What is a shiksa, a goy, a lapsed Catholic doing writing one of the Crasstalk Passover recipes? Well, because it’s a chance to delve into history that’s not my own, and possibly become a better friend – by making asparagus and leek soup with a horseradish gremolata.
My best friend in high school, (oh, so many years ago), is Jewish. And she left our hometown in Vermont after marrying a nice Jewish boy who was going to be attending medical school in Alabama.
But before she left, she asked me to hold the huppah at her wedding. For those of you who aren’t already familiar with the huppah, picture a wedding tent with – as you might expect – four poles. Now picture a tent whose four poles aren’t pushed into the ground, but instead held up by loved ones of a bride and groom. My friend “Dana’s” future husband’s brothers held up three of the poles and I, who in 1992 was a whopping 125 pounds soaking wet, was holding up the fourth. The tent was over 50-feet long and so incredibly heavy that by the time “Dana” started down the aisle, my elbows had buckled. By the time she made it to her fiance, my arms were shaking uncontrollably, and men in the first row were mouthing the question, “Do you need help?” I shook my head, “No.” Because I could not physically unclench my fingers.
They were paralyzed, as if I’d been playing that children’s game in which you curl your fingers into someone else’s fingers and pull back hard for a few seconds and, (voila!), you have paralyzed fingers. I thought of that game the entire time my best friend was getting married. It distracted me from crying, though.
“Dana” left for Alabama the next week, and she has been down there for nearly 20 years. Since then, she has become incredibly involved in an Alabama synagogue, and that has brought out a new and much more religiously devout woman, a woman I am still getting to know.
So, when the idea of this post came up, I was thrilled. I love any chance to work with food. But, then it dawned on me that I know nothing about a traditional Passover meal, other than “no leavened bread.” And to write this article I had to do a lot of research, and put some thought into the meaning of the food that means so much to so many people. Now, at least I know that forbidden leavened products are called chametz.
I chose this recipe specifically for its spring ingredients (hello asparagus!) and for the fact that the maror, (a group of bitter herbs that symbolize the bitterness of slavery under the Pharohs), would marry perfectly with the asparagus. Instead of using the traditional freshly grated horseradish I used homemade prepared horseradish. (This is made by my grandmother, who makes it once a year in a dedicated blender. She doesn’t do this to make sure that the horseradish is kosher – she does it because the horseradish is so pungent that it can’t be washed away.) In a nod to the fact that many people who celebrate Passover have special dishes that they serve it from – dishes that have never had contact with chametz – I used a pretty soup bowl that my mother gave me. I’m not a hundred percent sure that it has never come into contact with chametz, but I’m 99% sure; She’s not a big fan of crackers or bread with soup.
And just putting this meal together has helped me feel a little bit closer to my friend in Alabama, who I’ve only seen a handful of times over the last two decades.
At any rate, posting a recipe for Passover is more useful to “Dana” than the time I helped her get married.
Asparagus and Leek Soup With a Horseradish Gremolata
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
- Olive oil
- Salt and pepper
- 1 large bunch of asparagus.
- 4 large leeks
- 1/4 cup of white wine (I used Pinot Grigio, but very few people will judge you if you use White Zin.)
- 4 cups of chicken broth
Gremolata
- 1 teaspoon of flat leaf parsley
- 1 teaspoon of lemon zest
- 1 teaspoon of prepared horseradish
- 1 teaspoon of diced shallots (Garlic is traditional, but I loathe it, so I substituted shallots.)
Trim asparagus by bending the stalk until it breaks naturally. Place asparagus on a sheet pan with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and salt and pepper. Roast the asparagus for 10 minutes, or until it has browned slightly. (You don’t want to overcook the asparagus, you just want it soft with color.) While the asparagus is cooking, wash the leeks thoroughly, slice them, and saute them in olive oil in a soup pot. Once they have wilted, add the white wine and cook until they are very soft. Chop the cooked asparagus in half and add to the soup pot. Add the chicken broth. Blend the vegetables and broth until smooth. Either do this in batches in a blender or use an emulsifier. Then heat the soup, ladle into bowls and add the horseradish, lemon zest, scallion, and parsley.
The soup is simple to make, and it’s very thin – nearly a consomme. But, it’s incredibly delicious, and the gremolata adds a layer of flavor that makes this little soup big and bold. This isn’t meant to be the centerpiece of a Passover meal, but it would make a lovely springlike and kosher beginning to a heavier dinner.
(Special thanks to DahlELama for her help.)
4 ounces of vodka (the better, the better)
Chop and crush one tablespoon of fresh mint and six or seven slivers of fresh ginger. Put two ice cubes in a large glass. Add two shots ginger ale and stir vigorously to make a quick infusion. Add two shots “good” bourbon (Basil Hayden or Knob Creek are preferred, but Rebel Yell is good too. Note for the poors: Rebel Yell is cheaper than most bottom shelf whiskeys and it’s the best of the bunch, even served just on the rocks. Note to snobs: don’t knock it till you’re poor enough to try it). Add one drop of bitters and a few slivers more fresh ginger for a crunchy, spicy treat.
Treat a rocks glass like a margarita glass and rim it with salt. Then add equal parts vodka to pink grapefruit juice.
, Lawrence Sanders, 1987, Berkley Books
, Lawrence Sanders, 1988, Berkley Books
