Rosh Hashanah Traditions: How The Holiday Table Evolves

An overhead image of a table set with the variety of dishes commonly served as part of the Rosh Hashanah

For me, Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, is all about traditions — creating them and recalling them. And for my family, 85% of our traditions happen around the dinner table.

So yes, of course you’ve got to listen to someone blow the Shofar 100 times. AND, yes, you’ve got to throw bread, or nowadays pebbles or seaweed, into a flowing body of water to symbolize the things you wish you hadn’t done this year (a ceremony known as tashlich). But mostly, you spend a lot of time eating, especially sweet things like dipping apples in honey, because the major underlying theme for this celebration is to ensure that you enter the new year with sweetness and hope.

(Eat your apples and honey now as things only get sweeter as we head into Fall, eating dozens of 100 Grand bars as I’m passing out candy to trick-or-treaters or overdoing it with Thanksgiving yams that have been sufficiently marshmallowed).

Here are some of my family’s traditions — and some new ones that are evolving in L.A. as modern chefs take on ancient customs.

Mom’s traditions

My mom was born in Newark, but raised in Pico-Robertson. Her parents, Selma and Vic, moved to the neighborhood less for the synagogues and more for the delis — and the ritzy proximity to Beverly Hills.

Three older, light skinned people, two women and a man sitting and smiling at a dining room a table

My mom’s fondest memories of Rosh Hashanah were at the kid’s table in the early 70s, over the hill in Canoga Park at her Nana and Auntie Jan’s house.

She remembers walking into the smell of Nana’s homemade potato knishes — “like the ones you’d get at Label’s Table — but Nana’s were better.” Once seated, there’d always be mixed nuts on the table — so you could nibble your day’s worth of calories before the meal even appeared.

They’d always have sliced apples dipped into a ramekin of honey, tzimmis(carrots, sweet potatoes, and prunes), noodle kugel and brisket, and my mom remembers her older family members vying for the pupik, the gizzards in the chicken fricassee.

A pineapple-looking sculpture that's yellow and covered with green olives stuffed with red pimento. Surrounding the pineapple are other various appetizers

Grandma Selma was “world famous” for making sculptures out of chopped liver. In those days, most Ashkenazi liver dishes came from chicken, but Selma’s recipe called for calves liver, and “everyone would go crazy for it,” according to my mom.

Selma molded her chopped liver into the shape of a pineapple, adding cross hatches and a crown of real fruit fronds, adding pimento green olives to make it look like a real pineapple.

Meanwhile, my mom’s Aunt Jackie was the Queen of the Jello Mold — she’d put fruit cocktails inside of wiggly Jello. My mom remembers telling her sister, “Jello is the only food you can’t spit out if you don’t like.”

Interweaving traditions

Chef Rebecca King is a private chef who owns and operates a culinary concierge business and is the purveyor of a “a very unkosher deli” known as The Bad Jew.

King trained in the kitchen at deli-inspired fine-dining establishment Birdie Gs and learned to use the smoker at Texas-style Flatpoint Barbecue. Over the past seven years at pop-ups around LA, The Bad Jew has developed her treyf take on pastrami with her signature Porkstrami.

A woman with light skin stands in a kitchen wearing all black, including a chef apron.  She has brown hair and is smiling at another woman with light skin and blonde hair who face is not shown. The two of them are standing behind a counter with food on it.

Her family told her, “Rebecca, you’re gonna get us in trouble” with the branding for The Bad Jew, but she says it really resonates with people.

As a private chef, King has cooked High Holiday meals for a wide range of family traditions.

“I have clients who keep kosher, who are secular. Some want a traditional Ashkenazi meal, others want more adventure, maybe a Mediterranean or Asian twist,” she said.

Her own family background is Ashkenazi — she grew up in Shaker Heights in Cleveland, a predominantly Jewish neighborhood — and her most potent Rosh Hashanah memories are of her grandma’s matzo ball soup and all of the kids wildly running around her grandparent’s penthouse.

But she says she also enjoys cooking in the Sephardic tradition — “I like flavor, really spicy foods, the herbaceousness — just intense flavors that I love.”

“I’ve done it all… 15 million Rosh Hashanah classics,” she smiles, quoting from Aleeza Ben Shalom in the Netflix series Jewish Matchmaking: “There’s 15 million Jews in the world, and there’s about 15 million ways to be Jewish.”

