Soda.  Pop.  Coke.  S.S.B. (sugar-sweetened beverage).  Whatever you wanna call it, it’s bad for you.  Or so argues Mark Bittman, the New York Times‘ “Minimalist” columnist and prominent foodie in this Sunday’s New York Times.  This phenomenal article poses the question of whether soda may be the next tobacco.  He interviews proponents calling for a special excise tax on soda to fund obesity prevention programs, as well as other measures to curb the intake of these empty calories in a can (or bottle).  The article comes after Michelle Obama’s appointment to lead a national campaign against childhood obesity, which some believe is linked to an excessive consumption of soda and candy.

Though I am no longer a child and do not suffer from obesity, I am embarrassed to admit that I am a near-daily consumer of soda – specifically, Dr. Pepper (ahhh…).  Therefore, this article was of personal interest to me.  Would an extra tax on soda, or the appearance of a cigarette-esque warning label on soda, deter me from feeding my addiction (and I do believe it is an addiction) to the stuff?

I am envious of friends that are naturally repulsed by soda, and who are likely healthier due to their avoidance of it.  It is a vice that I would gladly live without, though as with any addiction, it is not easy to quit.  Of course, my addiction is not helped by the ubiquity of soda advertisements in our society.  Indeed, the soda marketing people usually are successful at targeting those receptors in my brain that displace the long-term goal of being healthy and avoiding diabetes with the short-term goal of chemically-induced instant gratification.

Perhaps, though, I have found a happy medium that will wean me off of soda for good.  A friend and fellow soda “junkie” turned me onto a sodium- and calorie-free drink sold at Target and CostCo.  It is called “LaCroix Water,” and is essentially carbonated water with several fruit-flavor options.  Furthermore, they sell it in a 12-oz. can, which provides the same gratification as holding a cold 12-oz. can of Dr. Pepper…but leads to a healthier result.

Although human beings are conscious individuals with the ability to make informed decisions on what to consume, we also have areas of weakness (even Superman could be brought down by Kryptonite).  Unfortunately, Big Food – as Bittman calls the soda and snack food industry – knows this, and they depend on it for their revenue.  If the government can help empower individuals (especially children and their parents) to make healthier decisions and avoid these unhealthy chemical substances, then I will be grateful.

Indeed, if I hadn’t been introduced to Soda as a child, my affair with the dark sugary liquid would not have lasted as long as it has.

I don’t wish to disappoint anyone, but this post does not contain any recipes or ideas for healthy snacks to give out to your trick-or-treaters this Halloween.  Actually, it is an appeal for just the opposite.

I overheard an acquaintance telling someone how they would be giving out “healthy snacks” to young trick-or-treaters for Halloween.  The other replied:  “You know, that’s such a great idea.  I should do that.”

Now, I know there are many foodies reading this blog (including myself), but I couldn’t help but find myself feeling a bit sorry for the kids who would be knocking on their doors expecting Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups this Saturday night, only to find a vegan oat-bran something-or-other dropped into their plastic pumpkin.

Personally, I enjoy vegan cookies (especially the ones at Real Food Daily in Los Angeles).  But I recall one Halloween when I was about 10 or 11, trick-or-treating with my friends in a suburb of Austin, TX, when we came to a house whose owner gave us each a Delicious Red apple – and nothing else.  I picked it up, looked at it quizically, and grudgingly dropped it back into my pumpkin.  (How this person could afford to buy so many apples, I do not know…though they weren’t organic).

Growing up, Halloween was one of the only times in the year when I was permitted to eat tooth-rotting candy.  And it wasn’t just the candy itself that was so special.  My friends and I would sit on the floor of my living room, dump out our “take” on the carpet, and begin trading with one another:  a Twix for a York Peppermint patty; Twizzlers for some Red Hots…though we had no formal diplomatic experience, we created a perfect – if chaotic – system of trade whereby each child was able to end up with his/her most favorite sweets at the end of the night.

How many children will be able to unload a vegan, sugar-free lollipop or a Delicious Red apple onto one of their peers?  Fat chance.  Perhaps, then, we should not begrudge children this one night of processed sweets, if only for the communal aspect that goes along with the abundance of sugar and which is sure to add to their psycho-social development.

