Thank you, Sorry, Hallelujah
And a pantry pasta with brown butter, schug, confit tomatoes & fish
I’ve been absent here, you may have noticed. As the hostage crisis grinded on and the situation in Gaza deteriorated, all hope felt lost. I spent the end of the summer and the Jewish holiday season sleeping fitfully and hoping for an end to the war, seeking an energetic shift as well as an actual one. I would watch videos of Rachel Goldberg Polin somehow finding faith, and feeling guilty that I had lost some of my own. Things just weren’t tasting good. There were lots of cheese sandwiches, food delivery, and restaurants. I’d been avoiding my kitchen, a place of emotion where it’s almost impossible to hide from myself and my feelings.
And then, just like that, the news came in. The hostages were coming home. Two years of tragedy were coming to an end. A cease-fire was to take hold. Underused mental muscles including optimism, relief, even (dare I say) joy rushed back in as we watched helicopters fly overhead, ferrying the 20 remaining hostages from hell to the hospitals ready to take them.
Tens of thousands looked up and cheered as twin brothers Gali and Zivi Berman were shown the crowd that had spontaneously gathered below to watch their return. I wept as Bar Kuperstein’s father, confined to a wheelchair, rose to hug his son, his guttural shrieks of pain and relief piercing our collective emotional veil.
Avinatan Or, 40 percent of his body weight left behind in the tunnels, melted into his girlfriend Noa Argamani’s arms. I hope they are relishing every moment. The body of Inbar Hayman, the last remaining female hostage, was brought home and laid to rest. The stories of these 20 living hostages and the 28 deceased ones have already spawned hundreds more, and I’ve been as attached to the images and clips and news reports as the rest of us.
A few months ago, on a Saturday night at Hostage Square, I met Idit Ohel, the mother of then-captive Alon. Serene and centered, she told me that her son loved to cook almost as much as he loved to play piano. Eli Sharabi, whose account of captivity, Hostage, hit the New York Times bestseller list this week, had come back from captivity in January reporting that he had been held with Alon. He said that one of the ways Alon kept his mind sharp and his creativity flowing was by creating recipes in his mind and reciting them out loud: Every step of making a sandwich, the ingredients in a pan of brownies, the method of favorite Shabbat dishes. I told Idit that I would wait for Alon to come home, and would love to cook for (or with) him any time he likes.
All of a sudden, cooking has become much easier. Today I cleaned out the fridge and veggie supply. First I slow-roastied tomatoes before suspending them in jars of good olive oil. They’ll hold for a while in the fridge and are so buttery, almost creamy, deliciously concentrated in flavor. They will find their way into sandwiches, into eggs, into soups and stews–anyhere a sundried tomato might go.
Next, a batch of schug with all the errant garlic cloves and half-bunches of herbs and some chilies that were looking for their next life. I never tire of this fiery Yemenite hot sauce, which finds its way into marinades, dressings.
Since I had an idea for the pasta recipe written below, I left out my usual cardamom out of the schug to make it more “neutral.” For the pasta, I built a simple sauce by browning some butter, then adding schug, its spice was mellowed by the butter’s rich, round, toasty notes. In went the cooked pasta and some of its starchy water, parm, and then those luscious, velvety confit tomatoes and the simply cooked fish. I folded in the fish, but if you prefer, you can just set it on top or leave it out for a veggie pasta). And Alon and Idit, just say the word and I’ll be at your door, apron on, ready to make you anything your heart desired.
Pantry Pasta With Schug, Brown Butter, Confit Tomatoes & Fish
Serves 4
¾ pound thick skinless thick whitefish fillets, patted dry and cut into 1 ½-inch chunks
¼ cup plus 3 tablespoons schug
1 tablespoon olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
8 ounces dry pasta (shape of your choice)
¼ cup unsalted butter
¼ cup finely shredded parmigiano reggiano cheese, plus more for serving
Freshly ground black pepper
Confit Tomatoes (recipe below, or oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes)
Combine the fish, 3 tablespoons of schug, and the olive oil in a bowl and gently fold to coat the fish. Thread onto skewers. Let marinate on the counter if making everything right away, or pop in the fridge until ready to use (for up to 12 hours). Fill a pot halfway with generously salted water. Bring to a boil. Cook the pasta al dente. Drain, reserving ½ cup pasta water. While the pasta is cooking, heat a grill pan or griddle over high heat. Brush with neutral oil and grill the fish, seasoning with salt as you cook, until just cooked through and a brown crust forms on the outside, 3 to 4 minutes per side (you can also just oven roast the fish at 350°F for about 10 mins.) Remove to a plate, push off the skewers, and cover to keep warm. In the same pot you used to cook the pasta, heat the butter over medium high-heat until foamy, small brown flecks form, and your kitchen smells like hazelnuts and toast, 3 to 4 minutes. Stir in the schug, then return the pasta to the pot along with ¼ cup of the pasta water; the pasta will be slightly creamy. Gently fold in the fish and as many confit or sundried tomatoes as you like. Season with salt and pepper, divide among bowls and garnish with more parm.
Confit Tomatoes
Makes as much as you want
Tomatoes
Salt
Olive oil
If using vine-ripened or Roma, core and halve the tomatoes. If using cherry tomatoes, leave them whole. Preheat the oven to 275°F/130C. Arrange the tomatoes, cut sides up, on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Drizzle generously with olive oil and season lightly with salt. Oven-roast until the tomatoes shrivel, darken, and lose most of their liquid, 3 to 4 hours. Remove from the oven, cool completely, pack into jam jars (I wash mine, including the tops, in hot, soapy water, then dry well before using), then fill to the top with olive oil. Refrigerate for up to 1 month. Bring to room temperature for at least 1 hour to liquify the oil, which will have hardened in the fridge. You can also run the jar under hot water (make sure it’s well sealed) to get the process going.
Schug
Makes 2 cups
2 cups tightly packed fresh cilantro, leaves and tender stems
2 cups tightly packed fresh parsley, leaves and tender stems
20 garlic cloves (about ⅔ cup)
10 to 12 medium jalapeños (about 6 ounces) or 6 to 8 medium serrano peppers, stemmed and coarsely chopped but not seeded
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more to cover
In the bowl of a food processor, combine the cilantro, parsley, garlic, jalapeños, salt, cumin, black pepper, and lemon juice and pulse 15 to 20 times, then process until smooth, about 1 minute, stopping and scraping down the bowl once if necessary. The mixture may seem a bit pulpy at first, but it will come together. If you need to, add water by the tablespoonful to get the contents of the processor running. Drizzle in the olive oil and pulse very briefly. Transfer the schug to one 2-cup jar with a tight-fitting lid (or two 1-cup jars with tight-fitting lids) and cover with a very thin slick of olive oil. Store in the refrigerator, schug lasts for up to 1 month.




Dearest: You have a heart of gold... Here in America we rejoice with you at the return of the hostages. Perhaps this wondrous initial momentum towards peace can continue. Let's hope so.