Answer: It’s all about the oil. You may think that candles and their light are the quintessential symbols of this holiday, but the origin story of this Jewish holiday centers on an oil-fueled lamp with multiple branches, not a candle holder. And the number of lights on the Temple menorah vs. the number on a Hannukah one don’t match. You may want to read my post about the menorah vs. the Hanukkah lampstand to find out more on this subject.
It’s not surprising that the oil in the Hanukkah lamp led to the use of oil in other ways to celebrate the holiday. While latkes are a very popular Hanukkah food, in reality it’s fried foods in general that carry out one of the themes of this holiday. (There are several varieties of doughnuts that are also popular during Hanukkah, the most common being jelly-filled doughnuts called sufganiyot. As we know, doughnuts—real doughnuts, not those baked things—require a whole lotta oil.) Let me give you a brief overview of the historical roots of this holiday and then tell you more than you ever wanted to know about the origins of the humble latke.
The tradition of an eight-day festival centered around the lighting of the nine-branched menorah dates back to 165 B.C., when Judea was allowed to rededicate the Temple under the rule of the Maccabees, a family of warrior priests. This is a very, very complicated bit of Jewish history, so suffice it to say here that Judea had been conquered by Alexander the Great and then continued to suffer under the rule of the Seleucids, rulers descended from one of Alexander’s generals. The Maccabees led a revolt and were successful in establishing their own rule. The books of I and II Maccabees in the Jewish Apocrypha and the history of Josephus describe the eight-day celebrations that took place at the time; there is nothing in those sources about any kind of miraculous provision of oil. It wasn’t until 600 years later that the Talmud (a set of commentaries on the Torah, or Jewish Bible) told the story that when it was time to light the altar lamp there was only one small flask of oil that had been properly dedicated, but the lamp on the altar could not be allowed to go out and (I’m guessing here) they didn’t want to wait for a new supply of oil before going ahead with the lighting of the lamp. Miraculously, though, this oil lasted through the eight days needed for a new supply of oil to be prepared. Hanukkah is therefore also called the “Festival of Lights.” Here’s the passage from the Talmud:
When the Greeks entered the Temple, they polluted all the oils in the Temple, and when the Hasmonean Dynasty [the Maccabees] overcame and defeated them, they checked and they found but one cruse of oil that was set in place with the seal of the High Priest [of the Temple], but there was within [only enough] to light [the Menorah for] a single day. A miracle occurred, and they lit from it for eight days, (The Talmud–Mosechet Shabbat 21b).
Trying to track down exactly why or how the oil was to be dedicated is now impossible. If you look up the instructions for the building of the Tabernacle (the structure that accompanied the Israelites through their wilderness journey) or of the Temple in Jerusalem, you find that the lamp stand inside the tent was to be kept burning all night and that it was to be fueled with “pure” or “clear” oil, almost certainly olive oil. But I can’t for the life of me find anything about dedicating that oil. It’s just . . . oil. There was a long, long time between the original story of the Maccabees re-taking the Temple and the tale in the Talmud, with plenty of time for the accretion of details that didn’t appear in that earlier version.
Okay. On to the latkes. Let me tell you that I’m determined to throw a latke party some day, following the guidelines in the video below by Melissa Clark, one of my favorite cooking authors. However, for the actual recipe, I’ll be following the clear, step-by-step-with-photos instructions by a woman named Tori Avey, also linked to below, although I have to say that her latkes seem too thick to me. (You need a subscription to the New York Times in order to access Melissa’s recipe.) The word “latke” is Yiddish and means “small pancake.” Latkes don’t have to be made from potatoes; indeed, there were early ones made from ricotta cheese that originated in Italy. Making them from potatoes came about because 1) potatoes are cheap and filling, and 2) Jewish dietary laws forbid the mixing of meat and dairy, and since chicken fat (schmaltz) was (and still is) a popular cooking fat in some communities, there was a need for something other than cheese for the pancakes. But you can make them with whatever you like as long as they’re something vaguely pancake-y and are fried in oil. I have a version I like that’s made with zucchini, and I once knew a charming gentleman who made sweet-potato latkes for Thanksgiving one year when Hanukkah fell close to that holiday. (Hanukkah, along with other Jewish holidays, follows the traditional Jewish calendar and not the modern one, so it shifts every year.) As with all fried, crispy foods, latkes are best right out of the grease. Melissa talks about the fact that handing someone a hot latke straight from the pan is a declaration of love, and I agree. There’s an Italian saying that I can’t find saying something like “the sacrifice of the cook” in connection with fried things. Someone has to stand over that pan!
Okay. First, a video from the peerless, peerless a cappella group the Maccabeats, telling the story of Hanukkah:
Then you have to watch them tell you how to make latkes:
Now you can watch Melissa’s video, read the recipe, and go thou and do likewise. (You get a bonus recipe from Melissa, one for baked French toast.)
And the detailed, step-by-step recipe:
©Debi Simons