Just make sure they brush their teeth very well.

Michelle Obama is hula-hooping for health on the South Lawn of the White House. Jamie Oliver’s going to teach obese America how to cook their vegetables, and eat them too. Herbivores, frugivores, and locavores are putting their stakes in the ground, amidst the moist dirt of organically grown slow food.

Meanwhile, my 20-month-old daughter went to synagogue over the holiday of Simchat Torah and learned the word “candy.” We were spending the holiday with my parents, and my girls were dressed in traditional New York Jewish holiday autumn glory, patent-leather shoes and red wool coats. On the way to synagogue, I noticed that other children on the sidewalk were carrying big plastic bags (luckily for them, they don’t live in Palo Alto, where plastic bags are illegal; I considered hauling them back West by the thousands, to sell on the sly at Whole Foods).

On the way home from synagogue, those children’s bags were full, Halloween-like, with candy. Lollipops, chocolates, sucking candies, soft candies, Fruit Roll Ups, Gushers, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, Craisins, York Peppermint Patties, Snickers, M&Ms, gum, Jelly Bellies, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Luckily, being from Palo Alto, we were limited to our pockets.

This is not solely a New York phenomenon. When my oldest daughter was a young toddler, at our local synagogue, a kind-hearted older kid gave her a lollipop and opened it for her, in the course of the two minutes I’d turned my back. I was aghast, and immediately took the lollipop away. Tragic crying ensued. I decided that this attempt to shield my child from the relentless world of synagogue sweets was futile. I gave her back the lollipop. She sucked on it with wide eyes and a tear-stained face, then pulled the lollipop from her mouth, smiled, and said, for the first time, “Happy.”

Rabbi Eleazer of Worms, who, in the 12th century, formalized the ritual of putting honey on the slates of Jewish children attending Heder for the first time, would be delighted. This is one approach to teaching children how to love Judaism. My younger daughter hears the word “Torah” and immediately says “candy.” My older daughter learned to associate shul with “Happy” at a tender age.

But is this really what we want to teach our children? To associate religion with empty calories and fleeting sweetness, which leaves in its wake sticky fingers and an aching tummy, which must be later toned with hula-hooping? Shouldn’t we instead be serving them nutrient-rich, filling, and fulfilling foods? Isn’t that what we hope our Judaism provides us and our children? Something substantial and substantive?

And yet. I love the autumn in New York. And there is something especially magical about being in my parent’s Sukkah, especially, on a cold, brisk morning, for breakfast. And there’s no Sukkot breakfast like Entemann’s Crumb-Topped Donuts, freshly baked in the Bronx. As I took a bite one morning this past trip, my flax seed and oatmeal thousands of miles away in sunny California, I couldn’t help but smile, and mumble through the powdered crumbs, “Happy.”

What could be more dear to an ecologically minded keeper of kashrut in summer than a marshmallow? In San Francisco, a panel of tasters at the local daily voted the kosher brand as their top pick. Tell us in comments where to find kosher ‘mallows in your area! Has anyone tried to make one at home?

So we only have a few days left of Pesach… and I happen to be quite happy about this!  It’s not that I don’t understand Pesach or why we don’t eat leavened things – I do.  I actually think the story of Pesach reminds us, as Jews, of some important lessons.  The reminder that I find to be most poignant is that we cannot consider ourselves free as long as others are oppressed.

Sorry for the digression – now back to food… I know some people find cooking during Pesach to be a fun challenge but I find it inconvenient.  As a vegetarian I rely (probably too much) on foods which are not considered “Kosher l’Pesach”, i.e. pasta, rice, bread, soy items, etc, so during Pesach I end up eating lots of matzoh pizza.  For anyone not familiar with matzoh pizza it is a basic combination of matzoh, tomato sauce and cheese which is then toasted (do not microwave because your matzoh pizza will be soggy).  I suppose one could come up with many variations to the aforementioned matzoh pizza recipe (please feel free to share your favorite) but no matter what it’s still matzoh pizza and is not even close to real pizza.

