dishes of comfort: kashe varnishkes
November 15th, 2006
This is my post for the Dishes of Comfort blogging event, hosted by Cream Puffs in Venice and Viaggi & Sapori.
One of my favorite foods growing up was kashe varnishkes, an Eastern European Jewish side dish full of carbs and mushrooms. As a child, I enjoyed nothing more than a bowl of steaming, sticky white rice, a slice of crusty bread or challah, or a bowl of pasta, hot or cold, with olive oil and salt. I was, and still am, enthralled by the texture, flavor, and the soulful satisfying nature of carbs.
Kashe varnishkes, however, stands apart. A combination of pasta, buckwheat, and mushrooms, kashe varnishkes is the Eastern European answer to Egyptian kushari and Yemeni majadra. The unique pleasure of Kashe varnishkes lies in its combination of nutty, tender buckwheat kernels, with earthy, juicy mushrooms, along with al dente pasta. Kashe varnishkes is pleasantly toothsome, yet very warming on a cold night.
Kashe varnishkes is one of the few dishes that my mother learned to cook from her Eastern European mother. Back in pre-WWII Europe, my great-grandmother enforced the rule that the kitchen was no place for children. Consequently, my grandmother didn’t learn much in the way of cooking, and my mother was often shooed from her mother’s little kitchen in Israel. Kashe varnishkes was one of the few dishes that survived the broken chain of culinary tradition, along with gorgul morgul—a peculiar yet tasty concoction made of egg yolk, lemon juice, and honey—which was meant to soothe a sore throat.
My mother would prepare kashe varnishkes as a treat for a Friday night Sabbath dinner, perhaps with chicken and salad or broccoli. I loved the steaming kernels of toasted buckwheat as much as I loved the big, chewy pasta bowties that poked through the mound of grain. The mushrooms were little buried treasures that exploded with earthy flavor in my mouth.
On Saturday afternoons when everyone napped, I would tiptoe to the refrigerator and fix myself a bowl of leftover kashe varnishkes. They were cold, and I couldn’t reheat them on the Sabbath, but I didn’t care. I would correct the seasoning with salt and perhaps a little pepper. Satisfied, I would take the bowl and a soup spoon and go to the living room, where I would choose an interesting book from my father’s extensive library. Maybe Jonathan Swift, or Dickens, perhaps Aldous Huxley. I’d climb into the big leather Eames chair and cross my legs Indian style. I’d pick up the book and cradle the bowl in my lap. As I disappeared into the universe of my book, I’d dig in my spoon and take a big, luscious bite.
kashe varnishkes
butter
150-200 gr pasta, preferably bowtie (I used fettuccine, which I broke into large-ish bite-size pieces)
3/4 c buckwheat, toasted
1/3 lb mushrooms (I used shitakes and chanterelles)
salt and pepper to taste
- Cook the pasta as you usually would, rinse it to stop it from cooking.
- In a large skillet, melt a little butter and fry the buckwheat until fragrant.
- Add one cup of water to the buckwheat and bring to a boil. Then lower to a simmer and cover.
- Meanwile, slice the mushrooms and fry them in a skillet with butter.
- Season the mushrooms to taste with salt and pepper.
- After a few minutes of simmering, check to see whether the buckwheat needs more water. If it looks dry and isn’t yet tender, add a little more water. You want to add just enough water to keep the buckwheat from drying out. The goal here is tender, yet slightly firm buckwheat, as opposed to buckwheat mush. Towards the end of cooking, remove the cover so that excess liquid evaporates. If a little buckwheat sticks to the pan, do not scrape it up.
- Season the buckwheat with salt and pepper to taste, bearing in mind that you’ve already seasoned the mushrooms.
- Combine the pasta, mushrooms, and buckwheat and correct seasoning. Serve at room temperature or briefly reheat in a pan.
Serves 3-4
November 15th, 2006 at 11:29 pm
Oh, I definitely have to try this! And I think I even have buckwheat sitting forgotten in my cupboard - perfect!
