Honey and Bee Stings: Facing the Good and Bad at Rosh Hashana

I think this is a meeting of the Workman's Circle Credit Union. My grandmother, Fannie Smith, is fifth from the left on the second row from bottom. My grandfather< Max Smith, is second from the left on the top row.

It’s hard to believe, but a month from now I’m going to be elbows-deep in preparing for Rosh Hashana.

Since it starts on a Friday night, I’ll probably bake my challahs on that Wednesday night or Thursday and make chicken soup the next night. I’m making tzimmes for the first time in decades and will make that a few days ahead for the flavors to mix. (My version of the stew-like dish will be made with stew beef, lemon slices, sweet potatoes, carrots and dates because I am not a fan of prunes, which are traditional.)

Another decision I’ve already made is what to do about dessert. My mother made the most amazing honey cake, which is traditionally served during the High Holidays, but none of us has been able to really replicate it. Her handwriting can be difficult to read in places, and it is not clear at one point whether you are supposed to “heat” or “beat” one mixture that goes into it. I periodically make a stab at it, and the cake turns out okay – sometimes even good – but it is not hers, which is disappointing.

(She always got extremely fresh honey from our friends who owned York Bee Company locally, and I’ve often wondered if that was the secret ingredient that made her cakes so special.)

The problem with honey cake other than the one made by my mother is that, while it is delicious when fresh and moist, it can dry out very quickly. One solution is to keep the cake wrapped and in a tin can or Tupperware but, even then, it doesn’t always maintain its freshness. My solution this year is to make honey cake in mini Bundt pans, keep it in the freezer and only take out exactly what I need for each meal.

When I checked the mailbox today, the silicone muffin pans in the shape of mini-Bundt cakes had arrived in technicolor pink and aqua. Why the Bundt cake you might ask? I think it makes a pretty cake, but a lot of my attraction is nostalgia and my somewhat nerdy obsession with little-known history.

According to Wikipedia, the shape is inspired by a traditional European cake known as Gugelhupf, but, nowadays, Bundt cakes can be any type. “The style of mold in North America was popularized in the 1950s and 1960s after cookware manufacturer Nordic Ware trademarked the name 'Bundt' and began producing Bundt pans from cast aluminum. Publicity from Pillsbury saw the cakes gain widespread popularity,” according to the explanation.

One possible etymology is from the word “bund,” which is found in Jewish-American cookbooks from around the start of the 20th century. The alternative spelling "bundte" also appeared in a recipe as early as 1901, according to Wikipedia.

And therein lies the nostalgia. “Bund” is often translated in Yiddish as “union.” It also was part of the name of a secular socialist Jewish party during the Russian Revolution, which urged Jews not to leave Eastern Europe – which was ignored by many. When immigrants like my four grandparents came to the United States to escape anti-Semitism and pogroms in that part of the world, they created groups to help them survive and build new lives. Among those were credit unions (aktsiyes in Yiddish)  and free loan societies.

The popular name for the groups was “bunds.” For get-togethers, the ladies in those groups brought cakes. In the old country, they had used kugelhopfs, a tall pan with a hole in the center that allowed the heat to penetrate the cake’s middle and ensure that the dough cooked evenly, and continued that tradition in America. The cakes they made and the pans they used became known as “bundt.”  

For those of us in southeast Georgia, the Workmen’s Circle Credit Union in Savannah – one of those credit unions -- enabled hundreds, if not thousands, of Jewish entrepreneurs to start and maintain small businesses throughout the area. (See the photo above of a meeting of the group, probably in the 1950s.)

I never realized quite how it worked until I was a young adult, maybe in my late 20s,  and needed a new car. My father knew of a good deal at a local dealership in my hometown, Jesup,  and suggested that I contact the Workman’s Circle Credit Union for financing. I called them and told them who I was and what I needed. Two days later, in the mail,  I had a check from them and the paperwork to fill out for the loan, which I returned properly. It might seem like a step or two was missing in the loan approval process, but they had worked with my family for years and knew we were good for it.

{By the way, the car I got was one of the notorious X cars – a Pontiac Phoenix. After front-wheel drive cars became more common in the U.S., mainly because of foreign cars, General Motors decided to create X-bodies, the first American-developed front-wheel drive cars introduced for the high-volume, mainstream market. They were filled with design defects, and the vast majority of the time since then, I’ve owned Japanese cars, primarily Toyota/Lexus products.}

So, I love the idea of small honey bundt cakes, how they look, how evenly they cook and how simple they will be to serve. But that isn’t the only traditional food I’ll offer.

Symbolic foods for Rosh Hashana include leeks, pomegranate, gourds (including squashes), dates, black-eyed peas, apples & honey, beets, carrots and fish heads.

I’ll start the meal with the traditional round challah, making both plain and raisin egg bread. We’ll also have apples and honey (as well as a pomegranate as the “new fruit” for the season.)

