Yehi Ratzons - A Rosh Hashannah Seder For A Sweet New Year

An almost universal custom in Judaism is to start the Rosh Hashannah seudah (meal) by saying Yehi Ratzon (a prayer for a good and sweet year) and dipping an apple in honey - the honey of course to symbolize the sweet year we're praying for.

There are some whose custom is to just say that one Yehi Ratzon, indeed many Askenazim (Jews of most recently European descent) have that custom. Now truth be told, a couple of generations back I'm mainly Polish, so I could get away with that. But that's no fun. No sir, not at all.

My eyes were opened when we were invited by Sephardi (Jews of Middle Eastern descent, basically anyone who isn't Ashkenazi) friends in Jerusalem for the Rosh Hashannah seudah. Not only did they do one Yehi Ratzon after another, each on a different symbolic food, but they served a wonderful dish made with that food each time. Without getting into any arguments, I hope, about changing one's customs a bit - we've fully adopted the Yehi Ratzon's and try to find a creative dish to sample for each. Indeed we've even made up an elaborate Rosh Hashannah Seder sheet, and had a bunch of copies laminated, enough for all of our guests most years to have a copy of the prayers and explanations to read as we go along.

This year we're eating out at the house of an elderly couple who can't get out, and together with another couple all three families are pitching in to cook. Among other things (such as the wife's wonderful Challah, made with honey instead of sugar), we drew the majority of the Yehi Ratzons. So....here we go.

After the apple dipped in honey, we turn to beets - chosen because the Aramaic word for beets is 'silka' and the Hebrew word is 'selek,' both of which sound like the Hebrew word 'sileik,' which means 'to remove,' which is what we hope will happen to our enemies. (The exact order of the Yehi Ratzons, other than starting with apples and honey, is not set in stone, by the way. You also don't get demerits if you don't do one or another).

In past years I've often made Harvard beets. This year the vote was for a beet salad. Now one could buy fresh beets, trim the tops, boil in water until tender (maybe an hour and a half), then let them cool somewhat, cut off the top, slips off the skins, and cut them up. Alternately one could cheat and buy a can of cooked beets. It being Rosh Hashannah, I can not tell a lie. I cheated and used two cans of beets, instead of two pounds fresh. Just do remember that the canned beets need kosher certification, since they are cooked.

Cut the beets in bite size pieces, and marinate them for at least a few hours. The marinade I used, for two pounds (cans) consisted of two tablespoons of sugar, the juice of two lemons (well, the equivalent using Realemon), a couple of tablespoons of olive oil (did I mention extra virgin?), a big pinch or two of cinnamon (to taste), a couple of tablespoons of chopped parsley, and a bit of salt (to taste, or leave it out). I also threw in some finely sliced red onion. Gee, and that's just the second of what will be NINE (9) Yehi Ratons!

Next we do pomegranate, one of the traditional symbols of Israel and the New Year. The Kabbalah says that a pomegranate has 613 seeds, one for each of the mitzvot in the Torah. I have it on good authority that a reasonably large number of Jewish children - and some incredulous adults - have actually counted the seeds. I also hear that many say that their total was different. Well, all I can say is that 613 is no doubt the average, not the count for each and every pomegranate. So don't go and spoil a good explanation.

In any case, what we're doing again this year is cutting up the pomegranate, taking out the seeds, and passing them around in a bowl. Now I admit that's not really creative, and I do see a bunch of great looking pomegranate recipes on the POM web site. So I'm already thinking of next year. Or maybe even the next week or two, on Succot.

Next come dates, in Hebrew 'tamar.' That's similar to another Hebrew word, 'tam,' which appears in another word, 'sheyitamu." And THAT means 'may they cease to exist,' which is what we're hoping for our enemies.

In any case, we aren't responsible for the dates, nor for the next Yehi Ratzon, which is squash, so I'm anxious to see what our friends cook up with those two - I've already been promised squash and rice. One could, of course, just eat the dates plain. The squash too, for that matter. Squash, or 'k'ra,' is by the way the first food mentioned in the Gemarra, and the name among other things sounds similar to the word for 'tear.' We're praying that any evil decree against us in Heaven be torn up.