As you can infer from the previous paragraphs my brainstorming of what my boyfriend and I were going to eat during Pesach was a bit of a depressing process for me, however; there was one beacon of hope!  Early last week a friend emailed me for my matzoh crunch recipe.  I had made it last year and brought it to my office (filled with mostly Jews) and this friend like it so much that she went home that night and made it for her boyfriend.  He liked it so much that he requested it again this year!  I don’t know how but I until I received her email I had totally forgotten about the matzoh crunch.

This recipe is quick, easy, delicious and has brightened up my Pesach!  Some complain that it’s too sweet so I tried a variation this year by sprinkling the top with some citrus vanilla fleur de sel.  Being a fan of the salty/sweet combo I really enjoyed the variation.  I promise, you won’t regret making this treat for the last few days of Pesach!

Matzoh Crunch

5 plain matzohs

1 cup (2 sticks) local organic unsalted butter

1 cup packed brown sugar

about 8 oz (3/4 a standard bag) chocolate chips (I didn’t used Kosher l’Pesach chocolate because I don’t keep it that strictly but feel free to use it if you do keep strictly)

a few sprinkles of fleur de sel (optional)

other toppings such as nuts (optional)

Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees.  Line a large edged baking sheet with foil making sure to cover edges.  Line bottom of sheet with parchment paper.  This is important since the crunch can get very sticky.  Place matzohs on prepared sheet (you may have to break the fifth matzoh in half to make it fit).

Melt butter and brown sugar in a saucepan and let boil for a few minutes until thick.  Stir constantly.  Once thick remove from heat and immediately pour over matzohs spreading with knife to cover if necessary.

Place in oven and bake for about 10 mins.  Check matzoh after 5 mins to ensure it isn’t burning.

Remove from oven and sprinkle evenly with chocolate chips.  Let stand 5 mins so that chocolate chips melt.  Spread chocolate chips to cover matzohs.  Immediately sprinkle fleur de sel or other toppings if using.

Let cool fully and break into pieces.  Store in an airtight container.

*Photo by Daniel Albanese

The Jew & The Carrot is a blog about Jews, food and contemporary life. We strive to maintain a diverse and inclusive community on the blog – one which welcomes posters and readers from across the Jewish denominational spectrum and beyond, and from all walks of culinary life…Our aim is to ensure that this community is inclusive and safe, as well as being a platform for vibrant discussion.

I thought this quote from the blog’s Community Guidelines was particularly relevant in my post last week, A “Traditional” Passover Seder or How to Make Everyone Happy Around Your Table.  One of the comments on my post came from someone who identifies herself only as J. who pointed out that I had conflated the words chametz (the five grains – wheat, rye, barley, oats and spelt, according to the torah are prohibited on Passover) and kitniot (which apparently can be literally translated as “little thing-a-ma-jigs,” that are also prohibited on Passover but are not chametz and are subject to debate as to what exactly falls into this category).  I was pleased to get such a correction through the blog as it taught me something new.

However, I will disagree with J.’s point that as a convert I don’t have minhag. As I do feel that I carry with me a minhag avot (traditions or as defined by Michael Makovi in the comments specifically as “what your forefathers did”).  Although I do not have a Jewish family, I still have a loving family and traditions that I was raised with.  Traditions that I have tried to incorporate, the best that I can, into my new Jewish life – which brings me to charoset.

According to Wikipedia, charoset can be made from “chopped walnuts, grated apples, cinnamon, and sweet red wine” while Sephardi recipes also “call for dates and honey.”  That combination of ingredients reminded me of an afternoon when I was very young, making date cookies with my mom (I was supposed to be taking a nap, but I hated taking naps so this day my mom relented and I got some very special alone time with her while my other sisters slept).  The memory is pretty fuzzy, but I remember rolling a sweet, dark brown, sticky paste into little logs that we dusted with coconut.

Unsure of the details from this memory but thinking I was onto something, I called my mom and asked her if we had ever made date and coconut cookies together.  “You remember that?” she said, “They were date and nut cookies, and that would have been a very long time ago.”  And in fact it was, when she later unearthed the recipe (hand-written by a little old lady from my parents’ church) we realized I would have been about  three years-old when we made those cookies (my mother writes copious notes on all the recipes she tries).   The recipe is as follows (copied directly)

• Melt ¼ C. oleo [margarine] in an iron skillet.  Add: 1½ C chopped dates, 1 C sugar and 2 eggs (well beaten). Cook for 15 minutes on low.  Cool slightly.

