Chanukah in August
Going cross-cultural with latkes in Canada
“Gut yontif!” I said cheerily to Manja, Al, and Margo, Manja’s mother, who was joining us for a festive Chanukah dinner last summer. “Happy holiday!” I added as we clinked our wine glasses.
I was in Edwards, Ontario. Al and Manja, who own a flower farm, were my Workaway hosts there. And while it wasn’t actually Chanukah in August, it felt like it.
Last week, Al had been permitted “off leash” at Costco. In other words, according to Manja, he came home with too much of everything. When I spotted the big box of small, beautiful new potatoes, I smiled, thinking they would be delicious roasted or boiled. But the five kilograms of apples made me think of something else that goes well with potatoes. I suggested to Manja that they might enjoy my potato latkes, or potato pancakes, especially accompanied by homemade applesauce.
I went on to explain the tradition of serving latkes at Chanukah. While I’m not Jewish, I have been preparing Chanukah meals ever since marrying Jim, my Jewish husband of 39 years. At least I have that qualification.
Workaway experiences are meant to be cross-cultural, and this was my opportunity to share something completely novel with my Canadian host family, whose own heritage is Dutch. Manja loved the idea, and Al thought everything I proposed sounded delicious, so it was game on. They invited Margo so she could enjoy the occasion, too.
Al’s first task was to rummage through their 20-cubic-foot basement freezer until he unearthed a roast from their stockpile supplied by one of their hunting nephews. He returned triumphant with a shoulder roast, saying he would cook it in the Instant Pot. That would pair nicely with my latkes.
The day of our dinner arrived. I greeted Manja first thing that morning with a big grin and a “Happy Chanukah!” Then I got busy in the kitchen. I peeled about eight small apples, diced them, and set them to simmer on the back burner. Next came a salad with garden-fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, plus kidney beans, yellow bell pepper, and small chunks of feta cheese. I snipped green string beans, blanched them, and left them in a covered skillet, ready to be sautéed with sliced almonds later.
Of course, a holiday dinner must include dessert. Since I was in Canada, I decided to make Manja’s favorite, a quintessential Canadian treat: butter tarts. In Ontario, many folks are wild about this comforting pastry. There are butter tart trails that lead aficionados to bakeries and festivals across the province. Annual competitions for the very tastiest butter tarts award small cash prizes across a range of categories.
Butter tarts are typically cute little individual mini pies, with a simple pastry and a sweet, satisfying filling of sugar, eggs, and butter. Whether or not to add raisins or other ingredients can be hotly contested, but it mattered not this time. Manja loves hers with pecans.
My recipe originated with the Junior League of Toronto, so at least it’s authentic. Instead of individual tarts, this was a no-fuss bar version, with the filling spread over a shortbread crust in a nine-inch square pan. I had only made it once before, so I was unsure about the baking time. When it looked golden brown and set, I carried it to Manja who was working at her laptop in the next room.
“I need a pair of Canadian eyes, please. Does this look done to you?”
“Exactly right,” she answered. Great. I let the pan cool.
After fixing cheddar scrambled eggs and home fries for everyone’s lunch, I took the grandkids to the park down the street for about an hour. Once we got back and the kids went home with their mom, I still had several hours before dinner. I took out the KitchenAid and made sure it would cooperate when it came time to shred all those tiny taters.
By the time Margo arrived, everything was ready. Al set the dials on the Instant Pot, poured us all a glass of wine, and we relaxed in the living room. Everyone was curious about Chanukah, and I did my best to tell the story of the miracle of the oil that lasted eight days, the dreidel game, and jackpots of chocolate coins.
Eventually, it was time for the latkes. I’m proud to say they were a big hit, especially with the warm applesauce topping. Al’s roast was fork-tender and delicious, and the green beans and almonds disappeared quickly.
And the butter tarts? Gone without a trace!
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