以下轉載自: http://www.bbc.com/ukchina/trad/vert-tra-40598672
為什麼以色列並沒有很多「猶太食品」？
薩拉·特裏萊文和傑米·萊文（Sarah
Treleaven and Jamie Levin）
-
2017年 7月 13日
Image
copyrightGETTY IMAGES
Image copyrightALAMYImage caption猶太"伊娃餐館"位於特拉維夫的艾倫比街（圖片來源：M.Sobreira/Alamy）
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage caption名為"latkes"的炸薯餅是猶太美食的主要代表（圖片來源：Owen Franken/Getty Images）
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage caption在猶太人建國早期肉類很稀缺，因此茄子成了首選的食材（圖片來源：Dan Porges/Getty Images）
mage
copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage caption早期的猶太復國主義者接納了諸如沙拉三明治之類的巴勒斯坦菜餚（圖片來源：Photostock
Israel/Getty Images）
特拉維夫（Tel
Aviv）的五月中旬，午後的氣溫正在上升。我坐在"伊娃餐館"（Eva's）裏吃著雞湯餛飩（包肉餡的小餃子）。由於沒有空調，很快我便大汗淋灕。
"伊娃餐館"已經在這條破舊的艾倫比街（Allenby Street）開了 48
年。菜單是典型的阿什肯納茲猶太人（Ashkenazi，或者稱之為東歐猶太人）風格的食物，玻璃展示櫃裏滿是精緻的猶太薯餅（薄煎餅）和清炒花菜。按照通俗的說法，"死面"麵糰（類似灌湯包或灌湯水餃）是"下沉之物"。這意味著它們密度較大，會沉在雞湯碗的碗底。（"漂浮之物"則更輕更鬆軟，它們會浮在碗中。技巧以及個人喜好造就了這個差別。)
Image copyrightALAMYImage caption猶太"伊娃餐館"位於特拉維夫的艾倫比街（圖片來源：M.Sobreira/Alamy）
裏面設有三張單獨的桌子，桌旁分別坐著一位 70
多歲的老人，其中一人正在一邊玩填字遊戲一邊吃一大塊炸雞排。沒有其他生意。"這可不是年輕人吃的東西，"老闆伊娃·沙赫特（Eva
Schachter）說道，他們家祖上是德國人。"這是外婆最喜歡的食物。我能夠記得我的母親和外婆所做烹飪食物的味道。"伊娃笑了，她的髮型略偏中性，下面是一張滿是斑點和皺紋的臉。
對於許多外國遊客而言，最吃驚的事情之一就是很少能在以色列見到廣為人知的猶太經典食品。早餐中的熏製鮭魚、貝果和奶油乳酪去哪裏了？那些在蒙特利爾或洛杉磯常見的猶太特色美味佳餚呢？或者全世界猶太餐館裏都有的"庫格爾"（kugel
，用雞蛋麵或土豆製作的砂鍋）、魚丸凍（用水煮魚製作的開胃菜）和"死面"麵糰湯呢？特拉維夫版《Time
Out》甚至有一個名為"在特拉維夫哪裏能找到最好的猶太菜"的版面，僅有的幾家售賣德系猶太菜品（像"伊娃餐館"那樣）的咖啡館作為代表將它們的菜單和遮陽篷用"猶太菜"標籤裝飾起來，這些是你在附近的沙瓦瑪永遠不會看到的景象。所有這些都明顯地展示出猶太經典美味在這裏有多稀缺。
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage caption名為"latkes"的炸薯餅是猶太美食的主要代表（圖片來源：Owen Franken/Getty Images）
事實上，以色列美食長久以來都與它的直接環境息息相關，呈現出地中海和中東地區傳統與食材的融合特點。早期的猶太復國主義者熱切地接納了巴勒斯坦菜餚，例如沙拉三明治、鷹嘴豆泥和沙瓦瑪，而近年來以色列人的口味變得更加多樣化。然而，"猶太菜"仍然很少見。但是很少有遊客知道以色列猶太美食稀少背後的原因：儘管早期的移民者大多數是來自東歐的德系猶太人，但他們由於食物短缺和特意為了形成新的民族特徵的原因而放棄了猶太菜。
與相對繁榮的美國不同的是，美國的熟食——主要使用臘肉——被從歐洲而來的猶太移民廣泛食用，而財政緊縮是以色列建國初期的一個標誌。在
1948
年以色列建國後的十年中，隨著人口的快速增長，以色列政府實行配給制。國外貨幣的減少導致諸如油、糖和肉等進口原料變得稀缺。燃料，例如天然氣和電，同樣供應短缺；而在烘焙前需要一道額外水蒸工序的貝果烹飪方式太消耗能源。人們將目光轉向大量生長的茄子，發明了如"sabich"之類的食物，一種填充了這種肉嘟嘟蔬菜的皮塔三明治。
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGESImage caption在猶太人建國早期肉類很稀缺，因此茄子成了首選的食材（圖片來源：Dan Porges/Getty Images）
即使在緊縮期結束後，黎凡特的環境也不足夠適合德系猶太人烹飪的發展。牛肉是烹飪黑麥熏牛肉和紅燒牛腩的首要食材，而最開始時，因為炎熱的氣候而無法大量養殖牛。但猶太經典美食並非單單只包括熟食三明治，因此財政緊縮也不能完全解釋猶太菜沒有在這個新國家發揚光大的原因，可能必須要從意識形態方面找原因。
猶太復國計劃的早期擁護者們致力於在如今的以色列地區建立一個猶太國家，力爭要抹除他們過去的痕跡。正如歐洲移民者選擇希伯來語而非意第緒語，以及選擇卡其服裝而非禮服和禮帽，他們也有目的地選擇吃本地菜而非德系猶太菜。"很多最初到此的德系猶太人，也就是那些意識形態的先驅者們，想要切斷他們與過去的聯繫並強調猶太復國計劃的新穎之處，"希伯來大學蘇聯和東歐猶太民族教授索勒·斯坦福（Shaul
