GEFILTE FISH: FEELINGS & MEMORIES

Whether the subject is latkes, hamentaschen or challah, WJC members—like Jews around the world—have no shortage of opinions on what they like to eat (or don’t), and how they prefer these traditional foods to be prepared. But arguably no ritual dish is more polarizing than the humble gefilte fish, which is not really a fish at all, but an amalgam that may include carp, whitefish, and/or pike. With Passover soon upon us, we asked a sampling of congregants to reflect a bit on one of the Seder’s signature offerings

—Jacques Steinberg

“The first time I really enjoyed gefilte fish was when I was invited to my college roommate’s home in Columbus, Ohio for Passover. Her parents were survivors from Poland and made sweet gefilte fish. Luckily, Seasons makes it the same way. I’ve been eating it ever since!”

“I grew up one city block from the beach in Brighton Beach and, in my mind, the pike, carp, and whitefish that went into my Mom’s homemade gefilte fish are deeply connected to that beach and to the Atlantic’s briny water. My mother was well-known to the fishmonger at the corner of Brighton Beach Avenue and Brighton 3rd Street (picture Brighton Beach Memoirs). After she selected the fish she wanted, the fishmonger would descale, debone, and gut them and wrap them in brown paper. Then, in the small kitchen of our apartment, in a pre-war, six-story brick building, she would take out a wide wooden bowl and a chopping knife with a red, C-shaped metal handle, and begin to slowly chop and chop and chop the fish, then scrape the bottom of the bowl and repeat the sequence again and again and again... It was such hard work! I remember my Mom working up a sweat and not enjoying the process, but she would never use, or own, a food processor. She said the texture wouldn’t be the same. I’m sure she was right. She also added eggs, matzah meal, hand-grated parsnips and carrots, and gently sautéed onions to the mix before forming the footballshaped gefilte fish. The fish stewed in a pot with water and more carrots and onions. And the gefilte fish were heavenly! Nothing like the sugar-sweetened ones stuffed in jars or the frozen, rubbery ones from the supermarket. I still have the wooden bowl which looks like an object from a Rembrandt still life. I also still have the chopping knife. These are beloved objects that hold beloved memories of my Mom. God willing, I will bring them out of retirement this coming year to prepare homemade gefilte fish for our family Seder.”