Continuing, we come to leeks. That food was chosen because leek in Aramaic is 'karthi,' which is similar to the Hebrew word 'karet,' which mean to cut off, destroy or decimate - which is what we're asking be done to our enemies.

In some years I've simply sliced the leeks and served them. That's hasn't proved too popular. Sauteed leeks got somewhat higher grades.But this year I'm out for the kill - I made Leek Fritters, or 'Keftes de Prasa, ' using a variant of Sephardic recipes I found in a pile of cookbooks.

For this recipe I'm using about two pounds of leeks, (weight before they're cleaned). That's three great big leeks, but it could take twice as many to make two pounds if you have only a little leak (oy, them's the jokes folks).

We start by cleaning the leeks - cut and off and discard the stem, most of the green part, and any loose layers. Then slice the leeks lengthwise, and then crosswise in roughly half inch slices. These go into a big bowl of cold water and get swished around - it is not to check for bugs. It is to wash out any dirt left in the leek. Finally lift out the leek with a slotted spoon and put in a colander. DO NOT just pour into the colander. Any dirt, you see, should have settled to the bottom of the bowl. It's sort of like gold panning (What, you've never panned for gold? Gee, visit Colorado, buy a pan, and I'll teach you!) except the stuff on the bottom isn't the shiny stuff, its the dirt.

We now cook the chopped up leeks. One could cover them with salted water, bring to a boil, and then simmer until the leeks are tender, which could take three quarters of an hour. Then you'd have to drain them, and squeeze out the water. Gee, it's so much easier to just nuke them for 15 minutes. No added water needed, just what's clinging to them.

While the leeks are cooling down (stick 'em in the refrigerator, or even freezer) take three Matzahs, break them up and soak in water. One could use some sort of nice bread, I guess. Do cut off the crust if you do. (And yes, this recipe could be made for Passover for those who, like me, don't choose to follow the somewhat curious custom of gebrokts.)

Now, squeeze the water out of the matzah, mix with the cooled leeks, and add (for the two pounds of leeks) two beaten eggs, a teaspoon of salt, and a half teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper (okay, jarred pepper if you must, but I warn you it won't be quite as good). At times of the year other than Rosh Hashannah when the custom is not to eat nuts (for reasons I find a bit obscure) one could also add a half cup or so of chopped walnuts. I mixed by hand, but one could use a food processor. If it all feels a bit too moist to hold together, add some matzoh meal - I used a bit over a 1/4 cup, so let's say 3/8 of a cup.

We now shape the batter into patties, about two inches round and half an inch thick. These take a little deft handling so that they don't fall apart but don't be fooled - after cooking they will be just fine. I get about 16 little patties out of two pounds of leeks. In theory that would be enough for 16 people to each have one for the Yehi Ratzon but let's get real - these are so good everyone will want seconds. Each of the patties is then coated with matzoh meal. Very carefully, so they don't fall apart.

We're getting there. While doing the above we were, of course, heating up a frying pan with an inch or so of oil (please use good oil, say canola, or even cooking-grade olive oil). And of course the next step is obvious - the leek patties are fried, being turned once. Say four minutes on a side.

I do suggest putting the patties in the hot oil by sliding them off a spatula, rather than attempting to put them in by hand. Not only may they fall apart if you handle them too much, you could well be burned by a tiny drop of the hot oil, at  which point you will drop the pattie and it will definitely break into itty bitty pieces. But that's not the problem any more - its the splash the pattie could make when you scream and drop it - splashed oil that may hit your hand, which could mean a trip to the burn ward of the local hospital. And that definitely is not what we want just before Rosh Hashannah.

Assuming no such untoward incident, finish up by retrieving the cooked leek fritters with a slitted spoon (actually I prefer to use a flatter soup skimmer). Drain on paper towels. Serve immediately while hot, perhaps sprinkling a little salt on, and with some lemon wedges is nice. Alternately, put in the refrigerator (or even freezer, to keep longer), and then reheat before serving.

We're down to the last three Yehi Ratzons, and around my house we've developed what might be a unique custom of our own. But first  I'll explain the Yehi Ratzon's: on carrots,  fish, and a head.