Stampfer）解釋道。"而這麼做的途徑之一[就是]通過食物來體現。"
Image copyrightGETTY
IMAGES
Image caption最早的猶太復國主義移民者推廣建立統一的飲食文化（圖片來源：Stuart
Freedman/Getty Images）
接納本地食物為早期歐洲人的進入帶來了一種真實的感覺。選用本地食材，比如那些在沙漠和地中海海岸茁壯生長的蔬菜，並借鑒阿拉伯廚房的一些菜餚，這成為了猶太復國主義故事的一部分。當時的一些廣告甚至央求人們食用當地種植的"希伯來西瓜"。猶太人回到了錫安並通過飲食做出了證明。
後來，隨著從摩洛哥到埃塞俄比亞猶太移民的湧入，每個地方的人們都帶著自己獨特的飲食習慣，建立全國性的飲食文化顯得更加重要。"它們都是隨著來自不同文化和傳統的人們而來，很難說服人們他們是統一的群體。"《沙拉三明治國度：以色列烹飪和國家認同的建立》一書的作者雅艾爾·雷維夫（Yael
Raviv）說道，"他們必須採取一切手段來加強這個國家的統一。食物與猶太人的傳統、隱士教規（猶太飲食規則）聯繫緊密，而以色列經濟的主要驅動力是農業，因此這成為了一個非常有效的工具，並可以用於多種途徑。"
早期的猶太復國主義移民者，其中大部分是德系猶太人，成為了建立統一飲食文化的積極參與者。"早期的移民非常努力地想要在巴勒斯坦的土地上建立新的生活。"雷維夫說道，"這給了他們很大的動力來丟棄一些東西，接受新的東西。"並且雷維夫注意到這種態度有一定的實用主義色彩："如果你無法得到一個東西，那麼就必須要學會在沒有它的情況下生活。"
近年來，以色列人形成了更加多樣化的口味，在特拉維夫的街道上到處可以見到泰國菜和墨西哥菜餐館。然而，猶太菜仍然很少見。一些熟食店想要打入以色列市場——但是目前仍然處於早期階段。一個更加成功的創新者"Deli
Fleishman"將它們的三明治描述為"猶太國度的猶太美食"。儘管他們的"布魯克林"三明治莫名其妙地包含了阿根廷香辣醬，與來自紐約的著名的"Katz's
Deli"大相徑庭。"煙熏和發酵是真正的技巧，"來自費城"Zhhav"餐館的詹姆斯·比爾德美食大獎獲得者、以色列廚師邁克爾·索羅門諾夫（Michael
Solomonov）說道。"直到最近，以色列美國人才開始前往以色列並開始製作熏牛肉。"
Image copyrightGETTY IMAGES
Image
caption直到最近，以色列美國人才開始將熏牛肉帶回以色列（圖片來源：Boston
Globe/Getty Images）
但是，一些更加傳統的德系猶太人烹飪方式取得了更大的成功。作為融合了來自世界各地散佈的猶太傳統的以色列美食運動的最新部分，一些北美和歐洲的特徵開始明顯增多。典型的歐洲猶太美食，例如美味的動物肝臟開始與更多的本地食物（如石榴和鱷梨）一起出現在高端餐館的菜單上。在特拉維夫的"Raz
Rahav's
OCD"餐館，你可以品嚐到蕎麥粥（膨化蕎麥）、鱒魚生魚片以及刺山桔蒜泥蛋黃醬，不同的經典美食。索羅門諾夫非常期待這一烹飪傳統的復興。
"人們很願意尋根，這不是對陳詞濫調的重覆，而是對傳統的慶祝，"他說。"下一個領域將是德系猶太菜。"
但想到伊娃餐館，這裏的德系猶太菜雖然不是未來的潮流或者一個誘人的趨勢；但它是那些已經消失的過去留下的令人感到舒適的痕跡。"我有自己的老主顧，"伊娃說著，一邊朝走進來的一位老人點點頭，老人找了一張桌子坐下，他想品嚐的就是過去的味道。
原文: http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20170607-why-isnt-there-more-jewish-food-in-israel
- By Sarah Treleaven and Jamie Levin
It was mid-May in Tel Aviv and the afternoon
heat was rising. Sitting in Eva’s, a small un-air conditioned restaurant, eating
chicken soup with kreplach (small dumplings filled with ground meat),
sweat formed quickly behind the knees.
Eva’s has been located on this dumpy stretch of Allenby Street for 48 years. The menu is classic Ashkenazi – or Eastern European Jewish – food, and the glass display case is full of prepared potato latkes (pancakes) and fried cauliflower. The matzoh balls (soup dumplings) here are ‘sinkers’, in the common parlance. That means that they’re dense and bready, sitting in the bottom of the bowl of chicken soup. (‘Swimmers’ are lighter and spongier, and they float on the surface. The difference is a question of both skill and personal preference.)
