Latkes by Larry

I was talking about Latkes with my co-workers one fine morning, and was asked “What’s a Latke?”

Let me tell you what they are, and what they are not.

What they are not - they are not a character played by Andy Kaufman on the TV Show “Taxi.”

What they are - They are a potato pancake, crisp and golden brown on the outside, fluffy on the inside. Served with apple sauce or sour cream, they are a tradition at any Hanukkah celebration. They are a source of pride among the family and relished each year.

What they really are – Hash Browns. They’re usually soggy and lukewarm, gray on the interior and black outside. So, after you make them, you eat the Christmas cookies your neighbor Jan brought over in an absolutely adorable reindeer-covered red and white sweater. So, after she asks “What’s a Latke?” you simply take her cookies, give her the leftovers and everyone’s happy (or at least your family is; Jan hasn’t spoken to us since).

But Latkes truly are a Hanukkah Tradition and I intend to give you a foolproof recipe (so called because you’re foolish to believe me).

But first some explanations about the secrets to making a good Latke. You didn’t really expect me to get to the point now, did you? Since so many of you gentiles like to talk about “FAQ’s,” let me do this in a “Q&A;” format.

Why are they a tradition that is only served on Hanukkah?

Well, they’re a lot of work to make, and do you really think we would do so more than once per year?

Apple Sauce or Sour Cream?

Get two Jewish Alter Kochers in the room and you’ll get at least 7 opinions on this subject. Uncle Schlomo will tell you, emphatically, that sour cream is a must; apple sauce is for kids.

Uncle Lazar will tell you that you need the sweetness of the apple sauce; why so sour?

What you can be sure of is this: If you don’t serve both, a family war will break out. And if you try to be creative (blueberry sauce with dried cherries, or something that’s equally gourmet, and hence gentile), you will be disowned by everyone. So, just keep it simple and serve both. Trust me on this.

What makes a good Latke? Good question.

Your Grampa Morty will tell you that NO ONE made Latke’s like your Bubbe Rivka (may she rest in peace).

Your Aunt Sadie will tell you she makes them just like in the Old Country (Greatneck, N.Y.).

No one has the same recipe for Latkes, trust me I looked. But, by some miracle, they always taste exactly the same.

But there are a few secrets that you need to know before you make Latkes:

1. Keep Them Hot

2. Keep Them Dry

3. Keep Them Quick

Why Hot?

Because, a cold Latke is a soggy, oily mess that sits in your stomach like a stone.

The best way to keep them Hot is to take them right out of the frying pan and onto the plate.

But that means you have to cook them in front of every Yente in your family. And you will be criticized for everything, because no one makes them as good as they do.

So, my advice is don’t try. Cook them well before the family arrives, put them in a 200 degree oven to get them warm, and don’t worry so much. After all, everyone’s used to it anyway.

Why Dry?

Once you make Latkes below, you’ll see that there is enough water given off of the potatoes to keep your garden wet for a week. Assuming you have a garden. Or, assuming you don’t hire some gentile to take care of it for you, because you’re such a big macher and all.

If you try to put a dripping wet Latke into a very hot pan full of oil, you will a) be driven to the hospital with third degree burns and b) make soggy Latkes even soggier.

Why Quick?

Freshly grated potatoes turn brown and cook gray faster than my cousin Esther went through Manischewicz.

The only possible hope you have is if you keep them dry and don’t expose them to air for long. Given that the potatoes will turn brown by the time they hit the bowl, this is a truly hopeless act, but you must try.

So, don’t forget any of these and I’ll now (yes at page 3) give you the recipe. Follow these steps exactly in order, and you might have a chance.

Step 1. Wash 4 large potatoes. Don’t peel them (remember the brown thing?). Set them aside to dry (yep, already on track).

Step 2. Take 1 egg, and beat it in a bowl. Set the bowl aside.

Don’t use 2 eggs – they won’t be dry. And, for heavens sake, don’t use egg whites thinking you’ll save cholesterol – the egg yolks bind it, and you’re frying the things anyway!

Step 3. In another bowl, mix together the following:

4 Tablespoons Flour

1 Teaspoon Baking Powder

1 Tablespoon Salt

½ Teaspoon Pepper

Now, for those of you grabbing measuring spoons in a vain attempt to follow this recipe, remember this – What I told you really doesn’t matter.

After all, are the potatoes exactly measured?

Step 4. In your food processor, with the large grating disk, take ½ of a largish onion (remember, don’t measure), and grate it.

Stop crying, it’s only an onion.

Put the onion (not the liquid) into another large bowl. Leave just a little bit of the onion juice in the processor, as it might (ok, probably won’t but why not try) help keep the potatoes from turning brown.

And yes, in the Old Country they grated things by hand. But that just won’t be quick, now would it.

Step 5. Put a non-stick skillet (or two) on the stove. Add plenty of oil to coat the bottom, but we’re not making French Fries, so don’t go overboard. Start heating the pan, until it is smoking hot.

Step 6. Have an empty bowl handy, and grate the potatoes into the food processor. Its time to hurry.

Step 7. Grab a handful of grated potatoes. Squeeze them dry over the empty bowl, and put the now dry potatoes into the bowl with the onions. As you go, mix the potatoes and onions together, but don’t spend much time here.

Step 8. Add the egg and the flour mixture to the potatoes and onions. Mix them with your hands. Yes, your hands. A spoon takes way too long, and I bet they’re turning brown on you while you read this.

Step 9. Put the Latke mixture near the stove. Empty out the water from the bowl, but keep it handy.

Grab a handful of Latke mix. Squeeze it again over the water bowl, and shape it into a patty. Carefully place this into the now very hot oil in the pan. Do this until the pan is full, but leave plenty of space around each patty.

Fry to golden brown on each side. Drain them on a wire rack in the 200 degree oven (you did heat it, right!). You’ll get about 20 pancakes in all.

Now, the honest truth. I polled the Internet and really came up with all sorts of recipes, but the proportions above are an average of what I saw. Miss M and I made 3 batches by the above. She measured out the stuff, squeezed the potatoes, took 5 minutes shaping each perfectly round little patty, and we ate enough to last a week.

Now she’s sleeping upstairs, and I’m sharing these with friends tomorrow who honestly didn’t know what a Latke is (but I promise they’ll be hot). Ignoring the Jackie Mason shtick, every Jewish family I know makes Latkes the same way and has the same debates. Hanukkah is not about gifts, but family, so try this with yours.