Dear mom,

You and dad are seriously inspiring. I only hope that I’ll be using my time with such competence when I’m your age.

I started this response a few weeks ago, right after your letter. I wrote that I’m questioning my time competency… I think I’m not as good as you and dad. Then school stuff stole me away and I forgot about the letter completely.

I’ve been spending most of my time around a big table in a room called B1, my school’s new media hole. It smells like dirty boy scalp, fries and cigarettes. My classmates and I sit there with our headphones on, hunched over computers, only looking up when an instructor walks into the room or when someone brings snacks. Zainab says it looks like the game hungry hungry hippos. It’s much more pathetic than that.

I was questioning my time competency because I feel like school is sucking time so so quickly. It’s like I enter a tunnel and all the sudden hours have gone by and it’s hard to get out. Even when I really have to pee. I dance in my chair making just one more edit until things become dire.

If my next UTI comes from homework, I’m going to feel really sad about my life. I only have two more years of my twenties! Why am I spending all my time hunched over a computer?

I don’t know. It’s fun?

But it is fun.

school peeps in Denver

sometimes I get to go outside

I’m not in B1 right now. It’s spring break, so obviously I’m on a plane headed somewhere warm and sunny. I’m ready to work my ass off.

this is what every class looks like. all those tangerine peels…

Sorry I’m so intense. Next time I’m home I’ll try to find a grandkid you can rent.

xo,

Shaina

Poppy seed cake

I wanted to save this recipe for Passover time, but at the current rate of our letter-writing, I figured that my next letter might not be until after the holiday.

I learned this recipe from Nahum in the last half of our fishballs lesson when I was in Jerusalem this winter. It’s his mom’s special cake. When you make it, you have to pray so her soul can be elevated. Or something. Nahum says it better:

This is one of my favorite cakes. It’s light and spongy and not super sweet. It also fits everyone’s weird dietary stuff – gluten free, grain-free, dairy free. Definitely try it for Passover… which will be here before we know it. Time goes crazy fast!

• 1 1⁄2 cup poppy seeds, GROUND
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 6 eggs separated, at room temperature
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 7 stick of butter or canola oil, melted and cooled
• 1/3 cup raisins and/or sliced almonds, optional

Grease a 9 inch pan and preheat oven to 300 F.

Grind the poppy seeds in food processor or coffee grinder until sticky. Combine with baking powder in large bowl.

Beat egg yolks until thick, slowly adding sugar, salt and vanilla. Add butter and poppy seeds and raisins/almonds. Mix until combined.

With a separate whisk (electric mixer is best) and clean bowl, beat egg whites until stiff (look for peaks). Gently fold the whites into the poppy batter and pour into pan. Bake for about 45 minutes or until the cake passes the clean toothpick test. Cool before serving and dust with powdered sugar if you wanna be fancy.

Meyer lemon poppy cashew cream

This is my weird vegan, paleo, raw take on the poppy theme. It’s a slightly sweet, ultra luxurious lemon poppy cream made with only four ingredients: cashews, lemon, raisins and poppy seeds.

• 3 cups cashews, soaked in water overnight
• ½ cup water
• ½ cup – 1 cup raisins (I prefer less sweet, so I use ½ cup)
• juice and zest of 1 meyer lemon
• 1 cup poppy seeds, ground

Soak cashews in water for 5 hours or overnight. Rinse well and add to food processor with ½ cup water, dates, lemon juice and lemon zest. Puree until smooth and creamy. Add ground poppy seeds (use food processor or coffee grinder to grind seeds prior to this step) and mix into the cashew cream.

I layered it with overnight oats soaked in cinnamon and almond milk + green apple + raisins for a very luxurious breakfast. Almost better than eating cake!

It also works as filling for a raw poppy cheesecake with a cinnamon, walnut base. Also Passover friendly!

Dear Shaina,

My life is a blur! A month in Portland setting up a teeny condo in a 100 year old building, that we arrived at sight unseen, with a key, two suitcases full of dishes and an air mattress, a few towels, sheets and some forks (I forgot to pack the knives and spoons).

