Potato Pancakes All Around
by Marilyn Hirsh
On a cold winter afternoon, Samuel the peddler walked down the road to a
village.
He passed children sliding and sledding and skating.
\”The children are out of school early,” he said to himself, \”because
tonight is the first night of Hanukkah.”
When Samuel reached the village, it was almost dark. He knocked on the
door of a house. Mama opened the door and smiled at the peddler.
\”A guest is always welcome,” she said. \”Come in. We are just lighting
the first candle.”
So they all sang the blessings together.
The two grandmothers went to the stove.
\”Aha,” thought Samuel, \”now they’ll start making potato pancakes.”
\”We’ll use my recipe,” Grandma Yetta said firmly.
\”No, mine is better!” answered Grandma Sophie.
\”Who needs recipes?” said Samuel the peddler. \”I’ll show you how to
make potato pancakes from a crust of bread!”
\”Some say for potato pancakes a pickle, a fish, or a cabbage is good,”
Samuel continued, \”but I say a crust of bread is best.”
\”Ridiculous,” said Grandma Yetta.
Potato pancakes, called latkes in Yiddish, are a favorite Hanukkah
food.
\”That’s crazy,” said Grandma Sophie.
\”We’re hungry!” cried the twins.
\”So let’s try the peddler’s idea,” said Mama.
Samuel took a bowl from his sack. \”Who wants to hold it?” he asked.
\”We do!” yelled the twins.
Samuel carefully grated a crust of bread into the bowl. \”It looks
delicious,” he announced. \”But it needs a little water.”
The grandmothers wouldn’t even look.
The peddler tasted the batter. \”Some would say it needs salt … a
little pepper, perhaps?”
\”Even I know it needs salt and pepper,” said Papa.
by Efraim Rosenzweig
\”Well, if you insist, I wouldn’t say no,” replied the peddler. And he
added salt and pepper.
Samuel noticed a chicken looking in the window. \”I think this chicken
is trying to tell me something. But what could a chicken say?” \”I
know!” cried Rachel. \”The chicken is telling you to add eggs.”
\”I have heard of that,” agreed the peddler. And he added six eggs.
\”He takes advice from chickens,” said Grandma Yetta.
\”Do you have any suggestions?” he asked her politely.
\”May you grow like an onion with your head in the ground!” she shouted.
\”Ah, onions! A good idea,” said Samuel.
So David hurried to chop some onions.
Samuel smiled. \”Any minute now, we’ll have potato pancakes.”
\”But what about the potatoes?” asked Sarah. \”I grated all these
potatoes, all by myself.”
\”It’s not in my recipe,” said Samuel, \”but it’s a sin to waste food.
So what can it hurt? I’ll add your potatoes.”
And he did.
\”What will you fry the potato pancakes in?” asked Grandma Yetta and
Grandma Sophie at the same time.
\”In a frying pan,” answered Samuel. And he took one from his sack.
\”Chicken fat is best,” insisted Grandma Yetta.
\”You may be right,” said Samuel.
\”Goose fat is better,” declared Grandma Sophie.
\”I wouldn’t say no,” Samuel replied.
So Samuel took a big spoonful of chicken fat and a big spoonful of goose
fat and began to fry the potato cakes. Delicious smells filled the
house.
Samuel kept on frying. More and more potato pancakes piled up.
Finally, it was time to eat. So they ate and ate and ate potato pancakes
all around. Even
Grandma Yetta and Grandma Sophie agreed that the potato pancakes were
the best ever.
And they danced.
And they sang.
And they played games until very late.
Grandma Yetta and Grandma Sophie gave the children pennies.
Then everyone went to sleep.
The next morning, the family begged Samuel to stay for the whole eight
days of Hanukkah.
\”Thank you,” said Samuel, \”but a peddler must move along. I know
you’ll have a happy Hanukkah . . . now that you can make potato pancakes
from a crust of bread.”
