Latkes, in case you don’t know, are potato pancakes, fried in oil. The holiday
celebrates the Maccabees (the Hebrew word for “hammer”) victory over the
Greeks who wanted the Jews to reject their one G-d and worship pagan gods. When
the Jews reclaimed the Temple, they found only enough uncontaminated oil to
light the menorah for one night. Instead, the oil lasted for eight nights, a
miracle. On each of the eight nights of Hanukkah, we light candles to
commemorate this miracle. We also cook in oil to remember the special oil in the
lamp. Some families make donuts. We make latkes.
Everyone’s family has a different recipe. Now I’m seeing recipes for latkes with
jalapeno peppers! My mother-in-law, may she rest in peace, would not approve.
Herewith, I share with you two of my mother-in-law’s recipes for latkes.
(Serves small army, but remember you want leftovers!)
- 5 pound bag of white potatoes
- 2 large sweet onions
- 1 large container of egg substitute
- Black pepper
- Olive oil for cooking (lots—don’t skimp or the latkes will stick!)
- Sour cream
Using food processor or hand grater, grate onions and set aside in large bowl.
(You will cry.) Drain onions and pat with paper towels. They make a lot of water!
Peel potatoes and place in large bowl or pot of salted water to prevent them
from turning colors.
Cut potatoes into chunks and grate in food processor or by hand. (Oy! That’s a
lot of work. Sure you can’t borrow a food processor from someone?)
Mix onions, potatoes, and egg substitute until all potatoes and onions are
covered well with egg. You probably won’t need the entire container. Throw in
black pepper to your taste.
Heat olive oil in frying pan. You want it hot, not smoking, but hot.
Place large spoons full of latke mix in pan and turn when golden brown (you will
see it on turn color on the edges).
Serve latkes hot with a generous dollop of sour cream and/or applesauce.
I hope you enjoy the recipe. More importantly, I hope you enjoy your time with
your families and the wonderful memories you make with them during whatever
holiday you celebrate.
Happy healthy holidays to all!
When a wild mustang is shot in Montana, renowned horse whisperer and
telepath, Emma Horserider, is called in to calm the herd and find out what
happened. Once on scene she is almost killed by a bullet-spewing drone, and
calls her black ops brother for back-up.
Emma's help roars into her life covered in tattoos and riding a Harley. Remote
viewer Bronco Winchester takes the assignment because he is ordered to, but he
wonders what type of assistance, his boss's sister needs. That is until he sees
Emma, a valiant Warrior Woman proud of her Crow heritage.
Posing as a married couple, Emma and Bronco go undercover to infiltrate and stop
a hate group. Both are anxious enough without the now growing attachment they
feel for one another. When the lives of many are on the line, they are not sure
if they will live or die—let alone have a chance at love.
Romance Western | Romance Paranormal
[The Wild Rose Press, On Sale: October 13, 2017,
e-Book, ISBN: 2940158562303 / eISBN: 9781509217236]
Bronco now stood squinting in the late afternoon sun, knocking at a door with no
bell, and waiting for a response. Dogs barked and a window curtain twitched.
Good. Someone was home. He adjusted his pack, leaned his head back, closed his
eyes, and said, “Any time now.” As the words slid out of his mouth, he heard the
unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped.
He raised his hands. “Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”
Turning slowly to face his fate, his jaw fell open, and his heart rate kicked up
a notch from being on thewrong end of a shotgun or from the weapon holder’s
looks, he wasn’t sure. A raven haired Amazon in a tank top, jeans, and metal
tipped cowboy boots held the Mossberg 500 in a perfect military stance. Long
strands of hair blew across her face in the hot breeze. A large purple bruise
bloomed on her left cheek. She squinted her dark brown eyes and gave him a
laser-beam once over from his dusty black boots to his sweat soaked do-rag.
“Who are you, and what do you want?”
If he hadn’t been so intent on not getting killed, he would have spent more time
staring at those full, luscious, kissable lips and thinking about how she would
taste. As it was, he guessed he had less than a minute to respond before getting
blasted into the next county.
Who let the jinni out of the bottle?
Sharon Buchbinder has been writing fiction since middle
school and has the rejection slips to prove it. An RN, she provided health care
delivery, became a researcher, association executive, and obtained a PhD in
Public Health. When not teaching or writing, she can be found fishing, walking
her dogs, or breaking bread and laughing with family and friends in Baltimore,
MD and Punta Gorda, FL.
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