June 9, 2015

Kishke

Poor celery. It's pretty much just the carrots' armchair
Let me start off by saying you're welcome. Kishke, according to wikipedia, refers to a variety of different types of sausages from all over Eastern Europe. This is a recipe for a Jewish kishke, because it's awesome, and because it's what I know. Traditionally, to make this you'd take some leftover scraps of vegetables from your hut, mash them up with some fat and some starch, stuff it all into a piece of intestine you have lying around (It was a different time. A far more gross time. Then again, we're responsible for Justin Bieber and Honey Boo Boo, so who am I to judge?), and cook the living hell out of it. This mostly hasn't changed.

Ingredients:

5 Carrots
4 Celery Stalks
2 Standard-Issue Onions
Approximately 2 Cups of Flour
3/4 Cup Schmaltz (For the non-Jewish amongst you, this is a rendered chicken fat. It's not necessarily present in all Jewish cooking, but if it seems like something a Jewish grandmother would have made, it's probably got Schmaltz in it. If you're a wuss, you can replace it with oil. Otherwise, you can buy it at kosher markets, or even make it yourself. There are a bunch of hilarious tutorial videos. I like this one. I don't know anything about this guy other than I'm calling him the Minnesota Hipster. I'd personally add some onions and a pinch of salt to his recipe, but Minnesota Hipsters...whatcha gonna do?)
1 TBSP Salt
1 TBSP Smoked Paprika
1 tsp Garlic Powder
1/2 tsp Black Pepper

The first thing you're gonna need to do is pray. Because this is another recipe that involves our favorite kitchen device/blood-thirsty monster, the box grater! Peel your carrots and your onion, wash your celery, and set your affairs in order. And then grate the hell out of all of the aforementioned vegetation. Now, the more observant of you will have noticed that the typical box grater has, in addition to an insatiable bloodlust, a LOT of different grating options. You want the larger of the shredding options (For the slow class, that would be the side of the grater full of the largest little shreddy holes. Not the little slicy holes, or the itty bitty nonsense holes. I hope this helped). I won't lie. By the time you're done shredding these vegetables, your arm will hurt. And not just because it's been attacked by the grater. But it will be worth it. Probably!

Once your vegetables, fingers, and dignity are good and shredded, add in your Schmaltz, Salt, Paprika, Garlic Powder, and Black Pepper, and stir it all together. You can use a spoon. If you're some kind of a pantywaist (It's an old-school dish. So you get old-school insults. This is how these things work). Or you can be a man, and squish things together with your hands.
Whose bright idea was this anyway? Right, mine. Awkward.
Slowly add in your flour during the squishery, until it begins to hold it's shape well, and generically feel kinda like a dough. If you don't know what dough feels like, pay more attention to the first part of that sentence, and less to the end of it. Form your Kishke into sausage-shaped logs. How large is up to you, but they should be relatively substantial. I usually get about 3 out of this recipe. So, since I'm assuming your goal is to imitate me in all things, shoot for 3.

Traditionally, this is the part where you'd incorporate some intestine. We're not doing that. Because it's gross. And also because my intestine guy hasn't gotten back to me. Double wrap your logs of goodness in aluminum foil, and throw them in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes. The double wrapping should help keep fat from dripping down onto your oven, burning, starting a fire, and allowing you to cash in on the sweet insurance money to start your new life in Aruba. But, if you want to (nudge nudge, say no more), you can be extra safe and stick them in a pan as well. In any event, once your 45
Kishke artfully arranged for your pleasure. Take it all in
minutes of purgatory are up, you've got Kishke! Which is awesome. You can simmer it in a stew, to add insane amount of flavor and body to it. Or you can cut it into slices and throw it back in the oven for another 30 minutes to crisp up and just eat it like that. The whole thing. On your own. I totally won't judge you (I'm already judging you).

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