Wasting Food in the Name of Science

Jewish Press 2/6/2009

 

Late in December, my family suddenly informs me that I have to come home. Although I normally welcome holiday travel like a hefty attack of the stomach flu, this time I have no choice. Flying by myself under the circumstances is a very bad idea, so I decide to take my daughter Isabella along. As soon as I share my plans with her, the panic sets in. “What about the Science Fair?” she asks, and I quickly check the calendar. Late February, so I think we’ll be okay. Once she hears there is very little chance we’ll be gone that long, she relaxes.  “Besides,” I say, “you can do your experiments in Holland, can’t you? I’m sure it’ll be very inspiring.”  When I introduce the topic to my family, they are more than game to play their part. My brother knows a great science museum, and my sister immediately starts making plans. In spite of the fact that our list of famous painters is roughly three times as long, there have been some great scientists in the lowlands. From Huygens to Leeghwater to Van Leeuwenhoek, there are plenty of good role models to choose from. Didn’t Descartes live in Leiden for over twenty years? Maybe she can build her own microscope, or a hydraulic dam, or dissect a tulip bulb. Maybe she can build a miniature (working) windmill. With popsicle sticks.

“No,” she says,  “I want to watch green beans rot.”

Fantastic. Why is it that science experiments always involve all things gross and disgusting? I envision a filthy decomposing pile of rubbish on my mother’s kitchen counter, and sigh. “I’m sure grandma will be delighted,” I say, and hope for the best. My mother, when I give her the good news, doesn’t seem fazed. This is probably because she doesn’t remember anything about children and the messes they make. No worries, she will find out soon enough.

Over the next few days, while we anxiously await our departure, my sister prepares several dishes with raw and partially cooked beans. My brother offers us a forgotten piece of bell pepper that he discovered in the back of his fridge. “No, thanks,” I tell him, “we’re only doing beans.”  Soon, photographs of said beans start to arrive on my email, and discussions about my father’s illness are interspersed with comments about mold and questions about whether the outside experiment will be eaten by those famous Amsterdam pigeons. Once we arrive in Holland, we take daily photographs of beans that rot, beans that freeze, beans that get covered in snow, and beans that dry out. Not to be outdone in the nastiness-department, our son busies himself with a few experiments of his own: he throws about eight farm fresh eggs down the stairs at an uncle’s house, then quickly follows this up with a “stick your finger in the bunny cage and see what happens” investigation. That’s okay; this trip, everybody gets a chance to shine. Besides, it’s handy to know that eggs, when thrown down the stairs onto a concrete floor, will break every time, and that bunnies don’t know the difference between a juicy carrot and a finger.

It occurs to me that we were all ready to be a little distracted from the situation we found ourselves in; we just didn’t know how until the Friedel Science Fair threw us a lifeline. 

Hanukkah 2007

What Do You Put on Your Latke?

By Annette van de Kamp-Wright

 

 

 

On December 6, 2007, it was time for Friedel Jewish Academy’s annual Hanukkah Play.  Visitors, who came out en masse in spite of the less than perfect weather, were treated to

“The Chefs and Saba’s Special Box”.  Hebrew and Judaic Studies teachers Na’ama Artzi and Eadie Tsabari wrote the play, and they should get a medal for getting all students involved.  Children from K through 6^th grade delivered their lines in Hebrew, while those in the audience that aren’t quite as fluent received an explanation in English.  The different acts centered on famous Jewish chefs, schoolchildren being visited by grandparents with a suitcase full of dreidels, and, of course, those nasty Greeks had to make an appearance.  The play also included a special visitor:  First grade teacher Angie Mass drew the short straw and was hoisted into a Curious George suit, which looked like very hard work: imagine a few miles of faux fur under the glare of the stage lights, and you can imagine that Angie’s dedication to the school was proven beyond a doubt.