There were three separate tables of single men in their 70s, one of whom was completing a crossword while working away at a large chicken schnitzel. Business was otherwise quiet. “This is not food for young people,” said proprietor Eva Schachter, whose family is originally German. “It’s grandma food. I’m old enough to remember the taste of the food my mother and grandmother used to make.” Eva smiled, her freckled and deeply wrinkled face framed by a gamine haircut.
One of the biggest shocks for many foreign visitors to Israel is the lack of Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine with which they are familiar. Where are the smoked salmon, bagels and cream cheese at breakfast? What about the delis that define 'Jewish cuisine' from Montreal to Los Angeles? Or the kugel
In reality, Israeli cuisine has long been more closely associated with its immediate environment, a fusion of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern traditions and ingredients. The early Zionists eagerly adopted Arab dishes, such as falafel, hummus, and shawarma, while in recent years Israelis have developed a more diversified palate. Still, ‘Jewish food’ remains scarce. But very few visitors know the reasons behind the dearth of it in Israel: despite the fact that many Jews living in Israel can trace their lineage to Eastern Euripe, they forsook traditional Ashkenazi food both because of scarcity but also in deliberate service to the formation of a new national narrative.
Even after austerity ended, the Levantine environment was never quite suited to Ashkenazi cuisine. Cattle, a necessary first step for a pastrami-on-rye or braised brisket, originally failed to flourish in the hot climate. But Ashkenazi food always consisted of more than a deli sandwich, so austerity alone cannot explain its failure to thrive in the new Jewish state – and that’s where ideology comes into play.
Early adherents to the Zionist project, committed to creating a Jewish state in the territory now known as Israel, sought to abandon vestiges of their past. Just as the European settlers favoured Hebrew over Yiddish and khakis over frock coats and homburgs, they also purposefully chose to eat indigenous
The adoption of indigenous food lent the early European implants an air of authenticity. The production of local ingredients – the things that grew well in the desert and along the Mediterranean coastline, and the many dishes adapted from Arab kitchens – became part of the Zionist narrative.
