Let Them Eat Cake ( with apologies to Marie Antoinette)

In most families everyone has a signature dish, our family is no exception. When I  reflect on my family gatherings and food, I am spiraled back to  a whole  space of childhood memories, of smell and flavors that would arouse anyone’s pallet . I come from a family where food was important, twice a week I would visit each set of grandparents  for a meal, Tuesday was Grandma Anne and Grandpa Bobby, Grandma Anne  was not a gourmet cook by any standards, but she made the best grilled fish and mashed potatoes I have ever tasted, her Klops or meat loaf with rice and potatoes was stick to your ribs hearty food, but the pinnacle was her Yorkshire pudding  which magically rose to giddy heights every time tantalizing the young taste buds of my cousins and I!   
Grandma Renee, loved being in the kitchen, she made meltingly succulent roast lamb with home made mint sauce, meat pies, and stuffed rolled place parcels  in a lemon and parsley sauce that I secretly prayed she would serve each week!! The recipe for her crumbly fruit "lunch" cake died with her and its one of my greatest culinary regrets that try as I might i could never reproduce this wondrous dish,
When my mothers family got together each of the three sister my grandmother and I  would produce our  "special"  desert   lest the over laden table didn’t  give us enough calories .
My mother is famed for her bannoffie  pie, also  her three tier incredibly gooey and delightful chocolate fudge cake ( so amazing that even after my parents were divorced my father would ask me  “is your mother making  you a chocolate cake for your birthday?” and when I answered in the affirmative he would say “sneak me a piece”.)
My Aunt Helen would arrive with a baked new York style cheese cake that was so soft and light and creamy with that great crunchy base that would be wolfed down as soon as it was placed on the table.
To my mind no one in the world can make a plate apple pie like my Aunt Alma, try as I can and believe me over the years I have tried, no one or nothing can replicate  the crisp light yet crunchy melt in your mouth pastry partnered with perfectly cooked lightly sweetened apples served warm with vanilla ice cream.   
I was always tasked to make my black forest gateaux time release sherry trifle , or original bake well tarts and  always flapjacks ( the British version).

Despite all this  no family simcha  was ever complete without my grandmother   arriving with an enormous tray of her honey cake. She arrived at Yom Tov , family meals, birthdays, engagements, Brits,  and "family get together s"  with a sometimes slightly tinged but always made with her entire heart,  honey cake, tray clutched in her hands; to distribute with unconditional love to all her family and friends. 
If you were lucky enough to visit my grandmother on baking day you could watch her beat this magical cake mixture together while telling you about her day, as we sat together  in the lounge; drinking tea . awaiting the moment to pull the cake from the oven. the fragrance of warm honey and cinnamon would waft around her flat tempting one and all. 

Its getting to that time of year when we all start searching for a recipe  &  baking honey cake, this is my healthy version of my grandmothers cake, I hope when you make it and share it you will invoke or create delightful memories  for all your family and friends. Remember  this care is made to share  with a smile to one and all, after all  if you are a grandmother you want nothing more  than to  add sweetness to your family’s life at any time of the year( but especially at the  beginning Ellul ) so what better way to do it than  letting them eat (healthy) cake!

Bubba Silvers Honey Cake (Spelt Version)

No mixer needed make by hand like my Grandma!
3 Eggs
1 1/3 cups organic  honey
1 1/2 cups  organic brown  sugar
1 cup strong black coffee
2 tsps. Baking powder
1 cup good quality organic sunflower oil. 1 tsp. Baking soda
4 cups whole grain organic spelt flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon all spice
½ teaspoon dry ginger
Flaked almonds (optional)
A large helping of family pride and love (essential!!)


How to make it!
1. Preheat oven to 325./170/ gas mark 3.
2. Line grease and flour a 9 by 13-inch cake pan. 
3. In a large bowl, beat eggs and honey together.
4. Add sugar and mix again. 
5. Mix coffee with baking powder, and then add with the oil  to the egg mixture. 
6. Add baking soda, flour, and spices and beat together well. with  a big smile  and a large helping of family pride and love!
7. Pour into lined and prepared cake pan sprinkle almonds on top.
8. Bake for 55 minutes to an hour. Test with a tooth  pick to check its done