“There’s no way to do it wrong.”

A roasted lamb shank on top of light brown parchment paper on a grey table top. The lamb shank is partially shredded and is falling off the bone. It's covered with red pomegranate seeds and green herbs.

This Rosh Hashanah, King is excited to serve roasted chicken, tzimmis carrots, and her signature oak-smoked lamb peppered with baharat seasoning topped with coriander leaves, with pomegranate molasses and arils, those juicy pomegranate seeds.

King uses pomegranates because they’re another symbolic fruit for Rosh Hashanah, representing fertility and abundance. (I remember learning that there are supposed to be 613 arils in each fruit, and that’s how many commandments there are in the Torah. Though it’s not an exact science.)

Growing a plant-based tradition

Megan Tucker is the Culinary Institute of America-trained chef behind pop-up Mort & Bettys, a Philly-style plant-based Jewish deli. “Everything is made from scratch — and there’s no fake meat here, it’s all seasonal produce,” Tucker said.

The deli is named after Tucker’s grandparents, Mort and Betty. They were both born to New York City Lithuanian-Jewish families in 1912 — and met at a Borscht Belt summer resort, “like Dirty Dancing but without all the drama,” Tucker said as she laughed.

Mort was an engineer and owned a piano factory that was converted to a wartime airplane factory during the war. Betty had a degree in accounting and worked for the city — and even ran for local city council.

A vertical image of a white plate with a similar white bowl on top containing three matzo balls with a slice of carrot. The matzo balls have been seasoned with a green herb. Below the plate is a teal placemat with a partially shown utensil.

Tucker has infused that old-school Jewish tradition into a modern, vegan approach to Rosh Hashanah dishes. This year’s menu is matzo ball soup, a mushroom paté plate, and her popular brisket made from seared oyster and shiitake mushrooms.

It’s cooked in kosher red wine with tomatoes, onions, nutritional yeast, bay leaves, thyme, garlic, and what Tucker calls “real baby carrots, not the cut kind — carrots are so important to soaking up the flavors in the brisket.”

The sweeter offerings will include symbolically round challah (representing the continuity of the seasons), a chocolate pumpkin babka, and an apple honey cake inspired partly by Amish farm stands in central Pennsylvania.

An overhead image of the Jewish pastry known as babka. There are five circular pastries.

Pre-orders have already closed for Rosh Hashanah specials, but Tucker will be at the Atwater Farmer’s Market on Sept. 17 with whatever hasn’t sold out.

Traditions for the cooking-avoidant, time-pressed wage slave

I know some of us don’t have family in town — which might make it difficult to access traditional holiday feasts. But it is possible to assemble a quick and easy Rosh Hashanah meal.

(Shoutout to my editor, Gab Chabrán, who knows I’m the King Of The Family Meal Deal.)

Listen, I regularly serve dinner to 4-12 at my dining room table, and I’m always on the lookout for great value take-out offers. So, if you just wanted me to drop an instant Traditional Ashkenazi Rosh Hashanah dinner, I suggest you order a Gelson’s High Holiday Meal package. There are many other places you can order this kind of meal, like smaller delis, but what’s convenient (if you live near a Gelson’s) is that since they are doing supermarket-sized volumes, your food will be ready when you need it.

A group of light skin people pose for a photograph together. There are two men and two women. All of them are wearing glasses. The older man in back has white hair. The man closer towards the front has a beard and facial hair and is wearing a floral printed button up shirt. The woman in the back is wearing a red dress. The woman in the front has brown hair and is smiling.

Nothing beats home-cooked — but sometimes you may have a cadre of tiny cousins running around your home demanding food, and you just need something to give them.

The reason you’re feeding people is to facilitate them to go on with their evenings without thinking about hunger. Well-fed people can laugh and be silly with their families, like bootleg retellings of The Wise Men of Chelm (a Yiddish folk tale) or impromptu vaudeville performances from the kids’ table or dishing out gossip from someone your grandma knew in the old country — all of these happy activities require that we not be starving.

So, for me, my point is: WHAT YOU EAT AT THE ROSH HASHANAH MEAL DOESN’T REALLY MATTER — as long as you can keep your guests happy and well-fed so they can postulate on a sweet new year.

