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HOFF Y ’S KOSHER FOOD Marijke Libert

INTRODUCTION

Orthodox and hip, kosher and cool: the meals presented by the Jewish Hoffman brothers in Hoffy’s, their restaurant-cum-takeaway, are one big culinary paradox. Prepared according to the dietary rules of Kashrut, but pimped so creatively that the traditional food has become trendy. And delicious! All the same, Hoffy’s counter leads to acute choice overload, since the range is as diverse as the widespread Jewish people. It is the diaspora on your plate, featuring elements taken from all over the world: from a dash of Hungarian to Iranian seasoning. Local products – Belgian chicory, for instance – are given a place too. But not Brussels sprouts; the bugs that often hide in these vegetables are treif, non-kosher, on religious grounds. And the fact that Belgian strawberries have pushed out Spanish ones has to do with Jewish rules too. A rabbinate representative inspects every product at Hoffy’s and supervises all the cooking pots from early morning on. ‘It’s not always easy to cook kosher, but then Jewish people’s lives have never been easy.’ Moshi and Yumi, Hoffy’s founding brothers, speak with characteristic composure. Their business on Lange Kievitstraat in Antwerp, Belgium has found fame as far away as New York, but they will always remain small. Hoffy’s has no spin-offs and that is a conscious choice. Small was the way everything started. With one fish. It was a whopper of a cod which their father, a Shoah (Holocaust) survivor, sold slice by slice, from door to door in Antwerp. The rest is ‫*היסטוריה‬ * history

HOFFY’S KOSHER FOOD

Half past nine in the morning. One by one, dishes loaded with food are brought from the kitchen and slid into the wide display cases. Prepared salads, steamed and grilled vegetables, soufflés, a bean stew, stuffed peppers, bulgur dishes and potato dishes. Many schnitzels too. The chef, Moshi Hoffman, inspects, nods and rearranges. And hums. It is never quiet inside his head. Being enterprising and creative is all part of the job, but this perfectionist is ever-present at the mise-enplace, preparation and arranging. The only thing that keeps him relatively calm is the songs he sings under his breath. Moshi has made a dozen morning, noon and evening meals. They will soon be tucked into food boxes and sent by courier to a firm in the Belgian province of Limburg that receives important Jewish clients. Clients who only eat kosher breakfast, lunch and dinner. Chef Hoffman points proudly to the dessert plate of raspberry coulis, a mousse, fresh red fruits and pomegranate. It looks divine and very aesthetic too. ‘The eyes need something too’, says Moshi. And no, that isn’t a dietary law, but he is not satisfied with anything that does not delight the eye. He carefully packs the meals for Limburg: stuffed aubergine with grilled gravadlax, magret de canard with fig sauce. The julienne of courgettes, mini aubergines, baby carrots and oven-grilled potatoes are also encased in plastic, with rabbinical seal of approval. The green, blue and red stickers represent vegetarian dishes, food containing milk, and food containing meat, respectively, all of which were prepared in separate kitchens. All according to the law with its 613 dos and don’ts. ‘Everything has to be absolutely right. I want to earn my living creating food I am allowed to eat and want to eat’, says Moshi firmly. In the meantime, his counter keeps filling up. Two other Hoffman brothers have just brought in platters of prepared fish: salmon with almonds and fish croquettes. The fish comes from their own shop a few doors along. The Lange Kievitstraat is popularly called Hoffman

Pinchas

HOFFY’S KOSHER FOOD

street, and you can see why. In between the Hoffman brothers’ restaurant and the Hoffman brothers’ fish shop there is a grocer’s run by other Hoffmans and a shop selling homeware and kitchen utensils run by Moshi Hoffman’s daughter. Moshi’s mother, widow Hoffman, lives above the fish shop. HUNGARY