• Add 2 C Rice Krispies, 1 tsp. vanilla and ½ C chopped nuts.  Roll into small balls or about 1-inch fingers.  Then roll in Angel Flake Coconut.

The next day when I made the date-nut cookies rolled in coconut, they were pretty much what I remembered – and apparently sold in many grocery stores.   But it really got me thinking – could this be my (rather unique) charoset at my Seder this year?  I realize that charoset is served in a bowl to be scooped out and not as individual finger-like cookies.  And charoset doesn’t include eggs and would never include kitniot (which some of those ingredients would be by some standards) – but this was something from my family history, which strikes a chord with me.  So if I were to follow my own minhag avot could I serve this childhood memory at my Seder table?

If you’re reading the Jew And The Carrot, it’s highly likely that you’re interested in food and sustainability. So, when you’re making your mishloach manot you’re probably thinking about the health and quality of the food you’re giving your friends and making efforts to minimize waste as well. You may even be making hamantashen from scratch with homemade local jam canned from last spring’s berry harvest. (Kol HaKavod to Lisa Fine-decidedly impressive!)

But while we can make conscious choices about what we give, what we receive is a whole other megillah. I’m beyond being shocked by the amount of sheer junk we get on Purim. And yet each year, it seems to get more outrageous. I mean, some of the things barely qualify as food. Sugar, chemicals, colorings and more sugar. All wrapped up in colorful plastic. The kids know when the baskets arrive, I’m like a bouncer at a chi-chi nightclub-highly selective. What ever is edible goes into the cabinet to be doled out for later consumption; the other stuff goes into a bag which I….Well, here’s where I get tripped up. I certainly don’t want to eat it, and I don’t want my family to eat it either. And I don’t want to give it away, because I wouldn’t give that kind of food to anyone I care about. I don’t like to throw it away, because it’s essentially throwing someone’s hard earned money in the trash (though, truth be told, that’s usually what I end up doing).

So, I’m asking you: What’s your solution to this mishloach manot dilemma? Looking forward hearing your fresh ideas.

Chanukah gelt always seems like a good idea at the beginning of December, but these days, the chocolate just doesn’t seem worth fighting with the foil to eat. Similar to Rhea Yablon Kennedy‘s experience, we wanted to find another way to use up our leftovers. When my roomies came back from a trip to Ohio they were inspired to make Buckeyes – the unofficial candy of the state of Ohio. Buckeyes are a tree nut and the candies do resemble the naturally occurring buckeye. Rachel, who hails from Cincinnati, referenced the Isaac M. Wise Temple Sisterhood cookbook for recipes. Not 1, but 2 recipes can be found (pages 113 and 114 for those of you who have the 2001 edition of the cookbook).  The Hazon office sure enjoyed these tasty treats…Buckeyes are basically peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate.

• 2 cups of peanut butter (chunky or smooth)
• 1/4 lbs. butter
• 2 cups confectioners’ sugar
• dash salt
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 12 oz. semi sweet chocolate chips/chanukah gelt
• 1 tsp. vegetable oil

In a large bowl, cream together peanut butter, butter, sugar, salt and vanilla. Place bowl in refrigerator for 1 hour or until easy to handle. Form marble-size balls, place on waxed paper covered cookie sheet and refrigerate for 2 hours or until firm. In a double boiler, melt chocolate and oil together, stirring until well combined. Dip chilled balls into chocolate mixture to almost cover, immediately return to cookie sheet.If chocolate is leftover, check out what you have in your pantry. We found shredded coconut and almonds and made what we were calling bird’s nests by throwing those ingredients into the melted chocolate and spooning them out onto the cookie sheet. However you enjoy it, this is a great way to reuse and recycle leftover chocolate. Now, anybody got any good ideas for the foil?

Melting our leftover Chanukah gelt.

The buckeye nut from the real buckeye tree. Photo of the buckeye tree from my aunt Libbe Madsen – from her home in Laytonville, CA where I went to unwind for a couple days after the Hazon Food Conference.

Bird’s Nests – chocolate/coconut/almond goodness