I feel like I'm constantly ranting about how people always equate Jewish food with Eastern European food: matzoh balls and gefilte fish, bagel and lox. I didn't try matzoh ball soup until college, was introduced to lox at a weekend sleepover in elementary school (and thought it was really weird;
I've come around), and have yet to meet a gefilte fish I want to eat.
So, I wanted to share some photos from an event I participated in September. Having had so many "yes, I'm Jewish, and no, I never tried matzoh ball soup until college" conversations, I jumped at the chance to demo a traditional Iranian Jewish recipe at
A Taste of the East, a night welcoming Rosh Hashana -- the Jewish New Year, with flavors from The Middle East and Mediterranean. It was a night of dinner, music, and storytelling, all celebrating the culture of Sephardic Jews.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90gPivpfaAWNrsXjUGNfzQwqiRcRAeDacZXzgggU5pVseTapI1VRG15bXNhTZObhBoqpc9jQNyq_6pWMi7hJrCnEvbRTCFBhmloUJA6yLwbs5eXq6XipJjEpOskAJJnyTY05rvw/s640/east2.jpg) |
LISA GRISSOM |
I performed one of three demos of Sephardic Jewish food. Orly Olivier of
Petit Takett made Tunisian harissa, and Deborah Gorman of
Sorbabe made bourekas–Turkish-Greek cookies filled with ground walnuts and dipped in a sweet syrup. And I made
faloodeh sib–a refreshing combination of rosewater and shredded apples that is the traditional Yom Kippur fast-breaking food among Iranian Jews.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qtCop4fVO84gLRDFppLcXBFzkcROxXEi_06g9R5MiKeMX243qQb8MwLX3SFy7d1pkKRX3Ch1T8vTNeSJT7uBhShyj-tIXNC88_HymHP84gzCuL7_93pbT7bGVCGWdCwvreg23g/s640/east1.jpg) |
LISA GRISSOM |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9EIpThXOATaNfS0nWPaKu_FVVWnnCBCTVKTBZL0tV3O9vFGPbj9uIw3oUqpYPL_jtdio0E7HT4x6ogqBd3TKBpRaGPt_3-Wl47AmptfavEal0NxPR7BZXTfMq_Z89jvqOceObVA/s640/east4.jpg) |
LISA GRISSOM |
It was a great time. I'd never done anything like this before, but cooking and
chatting in an industrial kitchen with these ladies was a treat and an education, and sharing my family recipes with a warm, interested crowd, while being schooled on some foods that were new to me, felt wonderful.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1YZGzWsM7_4RNLllOAs8kKWThMLWL0Jh6G4JScJI-ZOEE06GtKCGUPWceoS1_Qw3sR_wcSWJMm5pG-0GLzkxLeDlIBZyWB-Y1p9ceCTAgP65Rnv464y9ydYybLh8jFNDd4C3WQ/s640/demo.jpg) |
NICOLE YOUNESI |
As people milled through the space, I stood at a table decorated with black and white photos of my grandparents and shredded apples against a box grater, and then added sugar, water, rosewater, and ice to perfectly balance the rosewater's intense aroma with just the right amount of sweet.
I had a couple friends, a few cousins, and my parents in attendance. I was really happy to have these familiar faces in the crowd when we arrived at the storytelling portion of the evening. I spoke about my uncle, a distinguished physician, affectionately known by his grandkids as "Lulu", who would leave Yom Kippur services at the synagogue early to go home and prepare
faloodeh sib for his family. I wasn't the only one tearing up as we remembered this sweet man.
Recalling old memories of food and family, as we make new ones with new friends. More of this, please.