As a brief “time-out” from the vexing discussion of the disgraceful Trump quagmire, we have elected to temporarily comply with readers who have expressed a desire for additional “ancient lore” regarding our 1940’s childhood in the exotic Askenazi Jewish immigrant ambiance of 1940’s Brooklyn, New York. We may have previously attempted to verbally reprise the outdoor, savoury cooking redolence emanating from the tenement dwellings at mealtimes and the variety of comestibles sold by the ubiquitous street food vendors; however, the subject of the commercial sale of ethnic food specialties may permissibly bear some further discussion.
In Eastern European tradition, bread was unquestionably the metaphysically understood, basic life-giver, both symbolically and empirically. The breads of Eastern Europe were heavier and considerably more nutritious than the lighter breads of America and France, and indeed were the “staple of life.” The popular breads of our immigrant neighbors were pumpernickel (dark) and rye (lighter), but never “White Bread.” Challah was the special bread for the Sabbath, sweet Challah for the Sabbath, and round, sweet Challah for the Jewish New Year.
We have bitter-sweet recollections of going to the local bakery (“Segaloff’s”) each week, with maternal instructions to purchase a “two-pound rye and six rolls”, such request responsibly repeated by the elderly, toothless, proprietess, Mrs. Segaloff, in an exotic, liquified rendition; the recollection of the latter request, apparently, eternally available to the nostalgic ear of our ancient recollection.
On the same street as the bakery, “Belmont Avenue,” there stood three ethnically iconic representatives of the representative” cuisine of the local residents. The “Appetizing Store” ( baked and salted fish and savouries, cheeses, bagels, mixed salads, egg, tuna, salmon, herring, whitefish). The harmonious symphony of redolent piquancy was an unspoken but irresistible invitation to breakfast and an irresistible solicitation to purchase.
Two contextually significant iconic institutions were ensconced on the same city block, completing the savoury, ethnic mis-en-scene. These may have, to our recollection, represented the most articulate and ethnically representative institutions, beneficially afforded to the mundane lives and basic culinary experiences of the newly arrived, Eastern European refugees, fleeing from World prosecution; they were the reverential, large wooden barrels, containing, respectively, sour dill pickles and salt herring.
We have never been able to successfully replicate the taste of the dill pickles, fished out for sale from the huge redolent pickle barrel and sold for an individual price of three cents. Notably, we adhered to the empirical theory that such pickles, eaten in the rain, had enhanced taste; however, we were not able to discern whether the dynamics of the empirical result were chemical or emotional.
The fat, salty herrings had their own exclusive taste and were highly prized by our Lithuanian-Russian father, whose available caviar was “Schmaltz” (fat) herring, boiled potato, and pumpernickel bread, the royal repast of Olympian Dieties. The vendor, after fishing out the purchased salot herring from the expansive barrel. would wrap the savoury aquatic delectable, diagonally, in a page of the daily Jewish newspaper.
It has eternally been our contemplative opinion that olfactory and taste recollections are, like “muscle memory,” not the empirical product of cerebral recollection.
-p.
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