his friendship. Never doubt my philosophy that people bond over food, even in cyberspace. The term "blogging buddy" is so woefully inadequate to describe some of the truly wonderful people I've met online, like Dan, but never had the thrill and privilege of meeting in the real world so that we could share a meal. I am so grateful for having known him.
May Dan's memory be for a blessing ....
My Yiddische Nachos
Latkes:
- 1 egg
- pinch of kosher salt
- pinch of freshly ground black pepper
- 2 tablespoons matzah meal
- 3/4 cup water
- 2 cups frozen hash browns
- oil, for frying
Heat 2 tablespoons oil at a time in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add batter by the scant 1/4-cupful and fry for 4 minutes per side until golden brown. Remove to a plate and continue until batter is gone.
Cholent:
- 1 cup dry kidney beans
- 1 cup dry pinto beans
- 10 cups + 2 cups water
- 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 2 medium onions, chopped
- 2 large scallions, chopped
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- 1 12-ounce package Trader Joe's soy chorizo
- 1 14.5-ounce can stewed tomatoes, chopped, with their liquid
- 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
- 2-1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon lemon pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon salt-free seasoning
- 1/3 cup quick-cook barley
- 1 cup beer
Rinse the Dutch oven, then add the oil. Add onions, scallions, and red pepper flakes; cook over medium-high heat for 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the chorizo, tomatoes, and mustard; cook for 5 more minutes. Add the remaining ingredients and cook for 5 minutes.
Place the cholent into a crockpot, and cook on "low" for 8 hours or more.
(If you prepare just the cholent, rather than the entire dish, it's a great vegan meal.)
Nachos:
- 4 ounces grated Comté cheese
- 1-1/2 ounces grated sharp Cheddar cheese
- sour cream, for serving
Serves 4.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
"Chopped" Challenge - Mini Carrot Latkes with Chocolate Rum Caramel Sauce
Rachel at Diary of a Chocoholic is a girl after my own heart! Here is her dare for my "Chopped" challenge: "Dessert (because it's my favorite!)? Carrots, Chocolate and Rum!"
Well, how can we go wrong with chocolate and rum, and with a hint of nutrition to delude us into thinking we're behaving ourselves?
Today is sadly the last day of the challenge, in which I had asked readers to suggest ingredients that I would then have to use in creating a dish for a specific course of a meal. It's been so much fun! But at least we're going out on a sweet note.
I knew immediately that I didn't want to resort to making carrot cake with the suggested ingredients. It is one of the great foods in the universe, absolutely! But it's too obvious. I debated candying carrot sticks, turning them into gorgeous translucent rum-scented dippers with a chocolate fondue-like sauce. But adapting a candied orange peel recipe for a vegetable with a different consistency seemed to have too many variables to predict success - too soft or too hard or too gumdrop-y? A noble notion to tinker with some day when I have time to play.
So, being a girl with a Jewish soul and appetite, I then thought of latkes. They don't always need to be made with potatoes, and they don't always need to be savory; carrots offer an inherent sweetness that could be played up for dessert. The combination of mini spiced treats with a luscious chocolate sauce started to sing a Siren song to me.
These little pancakes have a fabulously enticing fragrance, and are utterly enhanced by the addictive sauce. (Pour it over ice cream and it thickens like fudge ... sigh. I'm almost - but not quite! - ashamed to admit that I made a full batch of the sauce, ate and enjoyed it with a few of the latkes, and then simply took a spoon and ate the rest of it "as is." )
Thanks to Rachel, we can all be chocoholics today while still eating our vegetables!
Mini Carrot Latkes with Chocolate Rum Caramel Sauce
Latkes:
1/2-pound carrots, peeled, finely shredded
4 ounces sugar cookies, crushed fine
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 cup brown sugar
pinch of kosher salt
2 eggs
1/4 cup oil, for frying
Combine carrots, cookie crumbs, cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar, salt, and eggs in a large bowl.
Heat oil over medium-high heat. Add batter by the tablespoon and cook 3-4 minutes per side, until nicely golden brown. Remove from pan, drain on paper towels, and continue with remaining batter. Makes 16 latkes.
Sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons dark rum
2 ounces dark chocolate, chopped
1/3 cup half-and-half
Melt butter, brown sugar and rum together in a small saucepan over low heat. Add chocolate and stir until melted. Slowly stir in half-and-half.
To serve:
Whipped cream
Drizzle chocolate sauce over 4 dessert plates. Place 4 latkes onto each plate, and top with whipped cream.
Serves 4.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Reuben Latkes for the First Night of Chanukkah
Chanukkah, one of my very favorite holidays, begins at sundown tonight. It brings beautiful candlelight from the menorah, as well as permission to eat fried foods without (too much) guilt!
During the eight days of Chanukkah, Jews celebrate "the miracle of the oil" when a mere one day's worth of consecrated oil burned for eight days as the Temple in Jerusalem was rededicated in 165 B.C. In modern times, this has been turned into a tradition of eating latkes [LAHT-kuhs] - fried potato pancakes - and sufganiyot [soof-GAHN-yoht], which are similar to jelly doughnuts.
