For years now, I have been hosting the Rosh Hashanah first night dinner. I started when making a holiday meal was just too much work for my mother. Initially, she still made the gefilte fish, the best I have ever tasted, but I did the rest of the work. My father would purchase the turkey so it could still be his dinner and to ensure for my mother's sake, that the meat was kosher. Often the gesture was more aggravation than it was worth. I shudder to think of what my father thought of me if he thought that I would cook non kosher meat when I knew how important it was to my mother. I remember one year when we were not a big group, he bought just half a turkey, leaving me to wonder how to roast just half a bird.
Fortunately, it did not take long to realize that no one in the family, other than my mother, knew how to make the fish. It was a tradition that I did not want to see vanish. At first, I asked for the recipe. It existed only in her head and in her taste buds. She could easily tell me the ingredients, but not the quantities. How did she know when it was right? By tasting the fish until the balance of sweet and salty was right. Because not everyone liked the sweet fish that my father preferred, she always made two separate batches, the obligatory sweet as well as the salt and pepper. I started the learning process by joining her each time she made the fish. I generally am not a slave to a recipe, but I need guidelines. I learned the ingredients in her recipe and the method, adding ice water to the ingredients and stirring by hand for at least an hour. However, it took a number of years until I managed to replicate the taste of my mother's fish. Often the salt and pepper batch lacked enough of either seasoning but the sweet was too watery. I checked each cookbook I had and sites on the internet for a recipe that could compare to my mother's. One recipe was based on 5 pounds of fish, another was too salty, another was too sweet. It was hard finding a recipe with the ground almond my mother used. I tried using parts of a variety of recipes, forgetting what combinations I had used the next time I stared at a bowl of raw ground fish. After a few years, I finally hit the right combination. I also prepare all the fish using my salt and pepper recipe and take off a portion to sweeten. I have finally found what works. I must remember to star that recipe and to note the changes I made so that I can recreate my mother's fish consistently.
This year's dinner was a huge success. I had finished all the preparations with a few hours to unwind before my guests came. Leah came the day before to help me put the extensions into the table and set it with the good china, crystal and the silver. The challah was prepared and frozen two weeks ago. I had completed most of the baking a week earlier. Over the weekend I made the soup and the kreplach. Monday, I made the gefilte fish. Tuesday, I brined the turkey and prepared the elements of the dessert. All that was left was to make was the potato kugel and the glazed vegetables, bake the thawed chalet, put the turkey in the oven and assemble the dessert. For the first time, I did not prepare too many dishes nor fret for two weeks before the event.
That is not too say that the dinner was flawless. I used wonton wrappers for the kreplach. Afraid that overstuffing the wrappers would lead to the kreplach opening during the cooking, I limited the chicken filling to only one teaspoon. They were not full enough and after they were cooked, I had to trim the extra flapping dough off each kreple. Because the oven was taken over by the turkey, I cooked the vegetables in the crock pot. You would think that six hours on low would be enough time. I did and I was wrong. Most of the vegetables were raw and the onions were still crisp and sharp in taste. I turned the crock pot on again after everyone had left and after another few hours a wonderful aroma wafted through the house and the vegetables, including the onions were soft and sweet. The dessert was heavenly and not as hard to prepare as I had imagined. In order to be done all the preparations at least an hour before guests arrived, I assembled the phyllo pastry layers and the tahini infused cream in the early afternoon. The taste of the halva mille feuilles was amazing, but sitting all afternoon, the pastry absorbed some of the moisture of the creme and was soggy rather than flakey.
Willie and his family, dog included arrived early to give Jackson, the dog, some time to acclimatize to the new surroundings. Shortly after that, Irv and his family, including a case of girl guide cookies. Unfortunately, Josh and Christine were in Alaska and I really missed their presence when everyone else was surrounded by their children and spouses. In the past, we had trouble finding a book with the Rosh Hashanah kiddish. This year Willie found it online and read it off the modern version of a siddur, his cell phone.
The dinner went well. The sarcasm and sniping were Non existent. Everyone was warm and friendly. Scarlett tried to feed and play with Jackson between courses. I was relieved that she did not find the size of the dog intimidating. After dinner, she put on her sales hat and everyone bought girl guide cookies. I was surprised, though, that anytime she had to make a food choice she asked Leah whether or not she liked what was being served. I served, Leah cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher after each course. I actually had time to enjoy the company. The challah was sweet and fluffy. The fish was a great success. Irv, who always claims that my cooking is good but not as good as our mother's said that it was the best fish I had ever made. The potato kugel vanished in no time and the turkey was moist and succulent. Unfortunately, I was the only one to enjoy the glazed vegetables after they had cooked for a sufficient length of time. The dessert was amazing. Even Anna who limited her intake to turkey and cranberry sauce, ate it. No one noticed the lack of flakiness in the pastry. And all the baking was delicious. The pinwheel cookies were a big hit. Irv wanted to take some home because they reminded him of the cookies that mom always made. Scarlett took the rest. No one got into a snit. Everyone was warm to one another. Only water was spilled (thankfully no tears). Nothing was forgotten. All the food prepared was served.
That is not to say that the dinner was perfect. I had brewed a pot of David's delicious iced tea and forgot to serve it until Cynthia turned down hot tea. I had put the candles on the table, but forgot to light them. A piece from a chair snapped off and I was quite casual about it. I chatted with everyone but spent a minimal amount of time in the kitchen and when I finally did go in, the leftovers were stored in the fridge, the serving platters were washed and the counters were cleaned. Leah had worked throughout the meal. I appreciated it and I know that Leah enjoys helping, but I wished that she had spent more time with the rest of us in the dining room.
In the past, I have been very tense during the dinners that I used to consider an ordeal rather than a celebration. I like to think that my calm made everyone else feel at ease and in the end the atmosphere was convivial. I wasn't darting around fussing about the final details. It was a relaxed and pleasant evening. I even got a little hug from Scarlett. Here was another occasion when I felt no need for a facade. I was comfortable just being myself. Medication, sleep and therapy have made a world of difference in how I see the world and react to it.
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