After wandering for a long time following years of war which produced indelible trauma, the Hoffman family ended up in this neighbourhood of Antwerp, behind the Central Station, in the middle of the last century. The family is part of the cultural and religious group of Ashkenazi Jews that came from Hungary but was originally Spanish. ‘Up to six centuries ago, we even had a Spanish name, but I’ve forgotten it’, says Moshi. The name was changed to Hoffman when the Ashkenazi Jews were driven from the Iberian peninsula some 530 years ago. ‘Our ancestors fled first to Germany and then to Eastern Europe. Our branch of the family remained in Hungary for two centuries. Until. Ach.’ Moshi falters. That ‘ach’. You know what is coming. An intense account of agony and terror. A story that has to be told over and over again so that we never forget it. ‘It is so important that we treat that narrative with care’, his brother Yumi joins in. Moshi nods. ‘That is why we feel that the correct interpretation is important. What our parents and ancestors experienced throughout the centuries as well as during the Shoah does not just explain who we are today. It forms the basis of our survival instinct, of our urge to integrate and even of what we sell here in our restaurant.’ Yumi concurs. Yumi, brother and business partner, is really called Benjamin. He spends somewhat less time in the kitchen than behind the counter and in Hoffy’s restaurant. He is the one who welcomes the groups. Visitors are guided through Jewish customs as they are presented with dishes to taste in a small room at the back. Yumi disentangles a world for them which reveals more than is visible around them: women with wigs, men in black with high black hats and ringlets. Yumi is the interpreter for the outside world but when deeper family questions come up, then Moshi is the spokesman. He was also the one who delved into his background decades ago. ‘I was in my mid 20s, keen to learn but mostly curious; I wanted to see the place in Hungary, for instance. After months of nagging, my father agreed. Seven members of our family set off.’ He sighs. Something cracks in his voice. He continues in measured sentences. ‘It was so emotional. I had never seen my parents cry. Until then. So many painful memories.’ During the Nazis’ first devastating march through the country in 1939, Hoffman senior, his then wife and their four children were rounded up and then separated. Hoffman senior was sent to the Birkenau and Mauthausen concentration camps. His wife and children were transported to the gas chambers. When the Allies freed Europe in 1944, Hoffman senior was forced to take part in the Death March.

HOFFY’S KOSHER FOOD

Moshi Hoffman: ‘He was finished, broken; he knew that his family had been killed. We lost 69 members of our family. As children, we never knew any aunts, uncles or grandparents. There were no family visits or family parties when we were children. We had a very difficult childhood; we lived in poverty and in the background was all that grief. My parents did their best to spare us from their traumas as much as they could. They worked extremely hard to give us a better future. But all the time, that was there. My father hardly ever spoke of the camps. He did sing melancholic songs while he worked, however. People say I’m very like him.’ (smiles) COD

After Europe was liberated, Hoffman senior was resolute. He would start a new life. He returned to Hungary, married a Jewish Ashkenazi girl and then fled from the Russians with her, first to Rome and then to Paris. During that period, the Chief Rabbi in Israel announced that Antwerp would become the centre of the Jewish community. ‘My father had heard that speech and wanted to see the city with his own eyes. He left. My mother, pregnant at the time, was left in uncertainty for six weeks. Until one day, my father reappeared in Paris. “Start packing”, he said, “I like the look of Antwerp”.’ And so they left. Together with ten other Jewish couples, they moved into a two-room apartment close to the former Kievitplein, a square behind the Central Station. Their eldest son was born. Hoffman senior searched persistently for work to support his family. It is a family anecdote that Hoffy’s ‘empire’ is built on a single cod. The Hoffman brothers tell that story with enthusiasm and great pride. About how, one day, their father saw a man cycling along on a delivery bicycle. The man had some fish with him. Hoffman senior asked if he could work for him. The man shrugged his shoulders and handed him a huge cod. ‘Here, sell this and then pay me back’, was all he said. Hoffman senior cleaned the fish, chopped it into fillets and sold them door to door. A week later, he paid the man back and was given a box of cod. He soon sold them too. Hoffman looked for a partner, rented some premises and opened a fish shop. That shop is still there. ICE-COLD HANDS

Both Hoffman parents worked hard and their family grew year after year. All 11 sons and one daughter later helped in the business. ‘That shop was part of our lives. I can remember the deep trays of ice, crammed with fish, and the gigantic barrels of herring. But what I most remember is the cold. Father’s hands were never anything other than purple. When we were working too, we often had numb fingers and no gloves. We used to put a hot potato in a sock and warm our hands on it. Once we had warmed up, we removed the potato again and returned it to the pan. Nothing at all was wasted at home. No leftovers, not one crust of bread.’