Then I’ll have baked gefilte fish in a spicy tomato sauce. (I recognize that’s not the same as a fish head, but that’s the best the delicate sensibilities of my guests will allow.)

The first course will be followed by matzo ball soup, which has leeks as an ingredient. The tzimmes will include carrots, as well as dates. I’m also serving a roast turkey breast as a main dish for my dozen or so guests on the first night (the eve) of Rosh Hashana.

The side dishes include black-eyed peas, pickled beets and a squash/zucchini salad with corn and crushed smoky almonds, a recipe I found in a recent Southern Living issue. Here is the link: https://www.southernliving.com/corn-and-squash-salad-7556364

(I plan to briefly blanch the squashes and corn before making the salad, but I’m sure the original recipe is great also.)

Those nicely incorporate several of the symbolic foods, called simanin, signs and indicators in Hebrew. The blessings for the foods include prayers for a favorable year ahead.

Filling out the sides are couscous and broccoli kugel for balance. Dessert will be the mini honey cakes and fruit. (Because I’m serving meat, nothing in the meal will include dairy products.)

As I prepare the food, I’ll think about past holidays. One that often comes to mind is the Rosh Hashana meal with the blind cantor, probably around 1992 or 1993. My cousins came for lunch on the first day at my World War I-era house in the old Atlanta neighborhood of Virginia Highland. The four kids were running in and out of the house, and one of them must have let in a wasp.

Joining us for the meal was a man hired to chant the services at the synagogue my husband and I attended less than a mile away.  He was staying with us over the holiday at the request of the synagogue and was notable for three reasons -- he disliked dogs although we had two labs; he smoked which we despised in our house, and he had very limited ability to see. For years, we have referred to him as “the blind cantor.”

The blessing over the wine was being recited when my first cousin Barbara was stung by the wasp. Unlike me, she wasn’t allergic, although the sting was painful, but she insisted she was fine. The blind cantor would hear none of it. He jumped up to get his cigarettes and pulled tobacco out of one of them.

He then tried to apply the tobacco to my cousin’s arm. She wasn’t happy about that and tried to pull away. In the tussle, the cantor knocked over the carafe of red wine, despite my husband’s efforts to throw himself across the table and catch it. It flooded my best tablecloth, which had been embroidered by the grandmother of my cousins and me. Chaos ensued. Dogs were barking, children were yelling, wine was dripping onto the rug on the floor, etc.

I don’t know what the blind cantor was thinking. Had he forgotten he couldn’t see her arm, let alone apply tobacco to a tiny dot? And shouldn’t he have asked her permission?

Somehow, we were able to mop up the wine, put on a new tablecloth and serve the meal. Barbara, Babs to us, felt better after I gave her a Benadryl, and we ended up having a lovely day.

It might have seemed like a disaster at the time, but now I laugh every time I think about it. This year, the chuckles are mixed with a few tears because my cousin Barbara died of cancer a few months ago. My husband, who later had some mental health issues, died in December 2022, less than two months after we divorced. Last year was the first Rosh Hashana I had spent without him since 1991.

But, life goes on. Some of the same cousins who were there that day will be with me this year. At the table will be two of my godchildren, my first cousins’ grandson and two foreign exchange students who weren’t even born yet in 1991. We’ll make new memories that hopefully won’t involve wasp stings and spilled red wine.

I’m wishing all of us a sweet New Year, as symbolized by the honey cakes, but also am emphasizing the importance of remembering how we got where we are, as symbolized by the Bundt cake shapes.

As the greeting goes this time of year, “May all of you be written down and inscribed for a good year.”

I keep kosher but am not a vegetarian of any kind. My guests have a range of eating issues, however. Here’s how I make vegan field peas (usually black-eyed) either dried, fresh or frozen.

If I’m using dried, I always soak them covered in water overnight and then drain and rinse them before using. Fresh or frozen go into the pot as is.

Spray the insert of your Instant Pot or other type of pressure cooker with oil. Briefly saute half a chopped small jalapeno (seeds and membrane removed if you don’t want it to be too hot) and a half cup of chopped onions in some neutral oil – canola, grapeseed, etc.

Add field peas. Season with a dash of Liquid Smoke, two teaspoons of smoked paprika, chicken soup powder or two crushed bullion squares. Add a cup of water or just enough to cover the peas, according to how much liquid you want. (If you prefer, skip the bullion and just cook in chicken broth). Cook on high pressure for 10 minutes, allowing the device to naturally release for 15 minutes.

Adjust seasoning to your preference. You can serve them warm or turn them into a salad by mixing them with chopped celery, chopped red pepper, chopped green onions and chopped parsley or cilantro for an easy salad with a dressing made with a quarter cup of Italian dressing with a teaspoon or two of Dijon mustard stirred in. Refrigerate the salad for a few hours or overnight and serve at room temperature.