Late night arrival

Are we out of our minds? As dad says, “Taking risks and acting foolish are for the young…and the old!” We have arrived! Dad’s new guiding principle is “time competence”. Using your time competently translates into “do the things you want to do now”! There just isn’t enough time left to be wasteful of this precious commodity.

The air mattress from hell!

So, we did it! After a couple of rough nights on the air mattress, multiple visits to the thrift store, furniture stores and hours and days spent navigating the IKEA maze, we began to settle in. A comfy mattress arrived, a chair and table were picked up at the thrift store, a Murphy bed was ordered, the IKEA team delivered a truckload and in a blink of an eye we had a bed, night tables, quilts, pillows, a coffee table and lots of other goodies.

Our first chair…from the thrift store.

We worked tirelessly cleaning, putting together, hanging, organizing and walking back and forth to the hardware store enough times to become familiar faces. Our neighborhood offered us access to everything we needed on foot…a coffee shop across the street with wifi, numerous restaurants, bars and grocery stores, nail places, a barber shop, beauty salons, an independent movie theater, yoga studios, spas, a library, even a shoe repair place, and three synagogues all within blocks of our condo. We set out to explore all the neighborhood offerings and barely touched the surface. It was exciting and energizing and pleasantly exhausting.

Portland’s charm…raindrops and rainbows

Then we took a break…Dad off to Park City with the boys and me off to Berkeley with my girl. It was a first for us in some ways; the first time I stayed in your home, the first time I slept in your bed with you, the first time you orchestrated a mini-vacation for me. We went to a yoga class, saw a movie, sat in on one of your classes and “played” mahjong with your friends. I walked your neighborhood and shopped your grocery stores. I stepped into the routine of your life for a few days in the midst of my own chaotic escapade. I slept really well in your bed! Thank you!

There is something to be said about embarking on a new adventure…at any age. I got unstuck. I see new possibilities and options and opportunities. Living in a small space wasn’t confining. Using my feet to run errands, buy groceries, get my haircut, pick up a prescription or go to a yoga class made me feel more connected to my life and the people that I encountered along the way. I love the way Portland lives!

Feeling like home.

We are back in Bham and comfortably slipping into our usual routines. I love the spaciousness of our home and the closeness of family and good friends. Getting into the car to go wherever you want has its advantages. Shabbat dinners, Monday mahjong, Tuesday and Thursday minyan/walking group, Book Club, yoga and all the rest live fully in my Bham life. I am grateful to have so many options and to know that there is a lot of life to be enjoyed wherever I am.

Love,
Mom
oxoxoxoxo
Riced Cauliflower with Mushrooms and Herbs

Although I did entertain a few times in Portland (mostly wine and Trader Joes hors d’oeuvres), I never really cooked a full meal. That changed once we got back to Bham and Shabbat offered the opportunity to reunite with family and friends. I wanted to do something simple, but tasty and healthy. I had heard about substituting cauliflower for rice, but wasn’t sure exactly how that would work. I tried it and loved it! It is healthy and will work in any recipe that calls for rice. I happened to have some portobello mushrooms, so this recipe evolved from there.

The “rice” can be made ahead of time and stored in the refrigerator until you need it.

Riced Cauliflower with Mushrooms and Herbs

• 1 whole cauliflower
• 1 yellow onion
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon fresh minced garlic
• 12 ounces portobello mushrooms
• salt and pepper to taste
• 3-4 green onions, cut uo in 1/4” pieces
• fresh basil, chopped
• fresh parsley, chopped
• fresh dill, chopped
• 1/2 cup roasted cashews (optional)

Wash and core cauliflower and break up into large chunks no bigger than 2-3”. Fill food processor no more than 3/4 full with cauliflower chunks. Pulse processing blade to chop cauliflower into rice sized pieces. Set aside or store in the refrigerator in a covered bowl until ready to use.

Chop the onion into small pieces and drop into a large preheated sauté pan. Sear the onions over medium heat until the moisture from the onions cooks off. Add one tablespoon of oil and the garlic to the onions and continuing sautéing until they are cooked, but not overdone. Remove form the pan and set aside.

