The Year of the Peanut

Hello!  Yes, I know, it’s been a while.  Stuff has happened.  Lots of stuff has happened.  I sold a house and bought a house.  And then I moved to that house, which took up every moment of spare energy available.  We had a wonderful trip to Budapest (thank you Sassy and Sabraman) and also a nice vacation at the Grand Canyon (very impressive hole in the ground), Las Vegas and New York.  I left one job, got another job.  Loved that job!  However, that job kept me busy, too busy to blog, but not too busy to cook.  And then I was replaced, by a computer program.  How embarrassing!  So now I’ve become the hunter (of employment) instead of the gatherer (of salary).  But since my last blog entry there’s been something (or rather, someone) else that has made me smile.  You see, I’ve fallen in love…

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A Phoenix From The Ashes

Sassy on her school trip to Auschwitz

I am a classic second generation Holocaust survivor.

My third generation kids are unabashedly Jewish and unabashedly Israeli and I so wish my parents were around to see how I have raised my phoenixes out of the fires and ashes of the camps.

Chatting with Miriyummy: Mrs. S.

Meet Mrs. S.  I never have.  But in one of those “life is stranger than fiction” scenarios, Ju-Boy has.

Bloggers’ Day Out — Gush Etzion — July 2011

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an able foodie in possession of a good blog, must be in want of a nosh…

…unashamedly paraphrased from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice

Never Eat Chocolate Like Bread

My parents in the Valley of Destroyed Communities, Yad Vashem

I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve been asked, “What’s it like to be the child of Holocaust survivors?”

Hurrah! Hurrah!

Today is the 22nd Annual Ra’anana Marathon, which was meant to be two weeks ago but was canceled due to rain.  Lots of rain.  In the last week the weather has warmed up considerably.  Granted, winters in Ra’anana are not exactly Siberian, but you can get cold, especially indoors.  In fact, sometimes I walk the dog just to get outside and warm up a bit.

While I hate the hot and muggy sauna that Ra’anana becomes in the summer months, the springtime can be quite enjoyable.

Suspended Reality



I may have mentioned once or twice, or twenty times, that Ju-Boy and I are the parental units of a blended family.  Sometimes we can be one big happy Brady Bunch, and at other times we resemble the Manson family.  With a large cast of characters, we all have our ways of dealing with the situation.  Ju-Boy and I prefer to deal with our reality by running away from it.  Every now and again we will find someone to watch the dog and just disappear…

Kosher Cooking Carnival — The VeNahafoch Hu Edition

Welcome to the Adar II 5771 issue of the Kosher Cooking Carnival, the Purim edition, where you can party like it’s 3338 (or 423 BCE)!  And just as Haman’s edict against the Jews was turned upside down (venahafoch hu), so is this blog post!  From this point onward, the Kosher Cooking Carnival will be

so start from the bottom, and enjoy…

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Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates

The World Wide Web is a very interesting place.  You dip your tootsies into the deep waters of the Internet and you never know who is going to take a nibble.  You end up finding all sorts of people from your past.

Kinneret Day School Class of '76

I’ve reconnected with half of my sixth grade class.  I found the guy I had a crush on when I was 11.  I’m chatting with my long lost best friend from the playground.  People you think are always going to be part of your Once Upon A Time can become part of your Here And Now, and quite possibly part of your Happily Ever After.  For example, there was this guy I used to trade jokes with over the ether back in the 90s.  In 2005 we traded wedding rings.  Okay, so that one was a bit over the top.  Life isn’t always going to be so trippy.

A piece of Mrs. S.'s sky

Sometimes you meet people over the net that you’ve never met in person.  I’d been reading Mrs. S.’s blog for a while, living through her personal angst as she renovated her house, then just taking a voyeristic peep into her family life, and finally learning a new language, Hebrish.    I’d comment here, comment there, but no connection was really forged until a certain Icelandic volcano forced Miriyummy to be born, and then the connection became two-way.  And then one day, Mrs. S. actually emailed me!