Libriout לבריאות

No hospital visit is pleasant, and out patients  departments are at the best of times crowded, people  feel stressed , agitated by long waits,  But inside the Sharret building ( oncology ) of Hadassah En kerem there is a calmness, as one waits in the pleasantly air conditioned waiting area for your number and colour to be called over the loud speaker.
All  staff in this department from the security on the door, the receptionists,  ancillary staff to the medical team nurses radiologists phlebotomists  Doctors   must be hand picked for their efficacy, language skills, decorum and warmth. 
This is the waiting room of hope, on the surface there is no despair, everyone sits giving encouraging smiles or nods of the head to the other patients . A drinks machine maintained by a local charity dispenses free teas and coffees to the awaiting crowd, while calming silent smiling volunteers with the air of pure gentleness glide between each patient and their family’s offering home made humas and cucumber sandwiches for those waiting to see the doctor.  
 It is here that fleeting  friendships are made, as cancer knows no ethnic or cultural boundaries, it isn’t subject to age size or income it is a leveler of all. Here Arab Christian  and Jew, sit side by side, here the  Haridim, Dati lumi ,traditional observant and the non observant  exchange greetings, news, names for tefillias along with fruit chewing gum and  anti nausea remedies . 
Here the “newbies” are gently schooled into the routine by the vetrans, who offer silent encouragement to the  often terrified newly diagnosed. 
There is a low mumble of chatter and a continual hum of the statutory news  program on TV, Although some people  visiting the unit are indeed running out of time, there is no jostling for places, the majority entertain themselves as they wait , knitting, greeting their “hospital friends” making kippots some people read books or Kindles some read tehillim, chat or sleep, others like me escape into the high tec world of their lap tops.
Patients support patients, family’s support families , some come with huge entourages others like myself chose to come alone, but  `no one is alone here, as  all over, even in  the lift as it  takes you too and from the various departments within the building there is the opportunity to give and receive support, to dry someone’s tears; to briefly squeeze a hand to nod smile and mouth or  say  “ libriout geveret “ to someone who up to an hour before was an unknown stranger, but is now your comrade in the battle for complete  health.
Far from a place of despair and defeat  this state of the arc building houses, fighters  of immense  courage and strength , dedication,  medical miracles  and optimism.  on both the part of the medical team and the patients who in a partnership work step by step  towards each and every patients  destiny.  
This is an incredibly  special building that houses  faith hope and love.
Libriout….everyone  Libriout.

I'm Proud of You

Recently I spoke to my son and said to him, “I’m proud of you”…”Why ?”he asked . I am proud of you because at the age of 27, you are a healthy normal young man. I am proud of you because you are a good husband and excellent father. I am proud of you because you are employed in a job you love. I am proud of you because you have established yourself in a new country, new city, and contribute in your own not so little way to the community when ever you can. I am proud of you because you wear your Kippa with pride all the time. I am proud of you because you don’t indulge in any anti social behavior, do drugs or overdo booze. I am proud of you because you have provided your wife and son with a home, shelter on your own back. I am proud of you for your strong sense of right and wrong. I am proud of your artistic skills, the way you cook, photograph , your eye for colour, your writing skills. I am proud of you for your wacky sense of humor I am proud of you for the way you are loyal to your friends. I am proud of you because you have got where you are despite a rocky start despite the chips being stacked against you educationally , financially and socially you have succeeded in becoming your own man, you haven’t opted out of society, but are very much part of it. I am proud of you in a million ways every second of every day. So when I say I am proud of you , please don’t dismiss it, please don’t say why? Just allow your mother to say quite simply I love you and I am so so proud of you because you are you….

In Remembrance

At eleven o clock this morning I stood in silence on the road between Masu'ot Itshak and Kafa Etzion as the siren sounded reminding the whole country to stand reflect and honor the members of the Israeli defense forces who gave their lives for the country. As I stood in the sun listening to the silence and stillness all around, I saw three military airplanes fly past in formation; whether it was this sudden unexpected act, or looking around at the cars parked at the entrance to the Kefar Etzion cemetery, or the people standing by their stationary cars on this country lane,I felt the enormity of the situation: Here in Israel there is hardly a family that hasn’t lost a son or daughter, mother or father, cousin or friend in the fight for our country. Too many mothers have lost sons too many fathers have said Kaddish for their own gibor…hero. Unlike the UK whose soldiers are honored on a cold blustery November morning when the royal family dressed somberly in black gather at the eleventh hour to unassumingly and somewhat in a detached manner honor the dead ,Here in Israel, the day before we celebrate the countries birth, we take time out to remember, honor and salute the people who made it possible. For that one minute, as the siren wails the country stops still, as if we are all joined in one enormous nationwide circle, each with their own private thoughts, we stand proudly and painfully in silence morning our countries dead. I was just one person on the roadside, I was just one person with tears pricking their eyes sending up my personal gratitude to the unbeknown to me heroes of the country, I pray that we lose no more lives in our struggle to survive.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR BLONK

