Purim commemorates Queen Esther's saving the Jews of Persia from extermination over 2500 years ago. It's a joyous celebration of survival, marked by special pastries called hamemtashen.
Hamentashen are named after the triangular hats worn by the enemies of the Jews. Theycome in two types: the danishy kind and the harder, cookie type. I prefer the pastry version. They actually look like tri-corn hats (think Paul Revere) and are filled with apricot jam. Some bakers add almonds and dates to the mix, but since I don't like nuts and dates give me the runs, I stick with jelly.
Growing up, I got spoiled. One of our big supermarket chains, Stop & Shop, was owned by Jews. Their store bakeries stocked hamentashen. Who would think that these delicious bits of pastry goodness would be avilable year round in goyishe New England?But they were.
Then I moved down to Florida.With one of the largest Jewish communities in the country,I expected similar luck. There wasn't a hamentash to be found. Not in Publix, not in Winne-Dixie, not even on Purim.
So I decided to make my own. Disaster. The Pillsbury Doughboy and I aren't really on poking terms. Rolling out the dough, shaping and filling it doesn't seem too hard, but the reality was that every year they'd fall aprt. I'd wind up with shapeless rolls topped with apricot jelly. Obviously, this baking thing was harder than it looked.
After years of culinary failures, this year I surrendered. I walked down to Winne-Dixie and bought some apricot turnovers. They are triangles-isoceles triangles- afterall. I said a kiddish over them, and prayed for peace between modern-day Israel and Iran. Then I bit into one. Bliss. It wasn't Stop & Shop, but it beat my past culinary efforts. And it was nice to think of Esther and the survival of the Jewish people, o this day, rather than my latest culinary disaster.
Take care,
Tracy
Hamentashen are named after the triangular hats worn by the enemies of the Jews. Theycome in two types: the danishy kind and the harder, cookie type. I prefer the pastry version. They actually look like tri-corn hats (think Paul Revere) and are filled with apricot jam. Some bakers add almonds and dates to the mix, but since I don't like nuts and dates give me the runs, I stick with jelly.
Growing up, I got spoiled. One of our big supermarket chains, Stop & Shop, was owned by Jews. Their store bakeries stocked hamentashen. Who would think that these delicious bits of pastry goodness would be avilable year round in goyishe New England?But they were.
Then I moved down to Florida.With one of the largest Jewish communities in the country,I expected similar luck. There wasn't a hamentash to be found. Not in Publix, not in Winne-Dixie, not even on Purim.
So I decided to make my own. Disaster. The Pillsbury Doughboy and I aren't really on poking terms. Rolling out the dough, shaping and filling it doesn't seem too hard, but the reality was that every year they'd fall aprt. I'd wind up with shapeless rolls topped with apricot jelly. Obviously, this baking thing was harder than it looked.
After years of culinary failures, this year I surrendered. I walked down to Winne-Dixie and bought some apricot turnovers. They are triangles-isoceles triangles- afterall. I said a kiddish over them, and prayed for peace between modern-day Israel and Iran. Then I bit into one. Bliss. It wasn't Stop & Shop, but it beat my past culinary efforts. And it was nice to think of Esther and the survival of the Jewish people, o this day, rather than my latest culinary disaster.
Take care,
Tracy
