During Covid lockdown when I could not safely hug or hang with my adult children, Shabbat dinner expressed my love. Like a reverse Uber Eats, they would pick up bags filled with the evening’s feast from my front porch late Friday afternoons. We would sing the brachot (blessings) and converse via Zoom.
As Covid information evolved, we transitioned to in-person meals outside. Our back porch and garden accommodated several separate pods with one to two people in each. Outdoor heaters helped us ride out the blessedly mild Southern California winters.
As lockdown continued, I felt like a caged Grizzly and looked for ways to enrich my enclosure. I started a Little Free Library. I watched The Great British Baking Show, which restored my faith in humanity’s innate goodness, and taught me how to make Brie Bites and Kouign-amann. With each success, I tried more challenging Shabbat recipes. I became absolutely fearless in the kitchen. Rarely, a dish failed. (I’m looking at you, Ricotta Balls.) We just laughed and ate more freshly baked challah.
Last month, I read a story of one Auschwitz barracks in which women recited favorite recipes from memory to stave off starvation. Post-liberation, Ica Kellner recorded six hundred recipes she had heard in the dark. One of them was Darázsfészek (DO-rahzh-fay-sek), “Hungarian Wasp Nest.”
Intrigued, I decided to build Shabbat dinner around this exotic dessert. The main course inspiration arose from Sue Grafton’s alphabet series. The Hungarian bar owner cooked a swoon-worthy Chicken Paprikash. Although I did not have Rosie’s recipe, the Internet provided several options. As with most savory recipes, I quadrupled the garlic and swapped the dairy for vegan alternatives.
Kosher-keeping Jews separate meat from milk. I knew from adapting other dishes it would be simple to exchange the butter and sour cream for non-dairy substitutes. Thank you, vegans, for dairy-free cheese that actually melts and tastes decent, unlike the early 1980s’ insipid plastic shreds. Bless you for vegan butter and sour cream which make pareve dishes nearly impossible to distinguish from dairy ones. Countless times family and guests have marveled aloud at a pareve dessert that tastes rich and buttery. Our grandmothers only had Mocha Mix and Fleischmann’s Margarine, which typically yielded Scary Non-Dairy.
Chicken Paprikash recipes suggest serving it on a bed of Nokedli (Hungarian Dumplings.) Do not confuse this charmingly stubby, low-tech pasta with German Spätzle. Do not be tempted to purchase a stainless-steel Spätzle maker hours before Shabbat dinner, even if Amazon promises same-day delivery.
My family demolished seconds and thirds of the Paprikash and all the Nokedli, despite my doubling both recipes. They inhaled the Hungarian broccoli. They agreed all the dishes should become part of our Shabbat dinner rotation, their highest compliment. Although the Darázsfészek was a big hit, all were too full to finish it.
Recipe note: Leftover Darázsfészek pairs nicely with peanut butter for a festive Shabbat breakfast, lunch, or snack.
INSTANT NOODLES 