Mix and matching old and new traditions

My mom has finally revealed her menu for our family’s meal. Here’s what we can expect from this year’s celebration:

Milwaukee Brisket from a 1970s Jewish cookbook called Oodles Of Noodles (Green Edition). It calls for a brisket/flour/water/Lipton’s Onion Soup mix, and I guess the Milwaukee-ness comes from the recipe calling for a cup of beer. (This year, my mom will be using a cup of glass bottle Mexican Coke instead, as a Jewish cooking Facebook group just recommended it.)

She will also incorporate silan, a date syrup, into the Pomegranate Silan Chicken she found on Kosher.com — with a jar of the silan that her friend Dorit brought back from Israel.

A boy with light brown skin and brown hair sits at a table with a plate of yellow couscous with vegetables on top. In one hand he's holding a cut piece of an apple with a bitemark.

The pomegranates in my mom and dad’s backyard have not quite been harvested, so she’ll have to get them from Smart & Final. My dad will definitely be into this chicken — but I bet he’d really like that pomegranate lamb from Chef King.

My mom will also be making a couscous with seven vegetables — zucchini, carrots, chickpeas, (and four more for sure!) — because seven is a lucky number, like the seven days it took to create the world. She found this recipe in The Nosher section of My Jewish Learning.com. I hope that it tastes like that epic family-sized tagine we had at Moun of Tunis on Sunset earlier this year.


This story originally appeared at LAist.

Sous-vide Brisket, Matzah Pizza And Rosewater Marzipan — A Guide To Delicious Passover Food (Yes, Really) In LA

A table filled with bowls and plates, showing different foods associated with the holiday — matzah, kugel, matzo ball soup and pickles

A Passover meal kit from Wise Sons

(Courtesy of Wise Sons )

The festival of Passover — Pesach in Hebrew — starts tonight, and will last until next Thursday, April 13.

Ask a Jewish person how they observe the holiday and you’ll get various answers, especially here in Los Angeles. Some will simply attend a seder, the evening meal where the biblical story of the Israelites escaping bondage in Egypt is traditionally retold.

Others strictly observe the dietary practices of the holiday, eating unleavened matzah instead of bread, avoiding any other leavened food such as pasta or cookies and cleaning their homes from top to toe.

And some people sort of do both. Or neither.

I realized how important the tradition was to me in April 2020, when we held our seder over Zoom, the first major celebration that COVID lockdowns prevented us from having in person.

I just remember feeling like this monumental meal I was sharing with my wife and our then 9-month-old twins — and my parents and sister over the internet — just was so sad.

It felt like we were living the hardships part of the Passover story. At one point, I excused myself, walked into the bathroom, and started sobbing, thinking, “Is this the world my children are going to be living in?”

Those were tough times. But we made it through. And this year, I’ll celebrate our freedom from all sorts of plagues, in person on vacation with my family for spring break.

When it comes to festivals, delicious Passover food is somewhat limited. Matzahs are a really hard food to pump up — it’s as if the Swedes were dead set on getting everyone to just eat Wasa crackers in all these unique ways for a week. But in a place as diverse as L.A, there are many tasty offerings out there.

Rosewater and cardamom: Iranian-Jewish flavors

Tannaz Sassooni is a food writer living in Los Angeles. (Check out what she wrote about hummus for LAist.) She’s currently collecting recipes and stories from Iranian Jewish grandmothers for a cookbook she’s working on.

She says the first night of Passover is always at her mom’s house with tons of family. Instead of dipping food in salt water as many Ashkenazis of Eastern European descent do (to simulate the tears of those enslaved), her family dips it in vinegar.

“And our bitter herb is usually a bitter lettuce,” she says. (Ashkenazi tradition uses horseradish.)

Two photos side by side: On the left, a woman with medium skin tone, shoulder length brown curly hair, glasses, and a dark gray sweater, stands inside a home near the window. The photo is taken from outside looking in. There are white orchids on the left of the frame. On the right, the exterior of a home. The walls are white and the shape is triangular. The foreground is full of sage and lavender.

“Our charoset is the best charoset in the world,” Sassooni says of the fruit-and-nut mixture on the seder plate to remind us of the mortar used in the building of the pyramids.

“We use my grandfather’s recipe. He faxed it to all of his children from Israel many decades ago, and that’s still what we go by. It has a million fruits and spices and nuts and wine and vinegar and fruit juices — it even has bananas, which I think is very, very strange, but that’s part of the recipe.”

