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Message: <br /><br /> If you are having trouble reading this email, you may view this article online at: http://www.jweekly.com/29276/full/29276/foodies-academics-parse-gefilte-fish-and-falafel/ <br /><br /> <b>Foodies, academics parse gefilte fish and falafel</b> <br /> Friday, May 19, 2006 | by <p>alexandra j. wall </p> <br /><br /><p>Whenever the young mothers order the “build-your-own-salad” option at the new California Street Deli and Café adjacent to the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco, Joyce Goldstein’s heart sinks.<br /><br /> “These are not East Coast Jews,” said Goldstein, a consultant to the new eatery. “They want avocado or lettuce and tomato on their pastrami!”<br /><br /> Goldstein had the crowd laughing at U.C. Davis on Monday, May 15 with that story, part of a lively discussion about the role of the Jewish deli in regards to Jewish identity. <br /><br /> She was taking part in a three-day conference called “From Farfel to Falafel: Food, Wine and Jewish Culture,” sponsored by the Jewish Studies department at U.C. Davis and a bevy of other organizations.<br /><br /> Goldstein’s comments followed a paper by Dickinson College professor Ted Merwin called “The Rise and Fall of the New York Jewish Deli” (delivered by another Dickinson professor and his wife, Andrea Lieber, since he was ill) and a viewing of the 1998 short documentary “Divine Food” by Bay Area filmmakers Bill Chayes and L. John Harris, about the Oscherwitz family’s sausage and kosher meat empire.<br /><br /> Goldstein made her name with healthy Mediterranean cuisine at the former San Francisco restaurant Square One. But give her a pastrami on rye any day — after all, she is still a Brooklyn girl at heart.<br /><br /> “They don’t know what kasha varnishkes are,” Goldstein lamented about the young mothers who patronize the JCC and its restaurants. “I’m grateful when the stuffed cabbage sells. This make-your-own salad business gives me heartburn.”<br /><br /> While academics from other institutions were among the presenters, the conference’s topic attracted a wide range of non-academics. Many community members who consider themselves foodies attended, too. Some worked in the restaurant business in the past, and several still do, such as Karen Adelman of Saul’s Deli in Berkeley.<br /><br /> At the start of his paper, Fred Astren, head of Judaic studies at San Francisco State University, revealed that in a past life he worked as a sommelier.<br /><br /> Donny Inbar, a Ph.D. candidate at Berkeley’s Graduate Theological Union, gave one of the most humorous papers. Titled “Just a Spoonful of Sugar Makes the Gefilte Fish Go Wild: Secret Ingredients that Stir the Politics of Jewish Identity,” he asked why “the gray fish patties surrounded by a gelatinous substance are so prominent to Jewish identity?”<br /><br /> Inbar relayed that his father, an intellectual fluent in eight languages, thinks his son’s interest in food — in addition to being a journalist and playwright, Inbar is also a trained chef — is “a hedonistic waste of time.” <br /><br /> Yet his father is a perfect example of how a recipe defines who he is.<br /><br /> Inbar’s father hails from Rovno, which is now in Ukraine but in the past went back and forth between Russian and Polish hands.<br /><br /> “His mother never made sweet gefilte fish,” said Inbar. “She made it very peppery, while the Poles made it sweet.” <br /><br /> Since Inbar’s father’s town of origin could mistakenly identify him as Polish, the fact that he preferred his gefilte fish peppery was critical, Inbar said. “The lack of sugar that his mother did not put proved him as Russian, not Polish — it’s a crucial distinction.”<br /><br /> Inbar was followed by Yael Raviv, an adjunct professor at New York University who has specialized in studying falafel and how other foods have been important to Israeli nationalism.<br /><br /> Showing an old poster of two figures with a human-size bunch of grapes slung between them, she said, “Food has been used to market Israel since biblical times, beginning with calling it ‘the land of milk and honey.’”<br /><br /> While olives and grapes — both found in the Bible — were the first symbols to represent the Zionist enterprise, the early settlers of pre-state Israel then adopted the orange, as they were proud of their advances in agriculture.<br /><br /> “The orange has no biblical connection but works to their advantage too, in that because it is new to Israel, it’s like the non-diasporic Jew,” she said.<br /><br /> Speaking of falafel, Raviv said that it originated in Egypt, made of fava beans and chickpeas. The food then crossed the borders, moving to the Palestinians, who only used chickpeas.<br /><br /> “Not only did Israel adopt it from Palestinians, but it has become part of its national identity, prompting rage from Palestinians,” she said.<br /><br /> “But because it didn’t come from other diasporic populations,” as did most food to Israel, she added, “it was Israel’s attempt to become part of the Middle East.”</p> <p> </p>

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