It seems we had another connection, one hanging by a thread, but a connection nonetheless.  It so happens that Mrs. S.’s mom and Ju-Boy used to work together once upon a time in the last century.  Mrs. S. never actually had the pleasure of meeting Ju-Boy in the flesh, but her family tells a story about him, and I quote (with permission, of course):

Sixteen years ago, before my sister’s wedding, my mother told her coworkers that the wedding was going to be starting on time and that they should plan accordingly.

[Ju-Boy] didn’t believe her.  He joked that EVERYONE claims that “we’re starting on time” but that no Israeli wedding ever does.  However, my mother insisted that this wedding would be different, and so they bet on it.  They determined what “on time” means and decided that the loser would have to give the winner a chocolate bar.

Anyway, as anyone who knows my parents could have guessed, but to the shock of those (like [Ju-Boy]) who had never attended one of our family’s smachot, the wedding was — of course — very much on time.

My mother didn’t come into work for the first few days after the wedding, but when she finally returned, she found a whole chain of mini chocolate bars covering her desk… 🙂

Okay, maybe life really is that trippy…

And in one of the most awkward segues in the history of this blog, that leads us to the recipe for this week — Chocolate Chicken.  Okay, let’s not all throw up at once.  It really isn’t Chocolate Chicken, but the recipe does have chocolate in it.  Mole (pronounce molay) sauce is common in Mexico and usually served over a variety of different foods.  I like to serve it over chicken.  The original Mexican recipe can have over 20 different ingredients and may or may not contain chocolate.  I like to add the chocolate since it gives the sauce a rich body, serves as a good talking point and supplies excellent shock value to your guests.

Moleyummy Chicken

• 8 chicken pieces (we use the thigh quarters, known in Israel as the meshulash, or the triangle)
• salt, pepper and paprika to taste
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, for browning
• 1 more tablespoon of olive oil
• 1 large onion, chopped medium fine
• 3 cloves of garlic, finely minced
• 1 large can crushed tomatoes
• 1 (now empty can) filled with water
• 1 tablespoon paprika
• 1 tablespoon chili powder (or to taste)
• 1 teaspoon cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 50 grams (2 ounces) dark, bittersweet chocolate

1. Rub the chicken pieces with the salt, pepper and paprika.  Heat the 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a Dutch oven or a large, heavy bottomed saucepan.  Add the chicken pieces top-side down and brown.  After about 5 minutes, turn and cook the bottom sides for another 2 minutes or so.  Remove to a baking dish.  You may have to brown the chicken in two batches, but make sure you have enough space in your baking dish that the pieces are all on one level.
2. Add the one tablespoon of olive oil to the pan in which you browned the chicken, and bring up to heat again.  Toss in the chopped onions and let caramelize until golden.
3. Toss in the minced garlic and stir for a moment.
4. Add the crushed tomatoes, and then take the empty can, fill it with water and add that to the pot.  Stir and bring to a boil.
5. Add the paprika, chili powder, cumin and coriander.  Stir.
6. Taste, and then add the salt and pepper.
7. Bring the heat down until the sauce starts to bubble, and then let it bubble until reduced by one-half.  This could take anywhere between 15 minutes to half an hour.
8. Add the chocolate and stir until melted.
9. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C (350 F).
10. Pour the sauce over the chicken, cover and bake for 1/2 an hour.
11. Serve with rice, tortillas, quinoa, anything you like, but serve with panache!

Discloure of ingedients is at your own risk

Old Country

I grew up in the Bronx, which if you don’t know, is part of New York.  Outside my house was one of the most amazing cities in the world, but step through the doors and you would find yourself on the set of Yentl.  My parents were immigrants, Holocaust survivors who felt most comfortable with the familiarity of their original environment.  Our house may have been furnished with La-Z-Boy recliners and dinette sets bought on Jerome Avenue, but my parents brought their own Old Country touches to the house — a samovar here, European-style dishware there (no Corelle for my mom, nuh huh).  And nothing personified the shtetl atmosphere of the house more than the food that was served up every day of the week.  My parents may have moved their bodies to the States, but their souls were steadfastly left behind in Vilna and Hungary.