Cut up or chop the portobello mushrooms into small pieces and drop into the heated sauté pan and cook until tender. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove from pan and mix together with onions and garlic.

Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the pan and add the “riced” cauliflower. Cook over medium flame, stirring frequently until tender, but a little chewy, about 5-10 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Stir in mushroom and onion mixture and continue cooking for another 5-7 minutes. Add chopped green onions, fresh herbs to taste and mix together. Garnish with roasted cashews if desired.

Serve heated or at room temperature.

This dish tastes even better the next day after all the flavors have come together.

Dear mom,

I’m writing from Ben Gurion airport snacking on Bamba about to board my flight home. Two weeks in Israel – my shortest trip yet! It’s a blur.

Also, this post has audio — here’s a preview: 

Each time I’m in Jerusalem, I find a new pocket holding its own world. This time, that pocket was my project. It belonged to midwives, mothers-to-be and new mothers. Many of them were understandably reluctant to speak with me and, for the first time, I was asked to turn off my recorder right in the juicy middle of interviews. Figuring out the right balance of friendly and assertive + respectful and relentless is not an easy job.

The takeaway: I want to be midwife when I grow up… Is it too late? What other work matches the satisfaction of bringing life into the world?

When I wasn’t in the magical world of childbirth, I was with the fam. In the past three years, I feel like I’ve seen more of the family in Israel than I’ve seen in Birmingham. So lucky!

I got my routine initiation into Israeli salads and time zone with Hanoch and Edna, ate kreplach and chulent with the whole 20-person Pardes Hanna crew and even caught up with Ran and Nurit.

Most of my family time, though, was with Tan and Nahum. I can’t tell you how stuck I would have been without them. They fed me, drove me places early in the morning and late at night, helped me (an understatement) with my project, entertained me, fed me, fed me and fed me. They are amazing and SO MUCH FUN.

I’ve wanted a cooking lesson from Nahum for years. Every Saturday he cooks elaborate meals for his family and during my last Shabbat in Jerusalem he let me tag along. He’s a serious foodie. 

I met Tan and Nahum in the Shuk with my microphone on Friday morning. I found Nahum around a table of men drinking Arak and smoking cigars. I used to live right outside the Shuk so I know it well. I have my nut person, my old/rotten veggies person, my natural foods person, my grain person.

But Nahum takes Shuk intimacy to a whole new level.

click on the audio below to hear this guy singing to us

CLICK TO LISTEN TO NAHUM’S VEGETABLE GUY⇓

The characters of Shuk are Nahum’s best friends. He only buys from the best and most expensive vendors.

CLICK TO LISTEN ⇓

Afterwards, we cooked. Nahum showed me how to make fish balls – his own recipe inspired by his father’s gefilte fish + Jewish North African culinary traditions.

JOIN US ⇓

Now it’s back to reality. I’m sure there are just as many characters chilling in Berkeley Bowl as there are in the Jerusalem shuk, but it’s just not the same.

CLICK TO LISTEN ⇓

I’m including audio in this recipe, so don’t forget to click the play buttons!

xo,

Shaina

These fish balls are inspired by Nahum’s father’s gefilte fish recipe:

Fish Balls Chraime

Serves: many

Prep time: 1 hour

Fish Balls:

• zest of one lemon
• chili flakes

 

Check the consistency of the sauce. If you want it thicker, cook it down some more. When the sauce is ready, place the fish balls into it and cook for 10- 12 minutes.

 

When finished, serve fish balls over plenty of sauce with a chunk of white challah to soak it up.

 

Ps. Nahum’s thoughts on Judaism

The story goes: Bubbe and Zayde were new to Birmingham when Riva and Isaac came to town.  Zayde heard Riva’s maiden name was Schuster and arranged to meet at the Jewish Community Center. “He said he’s wearing a yellow shirt and I said I had white hair!” Riva said. “And I found a beautiful femily!”

Turns out the Hirschs are not related to our Schusters. But after surviving the Holocaust with few living blood relatives, makeshift familial attachments to other survivors was important for both couples. Riva and Bubbe kvelled and kvetched like sisters.