HOFFY’S KOSHER FOOD

PESACH / PASSOVER

BORSCHT (BEETROOT SOUP) Serves eight

4 or 5 beetroots (about 1 kg) 1Ă Â˝ to 2 l water salt and pepper to taste 2 tbsp sugar 2 tbsp vinegar 2 egg yolks

Peel and dice the beetroots and put them into a pan with the water. Add salt and pepper and bring to the boil. Turn down the heat and simmer for about 30 minutes until the beetroots are cooked. Add sugar and vinegar to taste. Blend the soup. Spoon some soup out of the pan and allow to cool. Beat the egg yolks in a small bowl and gradually pour some of the cooled soup onto the egg. Stir well. Remove the pan from the heat. Pour the egg mixture into the pan, stirring all the time. Chill the soup in the fridge. Serve the borscht lukewarm as a drink with a meal.

Tip: Borscht is delicious with mashed potato and crispy chicken skins (gribenes, see p. 56).

PESACH / PASSOVER

ROAST LAMB SHOULDER Serves six

1 boneless lamb shoulder weighing 1 to 1.2 kg salt and pepper oil 1 large onion, peeled ¼ red chilli pepper, seeds removed 1 carrot, scrubbed 1 large tomato ½ small parsnip, scrubbed and peeled 1 clove of garlic, peeled 2 bay leaves 375 ml water ½ tsp salt or celery salt 1 tsp black pepper 200 ml red wine 2 tsp potato starch or cornflour (optional)

Heat some oil in a large pan over a medium heat. Season the lamb on both sides with salt and pepper. Brown the meat on all sides, two to three minutes per side. Remove the meat from the pan and set aside. Heat the oven to 170°C. Roughly chop the onion, chilli pepper, carrot, tomato, parsnip and garlic, and place them on the bottom of a roasting tin. Add the bay leaves. Season with salt and pepper, and pour on some water. Place the lamb on top of the bed of vegetables. Cover the roasting tin. Braise the lamb in the oven for 2 hours. Remove the lid and roast for another 30 minutes to brown the meat. Take the tin out of the oven and remove the lamb and vegetables. Stir the red wine into the meat juices in the tin. Simmer for a few minutes, incorporating all the meat juices that have stuck to the tin. Sieve and then boil the gravy down until it is the right consistency. The gravy should be thick. Add some water if the gravy is too thick, or thicken it with dissolved cornflour or potato starch if it is too thin. Place the shoulder of lamb in a warm oven dish, arrange the hot vegetables around it and pour the gravy on top. Serve with rice or gombotz (see p. 112).

PESACH / PASSOVER

157

TEXT

Marijke Libert Eli Hopstein (recipes)

ISBN 978 94 9388 713 7 D/2019/11922/37 NUR 440

TRANSLATION

Kay Dixon

COPY-EDITING

Patrick Lennon PHOTOGRAPHY

Piet De Kersgieter Stephan Vanfleteren (pp. 5, 14, 15, 20, 22–23) family archives Hoffy’s family (pp. 6, 9, 10) ARCHIVE IMAGES EDITING

Séverine Lacante ART DIRECTION

Natacha Hofman GRAPHIC DESIGN

Tim Bisschop

PROJECT COORDINATION

Lyn Kerkhofs

PUBLICATION MANAGEMENT

Stefanie Deblaere Hadewych Van den Bossche PRINTING

die Keure, Bruges, Belgium BINDING

Van Mierlo, Nijmegen, the Netherlands

HANNIBAL

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any other information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. This publication has been compiled with the greatest possible care. Neither the maker nor the publisher assumes any liability for any inaccuracies and/or omissions in this publication.

Thanks to Kookwinkel Oosterzele for the use of their material.