Dessert in our house was always compote, or some other stewed fruit, never this jiggly American standard

I would watch TV with my brother, afternoon programming aimed at the kids — Gilligan’s Island, The Addams Family, Batman (kerpow!), and then the commercials would come on, commercials aimed at kids watching afterschool television.  Yes, you too can be popular if you drink Dr Pepper, stuff your face with Yodels and sit down to the wonderful family dinner of Swanson’s frozen mystery meat and peas.  My brother and I begged for a yodel or two, and my mother smiled at us as she served up her stuffed cabbage and or her gebroteneh (braised) chicken. Tea was served in a glass, sweetened with a spoon of strawberry jam.  I wanted to be American, I wanted to be a Pepper, and my parents insisted on all this Old Country food in the house.  I remember one time having a teenage rant, claiming my parents refused to embrace their new country by not buying junk food.

We brought back three of these boxes from England last time. Yes, there are 240 tea bags in each box.

At the age of 20 I left my Old Country behind and moved to Israel, where I could finally eat my fill of American junk food.  Yes, you read that right.  You see, Anglo immigrants may move their bodies to Israel, but go into their kitchens and you’ll find that a part of their culinary souls have refused to make aliya.  Anglos in Israel love their Old Country foods.  Americans who go back for a visit always return with a suitcase full of chocolate and other yummies from Shop Rite.  Brits smuggle in PG Tips and Marmite.  They’re even selling Entenmann’s donuts in Meatland in Ra’anana, charging a whopping NIS 50 (about 14 dollars).  We all do it, and I am guilty as well.  I remember one trip where I got caught at Kennedy airport with one suitcase full of chocolate and junk food (it was right after Halloween and everything was on sale) and another suitcase full of Slim Fast.  The woman x-raying my luggage commented, “Let me guess, first you eat everything in this suitcase, then you eat everything in that suitcase.”  Yup, that was the plan.

My precious box of Splenda

Come into the Miriyummy household and you will see hummus, za’atar, Telma cereals and Pri-Gat juice.  You will also see a huge box of PG Tips tea, a jar of Marmite, an occasional bottle of Newman’s Own salad dressing and my hoarded box of Splenda.  Ju-Boy brought me back a large box of baking Splenda on one of his trip to the States and I have been hoarding it, sparingly baking with it.  I want to use it, but I don’t want to use it up.  Can you understand my logic?

Didi and bestest friend Hilaly

Back in this post I wrote how my Didi has a bunch of friends who want me to name a Miriyummy creation after them.  One of Didi’s very bestest friends is Hilaly, who happily noshes on the Hadar Bars and Luscious Lambies in spite of the fact that these babies are packed full of sugar and she’s diabetic.  It drives her mom crazy!  It was time for Hilaly to have a confection of her own, and one she could indulge in without guilt or parental angst.  So when I asked her what she would prefer in her namesake nosh, she so very responsibly said, “Coffee, and Splenda!”  Oh no, not my Splenda!  She wants me to use up my Splenda!

Could you say no to these sweet darlings?

But I do have a soft spot for Hilaly, and I don’t want her getting into sugar trouble because of me, so I dug out my precious Splenda and came up with…

Hilaly Dollies

• 1 cup (200 grams) butter or margarine
• 2 eggs
• 4 tablespoons instant coffee (I use instant espresso powder, which makes these Dollies lethal!)
• 1 1/3 cup baking Splenda
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 300 grams sugar-free bittersweet chocolate, chopped finely

Cookies or science experiment?

1. Preheat the oven to 170 degrees C (350 degrees F).  Grease cookie sheets or line them with parchment paper.  Actually, forget about the greasing, just use parchment paper.  There’s something in the Splenda that makes these cookies look like a science experiment while they bake.  Trust me, it’s ugly, and messy, and you’ll thank me later for that parchment paper advice.
2. Cream together the butter, Splenda and coffee.
3. Beat in the eggs, vanilla and flour.  Mix until well blended.
4. Add the chocolate bits and combine with a wooden spoon.
5. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto the cookie sheet and bake for 10-12 minutes.  Don’t be afraid of them when they come out of the oven and look like rabid cookies foaming at the mouth.  They calm down after they cool off.

If you have these with a cup of joe on the side you may go into a coffee coma.  But what a way to go, huh?  Brits will enjoy this with a cup of tea, if they can bear to part with one of their PG Tips.