CLICK TO LISTEN ⇓

The letter below was written by my cousin Rebecca several years ago following the first Yom Kippur after Bubbe died. As we ate Riva’s knishes, so similar but different than the ones Bubbe fed us, we thought of Bubbe. We missed her schtink of fried onions and big hugs.  Last week, we finally got around to cooking with Riva. Bubbe was definitely “proud on us.”

CLICK TO LISTEN ⇓

** Click the play button for for short sounds of our knish adventure. ++ Be sure to scroll all the way to the recipe for a step-by-step sound guide on mixing, kneading and folding knishes.

Dear Esther and Shaina,

There is no tie that holds my family closer together than our love of food. Whether we are the ones that spend hours upon hours in the kitchen, or show up just in time to get that hot out of the oven knish, we simply love food. This love comes out even when we fast during Yom Kippur.

“Beckelah, did you try mine knishes? Dey different from Mamala’s. I put mine mit dill.” Those words mean one thing: it’s time to break the fast.

The Schuster-Shealy fam has been breaking the fast with our close friends: The Hirsch-Perlstein fam for almost 30 years. Or as their grandmother Riva likes to say “Of course you come break the fast mit us, ve are family!”

At each and every break fast, Riva is the one to greet you at the door and in the most loving way start demanding: “come, zit, eat mamaleh. You need to eat. Here come eat mine knishes.” Around the age of 7, I’m pretty sure I was able to respond with “yeah I know, they are different than Bubbe’s—you make them with dill.”

Despite the differences in the recipe, no knish will ever be as satisfying to me as those of my Bubbe or of Riva. As my dad likes to say “this is the food of our homeland.” The simplicity yet the complexity of potato mixed with garlic and honions (onions), wrapped up in an hoily (oily) dough and baked until golden perfection was and is such a formidable part of my childhood. I loved when my mom would get the phone call that it was time to come to Bubbe’s to pick up the knishes. And after stuffing our faces with them by the dozen, Bubbe would, without fail, ask “Tell me kids are dey edible?”

6 hands, 1 knish

Sometimes, I was even lucky enough to partake in the process of making the knishes. Nothing was more exciting than knish making time—when Bubbe would make 100s upon 100s of knishes.

Here are some of the important rules and memories from the times I spent “working” in Bubbe’s kitchen:

• No fressing, no lessing, no shmecking (if you ever made it to my Bubbe’s house, you know about this sign)
• You just need a little bit of hoil (translation: Bubbe’s version of a little bit of oil equaled about a gallon of it per batch of dough)
• Speaking of dough: “You can use dis dough for anyting—kreplach, strudel, blintzes, knishes, anyting you want.”
• Where is your shmata? (Head covering)
• Mine Rebecelah, go rest, you young, I don’t want you to be tired. Let Bubbe make you someting to eat. You da baby of da family and you need to rest.

Sometimes, sometimes, if I was really lucky, I was deemed the brown paper bag girl. I had the critical role of unfolding brown grocery bags to place the finished knish on to soak up any hoil. After laying out a bag or two, I had to go back to resting on the couch and eating in case I was tired or hungry. That’s one thing I learned for sure—there was no one more important to Bubbe than her grandchildren. And she would be damned if anyone did anything to make our lives even the slightest bit difficult. Everything she did spoke unconditional love for “her seven grandchildren. Dey are the hair dat I breathe.”

While we often joke about her crazy kitchen routines, her hour long monologues about her grandchildren, and so many other “Bubbisms,” I am so thankful to have had a grandmother in my life who demonstrated each and every day what it looks like to love another person unconditionally. She was our biggest fan and protector, and we knew it with every bite of that knish that she spent hours making just right.

While Bubbe is no longer with us today, I know she is just as happy watching three of her grandchildren enjoying her best friend Riva’s knishes together just the other week at break fast. Whenever I get to spend time with my siblings and cousins, I smile just thinking of how Bubbe is kvelling. Especially when we are eating, because heaven forbid “you lost veight.”

xo,

Rebecca

Riva’s Knishes

Potato filling

• 8 potatoes
• 1 tbs margarine
• two onions, finely chopped.
• salt to taste
• black pepper to taste

Peel and boil potatoes in salter water until soft. In saucepan, melt margarine and sautee onions until translucent. In large bowl, mash potatoes with onions, salt and pepper until soft. NO CHUNKS! Use a stick blender if you have one (different from bubbe’s, Riva’s knish filling is smooth and fluffy).