The earliest Zionist settlers, most of whom were Ashkenazi, proved willing participants in the building of this unified food culture. “The early immigrants were very committed to making a new life in the land of Palestine,” said Raviv. “That gave them a high degree of motivation to leave behind certain things and embrace new things.” And Raviv noted that there was a certain pragmatism to this attitude: “If you can’t get something, you have to learn to live without it.”
In recent years, Israelis have developed a more diversified palate, with Thai and Mexican restaurants easy to find on the streets of Tel Aviv. Still, Ashkenazi food remains scarce. Several delicatessens have tried to break into the Israeli market – though the training wheels are still on. One of the more successful entrants, Deli Fleishman, describes their sandwiches as a ‘Jewish taste for the Jewish state’ – although their ‘Brooklyn’ sandwich inexplicably contains Argentinian-style chimichurri and is a far cry from New York’s famous Katz’s Deli. “Smoking and fermenting are a real skill,” said Israeli chef Michael Solomonov, the James Beard Award-winning chef behind Philadelphia’s Zahav restaurant. “Only recently have Jewish Americans come to Israel and started making pastrami.”
Still, some more traditional elements of Ashkenazi cuisine have had greater success. As part of the nouveau Israeli food movement, which is synthesizing diaspora Jewish traditions from around the world, there’s a renewed interest in North American and European contributions. Classic European Jewish fare like chopped liver is starting to work its way onto fusion menus at high-end restaurants alongside more local ingredients like pomegranates and avocados. At Raz Rahav’s OCD restaurant in Tel Aviv, kasha (puffed buckwheat groats) mingle with trout sashimi and caper aioli. Solomonov has great hopes for the resurgence of this culinary tradition.
But back at Eva’s, the Ashkenazi food isn’t a wave of the future or an enticing trend; it’s a comfortable vestige of the disappearing past. “I have my clients,” said Eva, as she nodded towards another older man who walked in, found a table and was offered a taste of a world left behind.
EDITOR’S NOTE: An earlier version of this story implied that Ashkenazi cuisine defined all ‘Jewish’ cuisine. We have made adjustments to the text to clarify that Ashkenazi cuisine, while highly recognisable, does not exemplify all ‘Jewish’ cuisine.
Eva’s has been located on this dumpy stretch of Allenby Street for 48 years. The menu is classic Ashkenazi – or Eastern European Jewish – food, and the glass display case is full of prepared potato latkes (pancakes) and fried cauliflower. The matzoh balls (soup dumplings) here are ‘sinkers’, in the common parlance. That means that they’re dense and bready, sitting in the bottom of the bowl of chicken soup. (‘Swimmers’ are lighter and spongier, and they float on the surface. The difference is a question of both skill and personal preference.)
There were three separate tables of single men in their 70s, one of whom was completing a crossword while working away at a large chicken schnitzel. Business was otherwise quiet. “This is not food for young people,” said proprietor Eva Schachter, whose family is originally German. “It’s grandma food. I’m old enough to remember the taste of the food my mother and grandmother used to make.” Eva smiled, her freckled and deeply wrinkled face framed by a gamine haircut.
One of the biggest shocks for many foreign visitors to Israel is the lack of Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine with which they are familiar. Where are the smoked salmon, bagels and cream cheese at breakfast? What about the delis that define 'Jewish cuisine' from Montreal to Los Angeles? Or the kugel
In reality, Israeli cuisine has long been more closely associated with its immediate environment, a fusion of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern traditions and ingredients. The early Zionists eagerly adopted Arab dishes, such as falafel, hummus, and shawarma, while in recent years Israelis have developed a more diversified palate. Still, ‘Jewish food’ remains scarce. But very few visitors know the reasons behind the dearth of it in Israel: despite the fact that many Jews living in Israel can trace their lineage to Eastern Euripe, they forsook traditional Ashkenazi food both because of scarcity but also in deliberate service to the formation of a new national narrative.