Now, don't get me wrong - I am not in any way averse to either fried potatoes or fried dough! But I kinda like to honor the traditions while tweaking them a bit.
So instead of making potato pancakes, I deconstructed Jeremy's favorite sandwich - the Reuben - and turned it into a little crispy fried patty of its own.
The familiar flavors shine through, and then they're even enhanced by the caramelization that comes from being fried until golden brown. You could also add a bit of shredded Swiss cheese to the batter; but that wouldn't be kosher (meat and dairy products can't be combined, according to the Jewish dietary laws). Although I don't keep kosher myself, I do try to respect that many of the people celebrating Chanukkah tonight do.
The Reuben latkes are also great for people - like Jeremy and my fabulous blogging buddy Michele - who follow a low-carb diet; there are only about 4 carbs per latke, as opposed to the gazillion that you'll find in the traditional potato variety.
Happy Chanukkah! Enjoy some fried foods over the next eight days, and don't make excuses - just celebrate right along with me!
Reuben Latkes
12 Triscuit crackers - Rye with Caraway Seeds
2 cups sauerkraut
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
4 ounces sliced deli corned beef, chopped
2 large eggs
3/4 cup oil
Thousand Island dressing, for serving
Crush the crackers into fine crumbs and place into a large bowl. Squeeze the sauerkraut to drain it thoroughly, then add it to the mixing bowl with the cracker crumbs. Stir in the onion, the corned beef, and the eggs; combine well.
Heat 1/4 cup oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat; drop batter by 1/4 cupfuls into the oil, making 4 latkes at a time. Cook for 4-5 minutes per side until browned, then remove from skillet to drain on paper towels. Repeat with remaining oil and batter.
Makes 12 latkes. Serve hot, with Thousand Island dressing.
And don't forget to check out some other latke recipes for your Chanukkah celebration:
Curried Latkes with Peas
Jambalaya Latkes
Labels:
Chanukkah,
corned beef,
latkes,
oil,
recipe,
Reuben,
rye,
sauerkraut
Monday, December 6, 2010
Love My Leftovers!
I am not one of these people. I do not understand their little quirk.
Because I, for one, adore leftovers; I will even make extra quantities of food simply to insure that there are goodies awaiting me for breakfast, lunch or dinner the next day. Sometimes it's something that is merely reheated, and other times the primary ingredient is re-envisioned into something entirely different. But I think leftovers are a fabulous thing, and I put bunches of 'em to good use on Saturday.
For starters, I had leftover latkes 'cause I'd made a huge batch for the first night of Chanukkah. Tom and I each had a couple for dinner that evening, another couple for breakfast the next day, I brought two for my lunch at work on Friday ... and still, there were two just sitting patiently and hoping that someone would pay attention to them on Saturday morning. Well, who am I to make any poor little latke feel rejected??? Show those babies some love!
Then I moved on to lunch, almost immediately afterwards. My brain is perpetually consumed with what I want to eat, what I'm going to make, what sounds good to try, what I've eaten and enjoyed. So it was only natural that, once breakfast was over, I started getting lunch ready! I had a busy morning planned; getting the meal prepared so that it only needed to be warmed up once I got home was simply careful planning on my part, rather than obsessive behavior.
I still had turkey and garlicky mashed potatoes left over from Thanksgiving; when there's only two adults in the household -- and no 19-year-old son devouring everything in sight anymore, since I moved in with Tom -- it takes awhile to use up the food! I also had a few peas in the freezer, 3 carrots, the last dribble of flour in a bag, half a lemon ... much of it found a home in my Shepherd's Pie.
Though, really, if it doesn't use lamb -- the animal that's actually shepherded -- then can it be called "Shepherd's" Pie ...? It's not Fisherman's Pie, 'cause there's no fish. Farmer's Pie, since turkeys and vegetables come from farms??? Let's just call it what it was: Individual Turkey 'n' Mashed Potato Casseroles. Make this and enjoy!
(Yes, I know that the photo above looks more like onion soup with cheese melted on top than it does a casserole! But trust me -- I can vouch for its true identity.)
Individual Turkey 'n' Mashed Potato Casseroles
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons unbleached flour
1-3/4 cups turkey stock
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dill
juice of 1/4 lemon
1/2 small onion, diced, sauteed
1 carrot, thinly sliced, cooked
3/4 cup cooked peas
1 cup chopped leftover turkey
1 egg
2 cups mashed potatoes
1/3 cup shredded parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 350F. Grease two 2-cup ramekins.
In a saucepan, melt butter over medium heat; whisk in flour and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Pour in the stock very slowly, whisking constantly, until the flour mixture is smoothly incorporated and all the stock is in the saucepan. Cook for 5 minutes over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the gravy is starting to thicken.
Add the salt, pepper, dill and lemon juice. Stir in the onion, carrot, peas and turkey. Divide the gravy among the ramekins.
Stir the egg into the mashed potatoes until the mixture is well combined. Spoon the potatoes over the turkey gravy, smoothing a bit; yes, some of the potatoes will start to sink -- that's okay.