Happy Birthday “Mr. Blonk.”
“Mr. Blonk” was one of the nick names I had for my father,
I think it sprung out of a TV show, but
I can’t quite remember; My father
was born on the 28 December 1926, had he lived
he would have been 85 this year;
My father was creative, funny, a gentleman and the
ultimate foodie; he turned his appreciation for good food into an art form, he
had learnt internalized & forgotten what others struggled to learn about
food and wine; to my benefit he was insistent that from the earliest age that I
knew what wine would go with what food, within which correct shape glass and at
what temperature,
I also was schooled in which desert followed what kind
of food, how to choose, cook carve and serve what cut of meat. how to select
vegetables, seasoning and spices, the
meanings of sauté, al dente, alfresco dining the difference between roast and
braise all before the age of ten!
While other children’s “daddy time “ was a trip to the
zoo, or the swimming pool, mine was spent in exclusive delicatessens,
chocolatiers , green grocers or beverage importers sampling freshly imported cheese, handmade
chocolates , softly squeezing avocados( a luxury in the austerity of post war 1950’s Britain) , or
sniffing the aroma of freshly ground
coffee while selecting the prefect pastry to accompany it. Bed time stories were
not full of witches and princesses but chapters from Auguste Escoffier much
loved and well thumbed” Le Guide Culinaire” or “Mrs. Beaton’s Guide To Household
Management”.
Born into a comfortable middle class assimilated Jewish
family, to a highly educated, cultured and refined mother my father developed
his tastes for all things culinary at an early age; one could say he wasn’t
born with a silver spoon in his mouth but rather a pastry fork in each hand.
Mr. Blonk had some very strong gastronomic all abiding
rules,
·
He never ate touched
or went near anything that came out of water, being violently allergic to fish
·
Nothing came out of
a packet, therefore Sherry trifle would be made with a homemade cake base, and
fresh fruit, vanilla infused proper custard, a rich ruby sherry, and double
whipped jersey cream.
·
He endeavored to eat
local fresh produce in season a trend that is now very much in vogue!
·
He believed in buying
the freshest and finest ingredients he
could afford.
·
He believed that food is
for sharing, with family and friends the people next door, and all around the
community.

Yet for all his love of international haute cuisine;
there was nothing my father loved better than a well-produced traditional home
cooked meal.
One of my father’s all-time favorites was Klops ( Polish meat loaf )
served with an onion or mushroom gravy roast potatoes and steamed al dente vegetables.
This Friday night in my father’s honor I am making the
following meal, with a modernized and slightly healthy slant. However as m y
Fathers meals were loaded with butter cream white sugar, over the years I have
introduced a healthier slant, also I now change ingredients in accordance with Kashrut
Egg& Onion, Chopped Liver, with home - made sweet
pickle .cucumbers
Polish Klops,
with Mr. Blonks mushroom sauce,
Honey ginger roasted Jerusalem Artichokes
Minted Baby new
potatoes
Steamed Zuchini
& carrots al dents
Spinach and Avocado & Pecan salad
Followed by hot gluten free double chocolate and banana sponge
cake with vanilla custard ( parave)
After Eights, Whiskey and De caffeinated Earl Grey
infused with lavender
A meal my father would adore!
Mr. Blonk, traveled all over the UK working as an
antique jeweler, he was an expert in Victorian jewelry, in the days before cell phones he would call me every
night from his hotel and always tell me what was on the menu. , At the weekends
he might slowly cook a “stifado” or Roast a perfect joint of beef but more
often or not he would wait for me to return from working a week in the city, we
would eat one meal out and shop and he would rest while I produced a meal for a
very exacting gourmet, then at a perfectly laid table, he would tell me all
about his week and vise a versa.
His untimely death at the age of 56, one year before his
grandsons birth, was extremely sudden, but not unexpected, I am sure he is
watching over me and my kitchen:, moreover has passed down his creativity and
love of good food to the much more health conscious innovative grandson he never met but would
have been oh so proud of.
So Happy Birthday “Mr. Blonk”, rest assured your legacy
lives on.

