One of my favorite Chanukah songs, one which many Hebrew students in recent years seem to enjoy, is the Latke Song, by the late songwriter Debbie Friedman. The chorus is the repeated message: “I am a latke, I’m a latke, and I’m waiting for Chanukah to come.” For many of us, one thing we look forward to at this winter holiday season, is these tasty potato pancakes fried in oil. They are supposed to remind us of the miraculous tale of the small cruse of oil that lasted for eight days when the Maccabees reclaimed the Temple and rededicated it to the service of the Lord. Eating latkes on Chanukah, of course, is not a biblical or even a rabbinic commandment whether served with sour cream or applesauce. But like all Jewish traditions, old or new, a creative mind can find a biblical source or connection or at least link them to our Jewish values.
In Debby Friedman’s song, after noting that each holiday has its customary foods, she emphasizes Judaism’s traditional concern that those less fortunate than we be included in the holiday celebrations. Even the humble latke can remind us of our obligations to care for others. As the final stanza of the song concludes, “We must remember those who have so little, We must help them, we must be the ones to feed.” The same message is found in the passage about the major biblical festivals in Deuteronomy where we are clearly enjoined to include the Levite, the stranger, the orphan and the widow in our celebrations. This song extends that message beyond the three biblical pilgrimage festivals to the later rabbinically ordained holiday of Chanukah as well.
“Latke” is a Yiddish term which the linguistic mavens tell us comes from the East Slavic word “oladka,” a diminutive of ‘oladya” which is a small fried pancake. That word derives in turn from Hellenistic Greek, “eladion,”(olive) oil, itself a diminutive of Ancient Greek “elaion” oil. How appropriate that the term for this Chanukah dish derives from the ancient Hellenistic culture with which the Maccabees were struggling.
In Modern Hebrew, latkes are called Levivot. That term appears in the Bible in the book of Second Samuel, chapter 13, in the story of Amnon and Tamar. Tamar, the sister of Absalom is desired by her half-brother Amnon, King David’s oldest son. So Amnon feigns illness and when his father comes to see him, he requests that the King have Tamar “come and prepare a couple of levivot in front of me and let her bring them to me.” Levivot here may be cakes of some kind or, perhaps dumplings. These levivot are never eaten, but are purely a means for Amnon to have his way with his half sister and then, adding insult to injury, throwing her out his house. More tragic events follow when her brother Absalom seeks revenge for his sister’s disgrace. However, the levivot are not to blame for the intrigues in the royal family of David. We don’t know what these levivot were made of, but Rashi suggests, that they were made of fine flour mixed with boiling water and then fried in oil.
Levivot are mentioned in various later texts as well including Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, his code of law, where he includes levivot among the foods made of flour which require the blessing of borei minei mezonot, praising God who creates various kinds of sustenance. Levivot in connection with Chanukah do not appear until the 14th century where they are mentioned in a poem by Kalonymus ben Kalonymus ben Meir from 1322. The poem begins: “In the ninth month, in Kislev (his voice raised) in order to honor Matityah ben Yohanan the renowned and the Hasmoneans, the important women should gather, knowledgeable about making food and cooking levivot, large and round the whole size of the frying pan, and their appearance good and ruddy, like the appearance of the rainbow. They bake the dough and make different kinds of tasty food from the mixture…and drinking should be what is proper for festivals, with joy over every single cup to convey evil to Niqanor and Bagris and suffering to Antiochus.”
Matityah ben Yohanan is the father of Judah Maccabee and his four brothers. The family is known as the Hasmoneans, while Niqanor and Bagris are generals serving under the King Antiochus IV according to an ancient work entitled the Scroll of Antiochus, Megillat Antiochus, which is found in some traditional siddurim. All are seen as villains in the Chanukah story. Of course, these early levivot or latkes were not made from potatoes since that food had not yet crossed the Atlantic to Europe. Scholars assume that these were cheese latkes, since we find mention in various law codes that one should have dairy products, milk and cheese, on Chanukah recalling the rabbinic version of the story of Judith that I wrote about last week. In one rabbinic version she feeds the enemy ruler, salty cheese, leading him to overcompensate with wine. When he falls asleep, Judith takes his sword and cuts off his head in this story leading to victory over the enemy. The food historians suggest that these latkes were made of sweet ricotta cheese, popular in southern Rome and were known as cassola.
Cheese latkes were displaced by potatoes which were often less expensive when this formerly unknown plant arrived in Eastern Europe from the new world and became generally available in the early 19th century. Potato pancakes were generally fried in shmaltz, rendered fat from geese or chicken, the most readily available cooking fat of the time. One was not allowed, of course, to cook cheese latkes in shmaltz in violation of the prohibition of mixing meat and dairy products. Unfortunately, sour cream topping was also forbidden with this kind of cooking fat. Apparently various vegetables were used for latkes over the years including carrot and turnips, but potatoes often became a staple in impoverished Jewish homes.
According to the late food historian Gil Marks, these latkes were known at first by the jaw-breaking name of kartoffelpfannkuchen and later as kartoffel latkes and finally as simply latkes. Other forms of shortening or vegetable oil took the place of shmaltz over the years and different cooks continue to try out new recipes with a variety of vegetables and other ingredients. Whichever recipe one follows, whatever variety of latke one chooses, the link to Chanukah is primarily through the oil. One can debate over the toppings and also whether to use grated potatoes or the pureed variety, but Chanukah without latkes seems to be lacking something special.
As a student in Israel in the late ‘60s, however, I was a little surprised to find that latkes or levivot if you prefer, appeared on the menu in some restaurants year-round. What was distinctively a Chanukah treat over there and increasingly here as well were sufganiyot, jelly donuts, also deep-fried in oil. The donuts I had in Israel then seemed to have more of a crunch than Dunkin and were delicious. Friends have posted pictures in more recent years of the overwhelming variety of sufganiyot that are now available in some bakeries in Israel. Strangely enough the word “sufganin” along with something called “isqarin” also appear in that 14th century poem, but we cannot be sure what kind of food the poet had in mind though he says that they were made from fine wheat flour.
As for me, while sufganiyot are a tasty treat for dessert, I’ll have to join Debbie in proclaiming, “I am a latke!” It is those potato pancakes which bring back memories of past Chanukahs, family gatherings, and the fragrance of fried potatoes and onions that can’t be beat. Our chief latke chef here at the Temple, DJ, filled the building earlier this week with that lovely aroma and we will enjoy the fruit of his labor next week for Kiddush on Shabbat Chanukah. Come and join us. Chag Urim Sameach! A very happy Chanukah to all.
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