Sprinkle the parmesan over the potatoes.
Place ramekins onto a baking sheet to catch any drips, and bake for 30-35 minutes until the potatoes are nicely golden brown and the gravy is bubbling.
Serves 2.

Thursday, December 2, 2010
Latkepalooza!
I love latkes -- truly, they are one of my very favorite foods in the universe. Fried potato pancakes -- does it get any better than that??? Sure, I could make and/or eat them any time I want to, just as we could all roast turkey or ham for a Sunday dinner rather than waiting for Thanksgiving or Easter. But it's just not the same, is it, without the specialness of a holiday?
So, on the first night of Chanukkah every year I make latkes. There are eight nights of Chanukkah; and I have to admit that while I light the menorah each evening, I do not always adhere to the theme of celebrating the miracle of the oil when it comes to dinner.
But the first night is different. It's not Chanukkah 'til the house is filled with the fragrance of fried foods and the stovetop is splattered with grease.
There is also a tradition of eating dairy products which -- I was most surprised to find out -- a rabbi I know of wasn't even aware of 'til recently ... hmmmm.
As mentioned yesterday, Chanukkah honors the rededication of the temple in Jerusalem after it was desecrated by the armies of Antiochus IV. The story is told that Judith fed the captain of Antiochus' army cheese, to make him thirsty and encourage him to drink himself into a stupor. Once he fell asleep (or, rather, passed out), she cut off his head; the leaderless army then retreated. So anything made with dairy products is also a perfectly acceptable celebratory food. Macaroni and cheese, cheesecake -- it's all good, as far as I'm concerned ... :)
But last night, it was all about the latkes ... and the gorgeous fruit salad Tom put together while my glasses got all spotted with splattering oil.
And so, here is my incredibly easy recipe for Curried Potato 'n' Pea Latkes with Yogurt-Cucumber Sauce. The house smells amazing as these cook, and you can make them spicier or milder depending upon your tastes. Just my way of taking a traditional food and giving it a bit of a nudge ....
Curried Potato 'n' Pea Latkes with Yogurt-Cucumber Sauce
1 6-ounce box Manischewitz potato pancake mix
2 eggs
2 cups water
3 cups frozen hash browns
1/2 cup frozen peas
2 scallions, chopped fine
1-1/2 teaspoons curry powder
1 teaspoon + 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
lots of oil for cooking
1 cup plain yogurt
1 teaspoon dill
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup finely diced peeled cucumber
In a mixing bowl, combine the mix, eggs, and water; let rest for 5 minutes. Stir in the hash browns, peas, scallions, curry powder and 1 teaspoon salt.
Heat a generous 1/4" oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Drop latke batter by the 1/4-cupful and flatten each mound a bit. Fry for 4-ish minutes per side, until golden brown. Drain on a paper towel.
So, on the first night of Chanukkah every year I make latkes. There are eight nights of Chanukkah; and I have to admit that while I light the menorah each evening, I do not always adhere to the theme of celebrating the miracle of the oil when it comes to dinner.
But the first night is different. It's not Chanukkah 'til the house is filled with the fragrance of fried foods and the stovetop is splattered with grease.
There is also a tradition of eating dairy products which -- I was most surprised to find out -- a rabbi I know of wasn't even aware of 'til recently ... hmmmm.
As mentioned yesterday, Chanukkah honors the rededication of the temple in Jerusalem after it was desecrated by the armies of Antiochus IV. The story is told that Judith fed the captain of Antiochus' army cheese, to make him thirsty and encourage him to drink himself into a stupor. Once he fell asleep (or, rather, passed out), she cut off his head; the leaderless army then retreated. So anything made with dairy products is also a perfectly acceptable celebratory food. Macaroni and cheese, cheesecake -- it's all good, as far as I'm concerned ... :)
But last night, it was all about the latkes ... and the gorgeous fruit salad Tom put together while my glasses got all spotted with splattering oil.
And so, here is my incredibly easy recipe for Curried Potato 'n' Pea Latkes with Yogurt-Cucumber Sauce. The house smells amazing as these cook, and you can make them spicier or milder depending upon your tastes. Just my way of taking a traditional food and giving it a bit of a nudge ....
Curried Potato 'n' Pea Latkes with Yogurt-Cucumber Sauce
1 6-ounce box Manischewitz potato pancake mix
2 eggs
2 cups water
3 cups frozen hash browns
1/2 cup frozen peas
2 scallions, chopped fine
1-1/2 teaspoons curry powder
1 teaspoon + 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
lots of oil for cooking
1 cup plain yogurt
1 teaspoon dill
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup finely diced peeled cucumber
In a mixing bowl, combine the mix, eggs, and water; let rest for 5 minutes. Stir in the hash browns, peas, scallions, curry powder and 1 teaspoon salt.
Heat a generous 1/4" oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Drop latke batter by the 1/4-cupful and flatten each mound a bit. Fry for 4-ish minutes per side, until golden brown. Drain on a paper towel.
Combine the yogurt, dill, 1/2 teaspoon salt, pepper and cucumber.
Serve the latkes hot, with yogurt-cucumber sauce.


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