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

In a medium bowl, combine egg, salt, pepper, matzah meal, and water; add hash browns, and let rest for 5 minutes. Place into a blender and puree until just a bit of texture is left.

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

Place the beans and the 10 cups water into a Dutch oven. Bring to a boil, and cook 10 minutes. Turn off heat, cover saucepan, and let beans soak for 2 hours or more. Drain.

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

Place the latkes on a microwaveable serving platter, and top with 2 cups of the cholent. Sprinkle the Comté over the top and cook in the microwave until the cheese is melted. Sprinkle the Cheddar over the top without heating it. (Cheddar has a tendency to separate, so Simone recommended doing this to preserve its integrity.) Serve immediately with sour cream, a traditional accompaniment to both nachos and latkes.

Serves 4.

Totchos, Michigans, and Coneys ... A Rambling Shpiel

Totchos??? What in the world is/are "totchos"?!?

I'll tell you: they're nachos made with tater tots! They have no redeeming nutritional value whatsoever - well, there were fresh tomatoes and jalapenos - but boy are they fun to eat!

My BFF Wendy and I went down to the Anchor Bar in Detroit awhile back, for a meeting of the Detroit Drunken Historical Society; they were planning to discuss the War of 1812 and Detroit's critical role in it.  Well, I like history - when presented properly, it offers stories of real people, decisions they face, defining moments in their lives. Sitting and chatting about a 200-year-old war and its logistics, though, wasn't my idea of a good time ... but it was an adventure, so why not try?

Well, it was even more tedious, truth be told, than I'd anticipated. The sweet but scattered woman who introduced the evening was confused about some key dates and locations. The first presenter was a very nice man who'd greeted Wendy and me when we walked in, but he reminded me of an 8th Grade history teacher droning through a lecture. There were a couple of questions and comments from folks who engage in war re-enactments. My mind wandered. These were clearly people more concerned with where to find the beer than with any intellectual pursuits ... emphasis on the "drunken" rather than the "historical."

But then - as always, with me - we come back 'round to the food to liven things up. There were totchos! Who doesn't love tater tots? Who doesn't love nachos? It was inspired to combine them into a crispy, crunchy, cheesy, gooey mess that was utterly irresistible. Perhaps because they were so good, in a trashy kinda way, or perhaps because I was so bored - could be either or both - I couldn't stop eating them. It took a great deal of will power to save enough to make an excellent breakfast for the next morning. I love my savory breakfasts, after all, and leftovers are just about a perfect thing to start my day.

We thankfully got to the last presenter of the evening, a Canadian man who'd been invited to share a different perspective on the war. He had a good sense of humor and a sharp wit; and he spoke with the cute "-oot" accent that my mother and her relatives haven't had for decades, having been in the U.S. for 60 years or so now ... think of the McKenzie Brothers from SCTV!

Somehow - I'm serious, the evening was so excruciating that my mind was off on a nomadic trek, so I really can't tell you how the tangent arose - this man found a way to mention that in Canada a hot dog with tomato sauce is called a "Michigan." What on Earth this had to do with the War of 1812, I can't imagine. But I've never heard of this name for a hot dog despite having lived in this state for more than 30 years, despite living only an hour away from Ontario, despite having distant relatives in Canada ... pique my curiosity, finally, at the end of the show!

So, of course, I immediately came home and started doing some research.

I could find nothing about hot dogs with a tomato sauce, but there was information about those topped with tomato-based sauces that are essentially a loose chili.  These specific chili dogs are eaten in New York City, though they're not as popular as the "dirty water dogs" you buy from street vendors (so named because they sit in the water all day ... possibly more than one day?); those are topped with a schmear of mustard and a pile of sauerkraut, maybe some onions.

But in upstate New York - in the Ontario vicinity, of course - the chili dogs are apparently called "Michigans;" and the sauce was created by a man from Jackson, Michigan. In the Detroit area, we top the hot dogs with chili, mustard, and lots of fresh strong onions. But we don't call them "Michigans" - they're "Coneys." Here's the story that helps to explain some of the history and the permutations:

"Although there are many different varieties of Michigan sauce available today, the original Michigan sauce was created by Mr. George Todoroff in Jackson, Michigan. The sauce was originally created to be used as chile sauce. In 1914, Mr. Todoroff took his recipe to Coney Island in Brooklyn New York and opened his first restaurant.  However, the hot dog hadn’t arrived on the scene when he first opened his restaurant, so he had to wait until 1916 to make his first famous 'Jackson Coney Island' hot dog.

In 1867, Charles Feltman, a German born immigrant, was selling pastry items from a small food cart at Coney Island. To make any money, he needed to sell a lot of food from a small space. His idea was to take a hard roll, steam it and wrap it around a German sausage. At that time, sports cartoonist Tad Dorgan caricatured German figures as Dachshund dogs and eventually coined Feltman’s sandwich a 'Hot Dog'! The hot dog was a big hit and it didn’t take Todoroff long to capitalize on combining the hot dog and his chili sauce.

The name of the Michigan hotdog originally came from Plattsburgh, New York. However, how and when the Michigan Sauce arrived there is somewhat of a mystery."

So, I still don't have all the answers. But at least I ultimately received a history lesson, even if it had nothing to do with the War of 1812!

Anchor Bar
450 West Fort Street
Detroit, MI 48226



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