November 16th, 2006 at 6:50 am
Go for it! And let me know how it turns out.
November 16th, 2006 at 8:25 am
Your dish is very interesting… and even more it is the story that comes with it. Thanks for participating.
Ciao.
November 16th, 2006 at 8:43 am
Grazie, Orchidea. Thanks for reading and organizing the event!
November 16th, 2006 at 7:46 pm
Shelly,
Thank you so much for sharing such a lovely and personal comfort dish! I’d never heard of this before and my mouth was watering as you described it. It’s a pleasure to meet you!
November 16th, 2006 at 8:46 pm
Ivonne,
Thank you for stopping by and reading it :). And thanks for organizing such a great event!
November 18th, 2006 at 3:13 am
I, too, was raised on these. Nothing better with roasted meats or foul. But what about the chicken schmaltz?
November 18th, 2006 at 3:43 am
I’ve never heard of this either - and I’m very disappointed that I haven’t, as it looks phenomenal. I love your description of how it tastes - you’ve got my mouth watering! I’m glad that you at least got to learn this dish from your mother =)
November 18th, 2006 at 5:03 am
Thanks for the memories - we call it bowties and kasha and it’s one of my childhood (and my kids) favorite dishes too.
In fact, what would traditional brisket be without it?! Whenever I make it, I see generations around the table - it’s a wonderful visit.
Thanks for sharing.
November 18th, 2006 at 7:25 am
Greg: No chicken schmaltz in my house when I was growing up. Dad had heart disease, and we all had to buckle down, food-wise. But I’ve got a jar of homemade duck schmaltz in the freezer. What could be tastier than warm schmaltz and gribenes with freshly ground pepper on a slice of crusty bread?
Lisa: Oh, do try it out. It’s ever so yummy, particularly if you like buckwheat and mushrooms.
Ruth: Mmm brisket and kashe varnishkes. A great combination indeed. Glad to have evoked a walk down memory lane. Thanks for reading!
November 18th, 2006 at 8:44 am
We love to make this too!
November 18th, 2006 at 1:38 pm
I love your mention of the concoction for a sore throat. In Quebec, Canada we have a similar recipe with whiskey, honey and lemon called a ponce.
November 20th, 2006 at 8:27 am
Wow - what a mouthful!! And that’s just the name of the dish! LOL I don’t believe I’ve ever eaten buckwheat. This does sound interesting, though.
November 21st, 2006 at 6:50 am
Rachel: Isn’t it the yummiest?
Sarah Lou: Interesting! Fascinating how traditional foods can have so much in common across oceans and continents.
Sally: Buckwheat is great stuff. But it’s one of those things you either love or hate.
December 10th, 2006 at 4:19 pm
shelly, what a great story to go with your recipe ;P i can just imagine u on shabbat morning sneaking the bowl of kasha varnishkes! i remember being grossed out by the smell of it and liking how it tasted. kind of strange. thank goodness i got over it. i agree with you though it’s a love/hate relationship people have with kasha.
December 10th, 2006 at 9:21 pm
Hiya, burekaboy! Yep, I was quite the carb-girl as a child. Funny thing about kasha… In Hebrew some people call it “kusemet,” while others deride it as “kusemek” :).
December 11th, 2006 at 12:14 pm
LOL. i’d refrain from the latter but i LOVE it!! must admit, i’ve never heard that one before.
פה חורף כמעט ×”×’×™×¢ וזה כבר זמן להכין ×וכל “קבד” ש×× ×™ ×והב. מה ×ת חושבת?
זמן בשביל כוסמת
?? :-]
December 11th, 2006 at 9:19 pm
Behechlet, higiya hazman levashel kusemet! Vegam chulent, im ata ohev. Oh sofrito, lechilufin (min ma’achal sfaradi im macaronim arukim ve off). Slicha al ha’ivrit be’anglit, ein li karega mikledet im otiyot ivriyot :).