Laying On The Schmaltz
Fat’s chance, again, courtesy of cookbook author Michael Ruhlman.
Michael Ruhlman is on a one-man crusade to bring back schmaltz. A bit surprising for a self-described “goy,” but the award-winning author of more than a dozen cookbooks has long considered himself a “pro-fat proselytizer in a fat-phobic land.” His newest book, “The Book of Schmaltz: Love Song to a Forgotten Fat” (Little, Brown and Company), is a single-minded ode to an ingredient on the verge of extinction.
For those unfamiliar with schmaltz — as Ruhlman himself was for much of his life — the Yiddish word refers to rendered chicken fat, a staple among Eastern European Jews. And it’s also a staple in some Jewish kitchens this time of year, when cooks are pumping out traditional holiday meals. Schmaltz was used both for kashrut reasons — lard wasn’t kosher and butter can’t be used with meat — and for availability — it was a natural byproduct of cooking chicken and therefore an economical choice.
Ruhlman bemoans how schmaltz has become so maligned in recent years, and how it has even developed negative connotations in today’s language.
“We’ve somehow created a meaning for schmaltz — and it’s the only one in the dictionary, that means overly sentimental,” he said. “There’s also a general fear of fat in America; I think it’s just more pronounced in the Jewish psyche. Somehow they do feel guilty about it and are trained to feel guilty about it and I think that’s wrong. It’s perfectly fine to use a long as you don’t eat bowlfuls of schmaltz.”
Ruhlman became familiar with schmaltz from his neighbor Lois, a 78-year-old Cleveland native who has cooked with schmaltz her whole life — as did her mother before her. After hearing her wax poetic about the fat, he knew he had to try it.
“The flavor that schmaltz gave to food was completely new and a revelation and a wonder,” he said, averring that the best schmaltz is made at home, not bought from a butcher. “You can only have this exquisite flavor when you go to the effort.”
He says he has gotten mostly positive feedback on the book, particularly from Jewish food gurus like Joan Nathan and Arthur Schwartz, from whom he says he is “grateful to have their blessing and use their work extensively throughout the book.”
Though some are surprised to hear a non-Jew writing about schmaltz, Ruhlman was particularly amused when a reporter from the Cleveland Jewish News “showed up at my house for a ‘Jew of the Week’ column, and I had to tell him I wasn’t Jewish.”
Ruhlman divided his book into two sections: traditional recipes and contemporary ones. The traditional ones are familiar to most Jews: potato kugel, kreplach, chopped liver — all infused with the flavor-boosting schmaltz. He even provides detailed, illustrated instructions for making cholent — from the “cholent mise en place” to final plating suggestions.
But in the second half, Ruhlman takes schmaltz to a place few Yiddish grandmothers ever imagined: Paté de foie gras en terrine, chicken rillettes and yes, even schmaltz-enhanced oatmeal cookies.
“I did [the cookies] mainly to show how versatile the fat can be,” he said with a laugh. “Everyone was scratching their heads over it until they made it and tasted it.”
Above all, Ruhlman is trying to keep alive a tradition he fears is nearly extinct.
“I think we’re probably one generation away from losing it altogether,” he said. “We haven’t appreciated it, we have denigrated it and it is hard to make. Lois [might be] the last generation to cook with it.” n
Parisienne Gnocchi with Spinach, Onion and Poached Egg
Recipes from “The Book of Schmaltz” by Michael Ruhlman
1 cup/240 milliliters chicken stock or water
½ cup/120 grams schmaltz
1 tsp. kosher salt
1 cup/140 grams all-purpose flour
4 to 5 large eggs
¼ cup chopped fresh soft herbs
(parsley, chives, tarragon, or chervil, or a combination)
To finish the dish:
2 tbsp./30 grams schmaltz, or as needed
1 Spanish onion, halved crosswise and thinly sliced
1 1/2 lbs./675 grams fresh spinach, stems removed
4 large eggs
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1. For the gnocchi, combine the stock, schmaltz, and salt in a medium saucepan over high heat. When the liquid reaches a simmer, lower the heat to medium and add the flour. Stir continuously until all the water has been absorbed and a uniform paste has formed. Continue to cook, stirring for another minute or two. Set the pot aside to cool for 5 minutes, or hold the bottom of the pan under cold running water to cool it enough so that the eggs don’t cook when you add them.
2. Crack an egg into the pan and quickly stir it to combine (it will be slick at first, but the paste will soon embrace the egg). Repeat with the remaining eggs (4 is standard, but 5 will make it richer). Stir in the herbs.
