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Love You a Latke

Book by Amanda Elliot · 9 quotes · Jewish Food, Holidays, Ball Gown

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Love You a Latke Quotes

“The menu was full of foods that felt like home to me, but that also had a flair of originality. Brisket and matzo balls in a hearty bowl of ramen. Lox bowls with nori and crispy rice. Savory potato kugel and boureka pastries with hummus and fried artichokes with kibbeh. Knishes with kimchi and potato filling and a gochujang aioli. "This menu is so... Jewish." "So Jewish," Seth agreed. "And make sure you're saving room for dessert. The rugelach is unreal, and the rainbow cookies are---" he looked around, then lowered his voice--- "better than my mom's." One of the things I actually missed about living in New York was seeing all the fun twists people put on Jewish and Israeli food at restaurants and in delis. Nobody was doing that in Vermont. Maybe you could do that in Vermont, something whispered in my head. I was used to just pushing that voice away, but, for once, I let myself pause and consider it. Would it be that crazy to sell babka at my café? I bet people would love a thick, tender slice of the sweet bread braided with chocolate or cinnamon sugar or even something savory with their coffee. I could experiment with fun fillings, have a daily special. Or I could rotate shakshuka or sabich sandwiches on the brunch specials menu, since they both involved eggs. My regulars might see eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce and pitas stuffed with fried eggplant, eggs, and all the salad fixings as breaths of fresh air.”

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“We set up shop on a nearby bench, me starting with the savory order--- trout roe; sour cream; pickled radish--- and him with the sweet one--- spicy apple chutney; honey; whipped cream. The second savory order, with smoked salmon and dill and cucumber, we balanced between us, because I couldn't limit us to only two options after all. And really, when it came to fried potatoes, the more the merrier. Especially these, because they were excellent: lacy and crisp, with crunchy edges and soft, pillowy centers.”

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“You really can't go wrong with the food at any Jewish holiday. Well, with the exception of Passover, because matzah is terrible and eight days of no carbs but matzah and potatoes can have you crying for pizza by the end. But think bagels and lox to break the Yom Kippur fast. All sorts of exotic fruits on Tu B'Shevat. Brisket and tzimmes and noodle kugel for pretty much any occasion. And that's only the Ashkenazi food; I'd been treated to Sephardic and Mizrahi food occasionally at friends' houses growing up, and I remembered fish cooked in spicy tomato sauce, tangines with chickpeas and saffron, Yemenite braided bread with whole eggs hidden in the twists. But Hanukkah food? Because Hanukkah celebrates the miracle of the oil, it's basically a mitzvah to eat fried foods for the holiday. And doing a good deed by eating French fries or doughnuts is the absolute best way to do a good deed.”

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“I'm just not a glitter person," I was telling her as she led me back out into the main space, but the words stopped short when she shoved me in front of the mirrors and there I was, glittering at angle after angle. I almost didn't recognize myself. The dress was another simple A-line in shape, gathered at the bust and flowing past my waist to the floor. Its sleeves were loops that circled around my upper arms, baring my shoulders so that my hair could tumble over them or be tied up high to showcase the elegant flow of my throat into my clavicle, which I'd only just now realized was elegant. The dress was black--- my favorite color--- and covered with tiny chips of what must have been rhinestones, small and subtle and scattered enough where I didn't glow like a disco ball under the lights but instead shimmered whenever I moved. I looked like a princess of the night sky.”

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“Oh my god," I said, because yes, Seth was breathing. He was also naked. Not totally naked, I realized a beat later. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Which, come to think of it, explained why everything smelled like lavender. It also explained the beads of water clinging to the black curls scattering his chest and taut stomach and the thicker trail of black hair leading down beneath the towel---”

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