            From the first Act until the very end, Latkes were the focus of everyone’s attention.  The great Latke debate occurs year after year, and the question of what the best topping is never gets a satisfactory answer. What do you put on them, the student-actors asked, Ketchup, or chocolate? Even the audience was asked to interact and many offered their favorite toppings, ranging from the classic applesauce or sour cream, to sugar and jelly.  The one thing everybody did agree on was the amazing talent displayed by the Friedel students; they can sing, they can dance, and they can act.  Audience member Rabbi Yonathan Gross enjoyed the show: “Friedel is the most important Jewish institution in the State of Nebraska”, he said. “Without a Jewish Day School, the community has no future”.

            The Latke dilemma sort of stayed with me all evening, and the next day, while visiting Friedel for the world famous Latke Day, I decided to ask a few more people about their preferences.  ‘Latke Day’ is Friedel’s annual chance to open its doors to the community; students, teachers and parents, community volunteers and, last but not least, board members, get together to cook and eat. Every year, the ingredients for the Friedel Latkes are donated by Bag ‘n Save.  Due to the school’s impressive growth, the actual cooking this year was done in the Blumkin kitchen, after which the Latkes were schlepped back to the school’s Commons.  Thanks to staff and parents things went smoothly, and many mouths were fed.  One of Friedel’s parents, Sarah Wiseman (an applesauce advocate) volunteered all day long. “To me, Latkes represent a lot of hard work”, she said, “but it also means bringing the whole family together.” Sarah has a daughter, Destiny, who attends Kindergarten at Friedel.  Also in Kindergarten is Zoë Berman, whose mother, Beth Cohen, helped out by frying Latkes.  Beth likes hers with apple sauce and sour cream: “It’s just one of those Jewish things that brings the family together”, she says, “and I love coming to the school.  It’s so fascinating to see how fast and how much Hebrew Zoë is learning.”

            Even Rabbi’s have their preferences when it comes to what to put on the Latke. Rabbi Gross’ vote goes to applesauce: “Choosing applesauce signifies that you are sturdy on the outside, like the apple, but also that you can be pressed down into something more soft, like applesauce.  At the same time, apples come in many different hues, but once pressed, you can’t tell the difference anymore. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”  Rabbi Gross finished his argument by saying that “Apples have seeds, so they represent growth.”  This is true; one cannot grow a tree out of sour cream. 

            So far, applesauce seemed to be the favorite for most; I had to ask a few more people before I received any original answers.  However, when I spoke with Kim Goldberg, I hit the jackpot.  She likes hers with Grape Jelly. Kim is the mother of Lily Goldberg, who is a Friedel First Grader.  Teacher Na’ama Artzi likes her with Israeli salad, which my family immediately tried at home, and we can vouch for it.  Nancy Kutler is a PTO member and mother of Sarah, who reprised her role as Antiochus in the Hanukkah play.  Nancy has never tried anything ‘weird’ on her latkes.  Bev Fellman came to share lunch with her granddaughter Gabby Witkowski, who attends First grade. Bev has a son-in-law who once upon a time used ketchup, or so the legend goes. Gaston Bogomolni, father of Samuel, doesn’t put anything on his Latkes.  However, he does have a tip for the cooks among us: put some eggshell in the pan and the oil won’t soak your latkes.  Larry Novak, father of Sammy (K) and Rebecca (3^rd grade) likes honey on his Latkes, which begs the question: can you put applesauce on your apples for Rosh Hashanah?

            Naturally, it is principal Cookie Katskee who is the most opinionated: “I like my Latkes crisp and thin.  Then I want a smooth layer of sour cream, topped with applesauce.  The strangest thing I have ever heard someone put on their Latkes is mustard.”  According to Cookie, the Latke holds a special place among holiday foods: “When you compare the latke with, for instance, the Hamantaschen, the Latke wins hands down.  The Latke has a personality; take my husband Roy, for example. He eats them for breakfast with strawberry jam, weeks after Hanukkah is over and done with.  Latkes rock.”

            The many people who visited Friedel on Latke Day probably agree; hopefully it is a tradition we all get to enjoy for years to come.  With or without applesauce.