Food: Deep Jewish roots in Tuscany

“It’s a help-yourself kitchen,” Elana Horwich announced effusively as she kept an eye on simmering pots and pans atop burners on a roomy kitchen island stove. 

On Oct. 1, Horwich, founder of the 5-year-old Meal and a Spiel quasi-roving cooking school, hosted an event cheekily called “Sukkot for Goyim.” All of her ingredients were prepped in the kitchen, while a gracious seasonal table was set in a backyard sukkah at a private home in Beverly Hills. 

This was Horwich’s third time hosting this event, and on this particular night, the Jew-to-non-Jew ratio tipped more heavily toward the latter. 

As with her many other Yiddishims, “I use the word ‘goyim’ with humor,” Horwich said of the evening’s title, which she also dubbed a “Magical Multicultural Sukkot.” For example, a dish she’s named “Chik-sa Soup” is “chicken soup easy enough for shiksas,” in Horwich’s playful, irreverent approach to language and food. 

Dressed casually, with her blond hair loosely piled atop her head, she’s quick to make jokes and put her students at ease. It’s all part of an accessible, no-fuss and no-nonsense teaching style. (Horwich also blogs and contributes recipes to this publication; her recipe for the aforementioned soup can be found here.) 

Horwich fell in love with Italy when she was 20 and a student at Brown, focused on Italian-Jewish culture. A native of Beverly Hills, she went on to earn a master’s degree in Italian at Middlebury College, which maintains a campus in Florence. 

Horwich said her love of Italian language and culture dovetailed with embracing her Jewish identity during her first visit to Rome. “I was so drawn to these ancient ruins,” she said. While taking in the sights, she realized, “My people are older than these columns. That blew me away.”

She grew up with no formal culinary training, so Horwich absorbed as much as she possibly could during the years she lived in Rome. Then, in response to friends’ requests, she began teaching how to make simple, rustic meals in a home kitchen, which meshed nicely with her previous experience as a high school history teacher. Now, Horwich offers various thematic sessions (such as soups and braising meats, for example) and a range of styles — not just Italian food. She also teaches private groups and at parties. 

Some of her classes focus on “clean” cooking, but not for Sukkot, Horwich told her recent gathering. “Tonight is a night about indulgence.” Figs topped with gorgonzola, drizzled honey and fresh mint; crostini with a classically Jewish combination of spinach, pine nuts and raisins; a Persian-influenced cucumber, fennel and pomegranate seed salad with avocado for a Californian touch; and baked eggplant-enrobed timballo filled with penne pasta, tomato sauce and burrata cheese (recalling the elaborate timballo that was the pièce de résistance in the film “Big Night.”) For dessert, participants in the hands-on class — Horwich doesn’t like to teach demonstration style — made sfratti cookies filled with a mixture of walnuts, honey, spices and orange zest.

Horwich’s knowledge of Italian history smoothly fueled the “spiel” part of the evening, and her exacting pronunciation added a degree of street cred. She explained the historical and symbolic significance of the featured foods, noting, for example, the association of pine nuts and raisins with pre-expulsion Jewish mercantile communities that had proximity to Arab trading routes in Sicily and Southern Italy. The sfratti recipe — modified with gluten-free flour — came from Pitigliano, a village in Tuscany known in Italy as “Little Jerusalem,” where Jews enjoyed a degree of protection and immunity from persecution at various points throughout history. The sfratti, meaning “sticks,” represent the tools used to evict Jews from their homes or towns.  

As the night wore on, participants found their own rhythm, taking turns pitching in while sharing bottles of wine they had brought. It’s helpful that Horwich designs recipes well-suited to collective effort and forgiving to amateur cooks. She sends all of her students home with a packet containing cooking instructions, as well as her personal insights. 

Side conversations and quick familiarity gradually increased during Sukkot for Goyim. “She’s giving me good advice as she’s zesting the orange!” one woman blurted out when Horwich asked for everyone’s attention. Other Sukkot revelers and cooks that night included an attorney from Maryland and his son and daughter-in-law, who live in Pasadena and are fans of Horwich. One non-Jewish repeat customer studies at the Kabbalah Center. 

With all the intensive cooking involved, it took a little while for Jew and non-Jew to pull away from the kitchen and move into the sukkah. But once outside, the conversations continued to flow, and the crowd took pride in its kitchen accomplishments. 

“When you cook with love, you can change the world,” Horwich said, repeating a core belief. As for the dishes the class had prepared, Horwich is realistic about not trying to dazzle audiences with complexity, but satisfy them in other ways. “It doesn’t wow you. It warms you,” she said under the sukkah’s twinkling lights. 

RECIPE: Jewish-Italian spinach crostini with raisins and pine nuts

In Italian food, the combination of raisins and pine nuts, particularly in a savory dish, is usually emblematic of Jewish roots. 

• 3 pounds (3 bunches) of spinach or green chard, rinsed well, stems mostly removed
• 1 small onion, diced (or 1/2 large onion)
• 1/2 cup raisins, soaked in warm water for a couple of minutes
• 1/4 cup pine nuts
• Salt
• Pepper
• A couple of gratings of fresh nutmeg
• French baguette
• Extra-virgin olive oil

A sliced baguette makes the perfect vehicle for this Italian appetizer. Photo from shutterstock.com

Put washed spinach in a pot, cover and cook over medium heat for about 5 minutes. (No need to add any oil or water. The spinach has enough water in it.)

Sauté onion for 3 to 4 minutes, until translucent and soft.

Add raisins and pine nuts to the onion, a dash or two of salt and pepper, and cook for another couple of minutes. 

Add the spinach and the nutmeg and stir. Cook until spinach looks “dried” (not as watery). 

Turn on broiler and place rack 6 inches from heat source.

Cut baguette into 1/4-inch-thick slices.

Toast bread in broiler for about 30 seconds per side. Be careful not to burn it. 

Drizzle a little olive oil on each piece of toasted bread and top with spinach mixture.

Serve with a glass of crisp Prosecco or a dry Riesling. 

For more information on Elana Horwich’s classes and more recipes, visit her Meal and a Spiel blog.