3. Bring a large pot of water to a boil (or use stock if you have it). Invert a large zipper-top plastic bag over your hand and use it to gather up all the pâte à choux, then re-invert the bag with the choux inside. Snip 1/2 inch/1.25 centimeters off one corner of the bag and pipe the dough into the simmering water (or stock), cutting the gnocchi off at 1 ½ inch/4-centimeter lengths. When they float to the surface, they’re done. Transfer them to a plate lined with a paper towel. Repeat with the remaining dough.
4. Set the gnocchi aside or toss them with a little oil or schmaltz to prevent them from sticking together. Proceed with the rest of the dish immediately, or chill or freeze the gnocchi until you’re ready to use them. To finish the dish, bring a pot of water to a simmer for the eggs.
5. Meanwhile, in a large sauté pan, melt the schmaltz over medium heat, and sauté the onion until completely cooked (give it a little color but don’t totally cook it down; you want some texture and bite). Add the gnocchi to the pan, along with more schmaltz if needed to help them to brown. They should turn an appealing golden brown after four or five minutes. When they look gorgeous, add the spinach.
6. Drop the eggs into the simmering water at this point as well, and reduce the heat to low. The eggs are poached when the white has completely solidified and the yolk is still fluid. Meanwhile, finish cooking the spinach by gently tossing it with the gnocchi and onion until it’s wilted. Give it all a pinch of salt and several grinds of pepper. Divide the gnocchi and spinach among 4 warm plates, and top each with a poached egg. Give the eggs one last pinch of salt and a grind of pepper and serve.
The Mighty Knish
Yield - Makes about 20 knishes
3 to 3 1/2 cups/450 grams all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 cup/120 grams schmaltz, well chilled (you can use vegetable oil if you wish)
1/2 cup/120 milliliters water
1 large egg
1 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 tsp. freshly ground black
1/3 cup/80 grams schmaltz, or more to taste
2 Spanish onions, finely diced
2 to 3 tsp. kosher salt, or more to taste
3 large russet potatoes (about 3 pounds/1.4 kilograms), peeled and cut into 6 to 8 pieces each or
4 cups/750 grams plain mashed or riced potatoes
1/4 cup/30 grams gribenes (optional)
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper, or more to taste
1 large egg, beaten
1 large egg whisked with 1 tbs. water
1. Make the dough: Combine the flour, baking powder and chilled schmaltz in the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and mix on medium-high speed until the fat is uniformly mixed into the flour. Stop the mixer and replace the paddle with the dough hook. Add the water, egg, salt and pepper (if using) and mix till the dough comes together, another minute or two. Shape the dough into a rectangle about 2 inches/5 centimeters thick, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or up to 24 hours.
2. Make the filling: Melt 1/4 cup/60 grams schmaltz in a large pot or Dutch oven over high heat. Add the onions, hit them with 1 teaspoon salt, and stir to coat them. Reduce the heat to low and let them cook, stirring occasionally, until they’re lightly browned, 1 to 1 1/2 hours.
3. Meanwhile, if you’re starting with raw potatoes, cover them with water and simmer till they’re completely tender, but not disintegrating, 20 to 30 minutes. Mash them by hand or pass them through a ricer or food mill. Set aside while the onions cook. The potatoes can be covered and refrigerated for up to a day, so this step can be done in advance. So can the onions, for that matter.
4. When the onions are nicely browned, add the potatoes, the gribenes (if using), another teaspoon of salt, and the pepper and stir to combine. Add a couple more tablespoons of schmaltz (don’t be stingy!). Taste and add more salt and pepper as needed. Remove from the heat and stir in the beaten egg. Transfer the potato filling to a bowl, cover and refrigerate until you’re ready to make the knishes — it will keep for up to 2 days.
5. Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C. Cut your chilled dough into three rectangles. Refrigerate two while you roll out the first one. Roll it out as thin as possible, preferably on a floured pastry cloth, into a rectangle 6 to 8 inches/15 to 20 centimeters wide and about twice as long. Trim the edges with a knife, pastry wheel or pizza cutter so that you have a uniform rectangle. (Save the trimmings if you want, to make additional knishes.)
6. Using one-third of the potato filling, form a log about 1 1/2 inches/4 centimeters in diameter. Place the log along one long edge of the dough rectangle, leaving 1-inch/3 centimeters space at either short end. Roll the dough over the potato filling and keep rolling till you have a neat tube, with the seam side down.
7. Using the edge of your hand, press down on the dough in gentle karate chop fashion, to form 3-inch/8-centimeter knishes. Be gentle but firm. Slice through the dough with a knife to separate the knishes and pinch their edges shut. Put them on a baking sheet and brush them with the egg wash. Repeat with the remaining dough rectangles and potato filling. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes.
8. Serve immediately. Or, if you want to serve the knishes later in the day, leave them at room temperature and then reheat them in the oven. Store cooled knishes in an airtight container or well wrapped in plastic in the refrigerator for 3 to 4 days or in the freezer for up to 3 weeks.