Food, food culture, food as culture and the cultures that grow our food

Smoke yer marijuanakkah, it’s time to celebrate Chanukkah

December 22, 2006

Latkes vintage '69 made by Mother of Culiblog
Latkes prepared in 1969 and preserved for lifetime use

The continental posse is curious about my visit back to the Heimatt and has requested some reflection on my own personal hotbed of culinary inspiration.

When it comes to holiday cooking, Mom (not her real name) says, ‘You only need to make latkes once in your life.’ Latkes are potato pancakes, ashkenazic rösti invented in the 19th century - but you’d think some First Nation Abraham had designed them himself, considering all the sentimental fuss about a greasy wad of carbohydrate.

My family’s recipe involves frying up one big-ass batch of latkes before the birth of the first child and freezing it ration-style in aluminium foil pouches. For each successive year for the rest of your life, defrost as needed and reheat the latkes in the microwave, not unlike our ancestors did back in the day in Lodz, Barcelona and merry Kiev. Served with non-fat yoghurt and wholly un-sweetened, raw cranberry relish, you’ve got yersself a traditional Chanukkah snack that will roll the eyeballs into the upper reaches of your head. Charmless, musty and sour, it’s all about the effort, the actual result is of far lesser importance.

Family banding
Meanwhile, inefficient, first-generation, à la minute courgette latkes fuel the fambly banding practice

In a music room bunker deep under the earth’s crust, the Solomon family practices its three-song holiday repetoire featuring one work each by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Violent Femmes and Lynyrd Skynyrd. No need to remove our reading glasses, it’s all about the volume and the atmosphere is wholesome. Continental Auntie does tend to make liberal use of the ‘f’ word in front of the chilluns but I argue that the word ‘friggin’ just makes you think ‘fuqn’ anyway and is equally an ‘f’ word. The older generation insists that cussing in Yiddish is in no way déclassée. Whatevs.

Noe valley matzah factory
Il n’y a pas de trop, Santa is a big, fat, gay Jew.

The above image shows one of Santa’s ritual unleavened bread factories in Noë Valley. Festive landscaping lures stay-at-home moms to line up outside and donate the blood of their young children. The blood is stored in vats until springtime and used in an 18 minute start-to-finish baking process for the production of Passover matzah.

California, show yer teeth. Tonight is the last night of Chanukkah.
After re-using, recycle
Somewhat tasteful recycling and re-using in the Valejo Noë

the talent
This nephew knows way more than three songs and still allows us to play with him.

Girlfriends and art direction
When not fighting off a bevy of tweener-girls, this nephew practices being aloof and art directs the fambly films, still and music videos.

debra at 20:53 | | post to


  1. * toda raba, en jaaa, please, more ! the amsterdam posse loooves a little birthday latke chez toi *

    Comment by *y* — December 28, 2006 @ 0:19

  2. Hey there you big fat gay Jew …;-)
    Hope you had a happy happy birthday!

    Comment by Kristi — December 29, 2006 @ 13:54

  3. I’m the gayest and the fattest of ‘em all.

    Comment by debra — March 15, 2007 @ 16:29

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