Israeli cuisine has long been more closely associated with its immediate environmentUnlike the relative prosperity of the US, where the deli – which specialises in preserved meats – flourished with the arrival of Jewish immigrants from Europe, the early years of Jewish statehood were marked by austerity. For the first decade following the formation of the state in 1948, the Israeli government imposed rationing on its rapidly growing population. Dwindling foreign currency made imported staples like oil, sugar and meat scarce. Fuel, such as natural gas and electricity, was also in short supply; bagels, which require an extra step of boiling before being baked, were too energy-intensive. The population instead made due with extra helpings of aubergine, which grew in abundance, and spawned such dishes as sabich, a pita sandwich overstuffed with the meaty vegetable.
Even after austerity ended, the Levantine environment was never quite suited to Ashkenazi cuisine. Cattle, a necessary first step for a pastrami-on-rye or braised brisket, originally failed to flourish in the hot climate. But Ashkenazi food always consisted of more than a deli sandwich, so austerity alone cannot explain its failure to thrive in the new Jewish state – and that’s where ideology comes into play.
Early adherents to the Zionist project, committed to creating a Jewish state in the territory now known as Israel, sought to abandon vestiges of their past. Just as the European settlers favoured Hebrew over Yiddish and khakis over frock coats and homburgs, they also purposefully chose to eat indigenous
The adoption of indigenous food lent the early European implants an air of authenticity. The production of local ingredients – the things that grew well in the desert and along the Mediterranean coastline, and the many dishes adapted from Arab kitchens – became part of the Zionist narrative.
The Jewish people had returned to Zion and had the diet to prove itLater, as Jewish immigrants from Morocco to Ethiopia began piling in, each with their own unique style of cooking, the creation a national cuisine became ever more important. “They were grappling with people from different cultures and traditions and it was a challenge to convince them that they belonged together,” said Yael Raviv, author of Falafel Nation: Cuisine and the Making of National Identity in Israel. “They had to use everything and anything to forge this unified nation. Food is so tied to Jewish heritage, laws of kashrut [kosher dietary rules], and the Israeli economy is really driven by agriculture – so it became a very effective tool because it could be used in these various ways.”
The earliest Zionist settlers, most of whom were Ashkenazi, proved willing participants in the building of this unified food culture. “The early immigrants were very committed to making a new life in the land of Palestine,” said Raviv. “That gave them a high degree of motivation to leave behind certain things and embrace new things.” And Raviv noted that there was a certain pragmatism to this attitude: “If you can’t get something, you have to learn to live without it.”
In recent years, Israelis have developed a more diversified palate, with Thai and Mexican restaurants easy to find on the streets of Tel Aviv. Still, Ashkenazi food remains scarce. Several delicatessens have tried to break into the Israeli market – though the training wheels are still on. One of the more successful entrants, Deli Fleishman, describes their sandwiches as a ‘Jewish taste for the Jewish state’ – although their ‘Brooklyn’ sandwich inexplicably contains Argentinian-style chimichurri and is a far cry from New York’s famous Katz’s Deli. “Smoking and fermenting are a real skill,” said Israeli chef Michael Solomonov, the James Beard Award-winning chef behind Philadelphia’s Zahav restaurant. “Only recently have Jewish Americans come to Israel and started making pastrami.”
Still, some more traditional elements of Ashkenazi cuisine have had greater success. As part of the nouveau Israeli food movement, which is synthesizing diaspora Jewish traditions from around the world, there’s a renewed interest in North American and European contributions. Classic European Jewish fare like chopped liver is starting to work its way onto fusion menus at high-end restaurants alongside more local ingredients like pomegranates and avocados. At Raz Rahav’s OCD restaurant in Tel Aviv, kasha (puffed buckwheat groats) mingle with trout sashimi and caper aioli. Solomonov has great hopes for the resurgence of this culinary tradition.
The next frontier will be Ashkenazi food“People are getting really excited about their roots, and it’s less about the clichés and more about celebrating traditions,” he said. “The next frontier will be Ashkenazi food.”
But back at Eva’s, the Ashkenazi food isn’t a wave of the future or an enticing trend; it’s a comfortable vestige of the disappearing past. “I have my clients,” said Eva, as she nodded towards another older man who walked in, found a table and was offered a taste of a world left behind.
EDITOR’S NOTE: An earlier version of this story implied that Ashkenazi cuisine defined all ‘Jewish’ cuisine. We have made adjustments to the text to clarify that Ashkenazi cuisine, while highly recognisable, does not exemplify all ‘Jewish’ cuisine.
沒有留言:
張貼留言