Rachelle Silver
22.December 2011




Polish Klops.
1 kilo good ground beef
1 cup fresh parsley
1 carrot grated
3 cloves garlic crushed
1 onion grated
1 zucchini grated
1 cup ground or processed corn flakes, or you can use whole
wheat matzo meal
4 eggs, 2 hard boiled and shelled 2 beaten
Crushed black pepper
Sea salt.
Put the oven on to 180 c gas mark 4 350 F to warm
Hard boil 2 eggs for
10 minutes put into cold water once cooked shell
and put a side.
Place all the ingredients apart from the hard boiled eggs in a
large mixing bowl and mix well.
Wet your hands with cold water, and shape the meat mixture
in to a large oval shape a bit like an American football, placing the hard
boiled eggs in the middle ensuring they are well covered.
Place in a large oven proof dish, cover with silver foil,
roast for 75-80minutes removing the foil for the last 30 minutes to allow the
outside to form a crust.
Serve sliced so the slice of meat loaf shows the egg, with
mushroom sauce. Jacket or roast potatoes, roast parsnips, steamed vegetables
pureed artichokes.
Mr. Blonks Mushroom Sauce
1lb button mushrooms checked washed sliced
1 large onion diced finely
4 cloves garlic crushed
½ desert spoon extra virgin olive oil
1 desert spoon oat meal
Black pepper
Sea salt.
I cup chopped parsley
½ glass white wine or light dry sherry
I tea spoon organic gluten free vegan soup powder. (Optional)
Juice of half a lemon
½ cup water
½ cup rice soya or oat milk


Heat the oil add the onions and garlic and cool till
transparent, add the mushrooms and cook off for 3-4 minutes, add the wine, soup
powder parsley lemon juice salt and pepper, cook off the mushrooms produce a
lot of natural liquid, add the seasoning and the oat meal and stir, add water
and cook for 15 minutes on a low light then add soya milk and simmer for 5
minutes, it should be a consistency of gravy. Serve hot with the Klops.

Make a photo album

BATH TIME SHARED

Bath time a grand mothers joy, today with advances in technology the 12209 kilometers or 7587 miles between my grandson & I can be “reduced” by the daily uploading of video’s of his antics and development.

For me these videos keep my updated, and I scan my inbox religiously to check for the latest installment in my “Mr. Yummy’s” life. These delightful daily doses not only keep me up-to-date with his development and talents, they warm my heart as his giggles and smiles fill my screen.

I am certainly in danger of becoming an Eitan bore to my friends, as I rattle on about how he eats a banana, boogies to music, plays with his shape sorter; but I make no apologies as that is normal behavior for any grandmother, I know mine did it and I wasn’t separated from her by an ocean but by a couple of streets!

Nowadays, more and more families are separated, living on the opposite side of the world from your family is no longer considered to be out of the ordinary, in fact the reverse is happening. The number of my friends that have their grandchildren living within the same town, city or country is limited, as our children spread their wings across the world.

Who loses out I wonder? not the totally the grandparents as we adjust to the situation, placate an aching heart with photo’s ,video’s and Skype, but I do wonder what this generation of virtual grandchildren will feel ,without the ability to run into those special grandparent arms, to pop round after school for a special treat, to have that day out at the beach or shopping or at the library with the grandparents , to have the surprise of grandma picking them up from school and whisking them off for an illicit ice-cream.

For this generation of international grandchildren a visit to grandparents has to be planned, there is no room for spontaneity when the flight alone takes over ten hours.

For this generation, videos, photo’s and Skype take over the majority of the time from personal contact.

For this generation knowing the delights of the smells from their grandma’s kitchen, or the hiding places within their grandparent’s house and garden is replaced by a wave into a webcam, an email, and a faded picture.

Please don’t get me wrong I love the daily updates,

I am so thankful that I have a healthy happy and of course clever (grandma’s pride) little man who part of me living in this world, and I take pleasure in his growth and development daily.

It is just so long since I have held this little man in my arms and told him how unique he is, It is so long since I have taken care of him, it is so long since I have felt like a real not virtual Safta ,that sometimes I do worry, that my grandson who sees less of me than I do of him will not know who I am, and all the special love I have to offer him.

We are planning a trip, maybe in six months when I am stronger , when I will visit my munchkin , it wont be a sight seeing trip, will be one of fantastic mundane every day things where I will share time at the park, or in the play ground, walking the dog, story time , playing, shopping , cooking and eating together. We will for a short time build memories and I will be a 100% real live interactive grandmother to this precious little boy. I hope my visit will show my grandson how special he is to me , make it easier for him to know me.

But until then excuse me, I have another video to watch. and gloat over and enjoy so I can share the delightful "Mr Yummy's "Bath time!