Rice cake. From my Mother's kitchen. I haven't eaten it in the last fifty years.
4 comments:
Anonymous
said...
This is not a difficult dish to make - just milk, rice, eggs, sugar, butter. Maybe some raisins or not. My mother used to make something similar. You could make it in your kitchen but it will never be the same as the cake of memory.
By the way, with Passover coming up, rice is forbidden to Ashkenazim during the holiday (it is not hametz but falls in the category of "kitniyot" - little seeds that RESEMBLE forbidden grains - this is enough to condemn them in the eyes of the Rabbis) but Sephardic rabbis allowed it because without it the poor would have nothing to eat, rice being the staple of the eastern diet. In Israel, the Ashkenazic rabbis accepted the Sephardi position to further the unity of the people. So in the supermarket I can buy bags of rice imported from Israel marked Kosher l'Pesach except they aren't here in America.
Judaism (unlike the death cult called Islam) always puts life ahead of all other requirements - the Torah is a book to live by, not to die by (thus the rules of kashrut are bent so the poor can eat). There was an article about anorexia among the ultra-Orthodox in the NY Times and the rabbi they interviewed, with a long beard, said that because this was a potentially life threatening disease, those afflicted with it could drive to counseling sessions on Shabbos, even eat treyf food, if that was needed for their treatment.
I have read the article and I already have noticed the extreme thinness of local religious teenagers. Even after two or three births they look like skinny boys. I cant explain it to myself. I have a tentative impression that Ashkenazi religious people have more eating disorders than the general population here, but I am not sure. The availability of food is causing us problems, I remember the "sandwiches" we ate in my infancy: a piece of unpalatable bread with a tiny spread of butter or chicken fat. With paprika to give it some taste and color.
I sometime imagine trying to explain this to my father - why people starve themselves in the midst of plenty, or conversely, why they gorge themselves to obesity. I can't explain it. He had a healthy relationship with food for someone who had almost starved to death.
4 comments:
This is not a difficult dish to make - just milk, rice, eggs, sugar, butter. Maybe some raisins or not. My mother used to make something similar. You could make it in your kitchen but it will never be the same as the cake of memory.
K
By the way, with Passover coming up, rice is forbidden to Ashkenazim during the holiday (it is not hametz but falls in the category of "kitniyot" - little seeds that RESEMBLE forbidden grains - this is enough to condemn them in the eyes of the Rabbis) but Sephardic rabbis allowed it because without it the poor would have nothing to eat, rice being the staple of the eastern diet. In Israel, the Ashkenazic rabbis accepted the Sephardi position to further the unity of the people. So in the supermarket I can buy bags of rice imported from Israel marked Kosher l'Pesach except they aren't here in America.
Judaism (unlike the death cult called Islam) always puts life ahead of all other requirements - the Torah is a book to live by, not to die by (thus the rules of kashrut are bent so the poor can eat). There was an article about anorexia among the ultra-Orthodox in the NY Times and the rabbi they interviewed, with a long beard, said that because this was a potentially life threatening disease, those afflicted with it could drive to counseling sessions on Shabbos, even eat treyf food, if that was needed for their treatment.
K
I have read the article and I already have noticed the extreme thinness of local religious teenagers. Even after two or three births they look like skinny boys. I cant explain it to myself. I have a tentative impression that Ashkenazi religious people have more eating disorders than the general population here, but I am not sure. The availability of food is causing us problems, I remember the "sandwiches" we ate in my infancy: a piece of unpalatable bread with a tiny spread of butter or chicken fat. With paprika to give it some taste and color.
I sometime imagine trying to explain this to my father - why people starve themselves in the midst of plenty, or conversely, why they gorge themselves to obesity. I can't explain it. He had a healthy relationship with food for someone who had almost starved to death.
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