Carrots, in yiddish, is 'mehren,' which has a second meaning: to increase. We ask that our merits increase. Some, meanwhile, use fenugreek, which in Aramaic is 'rubia,' which sounds similar to the Hebrew word for increase, which is 'yirbu.' Fish are chosen because the reproduce in large numbers and we should recall that the first commandment given to man was 'be fruitful and multiply.' Finally the head (we use a fish head, as you'll see, but some even use the head of a sheep. The cooked head of a sheep, which they eat. We have a friend who does that and I'm just dying to be invited to his house for Rosh Hashannah.). In any case, it says in the Torah, in the book Devarim, that the Jews will be "as a head and not as a tail."

So...our way of doing it. I cook a whole fish, with carrots, and serve it up. Thus we have the fish head, the fish itself, and the carrot all in one dish.

My choice of fish this year, and most years, is whole trout. Now without a question the best way to obtain those trout would be to catch them in any of the thousands of beautiful trout streams here in Colorado. But alas I didn't buy a fishing license this year, so it's off to Costco, which usually has beautiful whole trout at a good price - without the need for a license.  One disappointment this year was that one of the four trout I bought wasn't cleaned very well - it still had most of its guts inside, and one eye was missing - not at all Costco quality. Still, it was a pretty good fairly fresh trout (packed a day earlier according to the label), and obviously  I don't mind cleaning fish.

(Oh, and I do still shop at Costco, although I'm furious that they're still selling treif Pita with an unauthorized kosher certification on the package.)

My method of preparing the fish is super simple. At least I think it is. I poach them in a court bouillon. Now some say poaching is becoming a lost art in America, but really it's the only way to make this dish. And the term court bouillon sounds fancy, but really it isn't. The French just want to impress us. A court bouillon is any liquid in which you poach things, and could be as simple as salt water. Could be simple, but not if you want really nice fish.

To a couple of quarts of water in my fish cooker (You don't have a fish cooker, you say? Shame on you. Its' a long pot that covers two burners. It's supposed to have a lift-out internal tray to make it easier to get a fish out, although one of the handles on mine broke and I can't find a replacement tray. A new good  fish pot is at least $40-$60, so I just struggle).

But I digressed. To a couple of quarts of water I added a half a cup of chopped celery, a sliced up onion (sliced and then each slice cut in half), a quarter cup of chopped parsley (fresh is best, dried works), a bay leaf, a tablespoon of chopped fresh thyme or teaspoon of dried, the same of basil (I used dried for both, phooey), two cloves of finely chopped garlic, a dozen black peppercorns, teaspoon of salt, quarter cup of vinegar (you could use white wine vinegar, but I discovered mine had become cloudy, so I used rice vinegar), and finally a quarter cup of white wine. Now puh-lease do NOT use that horrid stuff sold as "cooking wine." Use regular wine. Stuff you'd gladly drink. Follow this rule: If you wouldn't drink the wine, then don't cook with it either.

Bring to a boil, keep at a low boil for half an hour, and voila, a court bouillon fit for a king. Or at least a French gourmet.

The rest of it is simple. Put the whole, cleaned trout in the fish pot. Mine is big enough to hold two nice size trout at a time. Lower heat to simmer. Poach for 15-20 minutes, depending on the size of the fish. Then very carefully lift out of the liquid. When all my fish are done, I take out the whole cooked carrots, slice them and put on the fish, which is then chilled and served cold. If it weren't Rosh Hashannah I'd serve the fish with horseradish sauce, but horseradish just doesn't fit the spirit of the day, so instead I offer up tartar sauce.

And we end our Yehi Ratzons with the "first course" of our Rosh Hashanna meal .... one half a trout  per person, the flesh defty removed from the bones and served with some of the carrot.

By popular demand (um, would somebody demand, please?) the rest of the meal, in brief: Vegetable soup; Israeli salad; whole roast turkey; cranberry-orange sauce (I bought a pile of cranberries cheap right after Thanksgiving, and froze them); carrot kugel; squash and rice; and of course Honey Cake for desert.