Dough

• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup oil
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp vinegar
• 1/2 cup lukewarm water
• 2 cups all purpose flour
• pinch of salt

Beat one egg in large bowl. Add oil, baking soda and lukewarm water in that order. Mix well. Add two cups flour and a pinch of salt and knead into dough.

Assembly instructions:

Preheat over to 350 and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Separate dough into three parts and roll into pickle/hot dog shaped logs. Cover with towel to keep moist.

Roll one section of dough into elongated oval shape on floured surface. Brush dough with melted margarine. Cut dough in half. Pile a thick 1/2 inch of potato mixture onto each cut of dough. Stretch dough over the filling and press edges together.

After edges are tucked in and there are no holes, flip over onto baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Again, brush top of dough with margarine and generously sprinkle will dried dill. Bake for 35 minutes until top is golden. Once cool, slice into two inch pieces for individual knishes. Serve as forshpeiz or hearty nosh in between meals.

Riva likes to make potato salad out of leftover potato filling. She mixes it with mayo and hardboiled eggs. She’s definitely from the old country.

Dear mom,

My letter was a commitment to not saying sorry and you came back with a whole apology manifesto. You’re old. For someone who still caters meals for 25+ people, still stays up past midnight, still goes to loud concerts, still walks miles at 6 am, still carries vodka miniatures around in your purse, you’re old. You’re allowed to complain about it.

Maybe all your complaining is coming out now because you held it in for so long. I feel like during your working life, you were too busy to pay attention to your feelings. When you slowed down, you learned how to stretch and sense your muscles and realized they hurt? I don’t know. My muscles hurt often. I think I act the most elderly between the both of us.

You and dad having more stamina than I do when it comes to staying out late partying. I get sleepy. Or worried. Either I’m too lame for my age or you’re too wild for your age.

Health is tricky. I want to preserve my body and enjoy my life without becoming too nutty. I want to run long distances + I want my knees to work for a long time. I want to eat everything + I want my body to be able to do everything. I want to have fun all the time + I want to be functional and productive all the time. Balance isn’t really my thing though.

I’m in the airport on my way home for a quick visit before heading out of the country again. I’m way unprepared and still have a long list of to-do’s trailing me from this past semester. So feel free to complain all you want… I’ll have my headphones on in the other room hunched over my computer like a normal super cool 27-year-old on vacation. Going wild.

Xo,

Shaina

Speaking of health and balance and that thing you call moderation, here’s a recipe that meets all the requirements: vegan, gluten free, paleo, grain free and completely raw. I made it as a healthy alternative to sticky holiday sweets…  in reality it functioned as a good addition to them. #yolo

Raw Pumpkin Pie Puree

• 1 ½ cup pumpkin seeds, soaked
• ½ cup almonds, soaked
• 1 cup unsweetened coconut (shreds/chips)
• 1/3 cup water
• 4 – 7 dates depending on desired sweetness (I go with less sweet)
• 1 inch piece of fresh ginger (more if you like a little kick)
• 1 tsp cinnamon powder
• generous dash of nutmeg
• generous pinch (or 2 or 3) of good salt

Immerse nuts and seeds in water and let soak for at least 7 hours (or overnight). Drain and rinse well. Add all ingredients to food processor and blend until creamy. It takes time to break up the coconut, so keep pureeing until you get a creamy consistency. Add more water if the mixture gets stuck.

I made a ton of this stuff toward the end of the semester. I brought it to class as a dip with sweet potato chips, and then to friends with chopped apples. My roommate stirred it into oats for a creamy, spunky porridge. One friend said she ate it with a spoon like cookie dough. I enjoyed it with sweet persimmons, blended into my spinach smoothies and, as always, a garnish atop my yogurt bowl.