The mixture is then blended in a hand-cranked meat grinder. “It’s a whole endeavor, so you have a nice texture. I’ll take a jar home and eat it throughout the week,” Sasooni says.

A close up of hands brushing crumbs and dirt from the wooden floor onto a plastic dust pan.

Passover often falls within a few weeks of the vernal equinox — Nowruz, the Persian New Year. For Iranian Jews, there’s often some overlap. The Nowruz spring cleaning tradition of khāne-takānī parallels the Jewish practice of removing chametz (bread and leavened food products) before Passover. And, of course, there are those snacks that work perfectly for both holidays.

While her mom prepares badam sookhteh, toasted almonds coated in cardamom (“it means burnt almonds, but it’s almonds that are wrapped in dark caramel”), Sassooni regularly makes toot, the Persian word for mulberry.

But this candy does not actually contain mulberries; it just resembles them. It’s a marzipan made from almond flour, tinted with saffron, and perfumed with rosewater. Sassooni says that when toot is served with tea to friends and family, it ensures a sweet new year and is an excellent compliment for the Passover celebration.

On top of a white marble counter there are Nowruz items such as a basket of eggs, a bowl of apples, a plate with marzipan balls, a plate of coins, dates, and a grass plant.

Brisket and chicken soup — the traditional Ashkenazi meal

For Evan Bloom of Wise Sons Deli, his “go-to Jewish holiday” has always been Passover. His first days cooking for large groups were at friends’ Passover seders at UC Berkeley.

“Passover is all about filling your house with people. You are not supposed to turn people away. Seders are always big and always fun,” says Bloom.

The Passover story has a special connection to the Wise Sons origin story. They got their name from the Haggadah, the guidebook for the seder. Bloom says their name refers to the story of four sons who each ask questions about the seder: The Simple Son, The Son Who Does Not Know How To Ask, The Wicked Son, and The Wise Son.

Wise Sons filled a niche in the Bay Area when they started their operation in 2011. There wasn’t a traditional Jewish deli in San Francisco and a population yearned for their grandma’s brisket, with a farm-to-table approach.

Now they have seven restaurants — four in San Francisco, two in Oakland, and one in Culver City. Bloom grew up in Southern California, so having a location in L.A. is a homecoming.

A table containing various dishes of foods for Passover.

During Passover, they offer a popular seder dinner package.

Bloom says it’s a traditional Ashkenazi meal, apple and walnut charoset, chopped liver, matzo ball soup, roasted brisket or chicken.

“The brisket is pre-sliced and sous-vide — you finish it in the oven,” Bloom says. “During the pandemic, people got really into finishing things at home. It’s easier on the production end so we leaned into it.”

WHERE TO EAT DURING PASSOVER

    • Easy order Seder meal and plate kits (sold separately): Wise Sons 9552 Washington Blvd,
      Culver City, CA 90232
    • Matzoh ball soup, garlic and dill tots, and Hobak latkes: Yangban Society, 712 S Santa Fe Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90021
    • Matzah-crust pizzas with your choice of toppings: Fresh Brothers (various locations)
    • Khoresh: A Persian stew often served with lentils for the second night of Passover-Kabob By Faraj 8680 W Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90035

The potato kugel is from a former employee’s nana, and the peas and carrots in lemon butter on the menu are an ode to Bloom’s own safta (Hebrew for grandmother) — but these peas don’t come from a can. There’s also a chocolate matzo with bittersweet caramel.

Bloom says another popular order is the Seder Plate Kit — which comes with a lamb shank bone, horseradish root, parsley, greens, egg, charoset, sea salt, and an orange.

The orange is a recent progressive addition to the seder. Jewish feminist scholar Susannah Heschel held a seder in the 1980s and chose to include an orange on the seder plate — “because it suggests the fruitfulness for all Jews when lesbians and gay men are contributing and active members of Jewish life.”

Bloom urges people to order through the website in advance because“we Jews often do things at the last minute.” But the roast brisket plate will be on special at the restaurant for the first few nights for any stragglers.

Gourmet chocolate matzah: Compartés

Compartés, an LA-based Oprah-endorsed gourmet chocolatier, offers desserts for Passover. CEO Jonathan Grahm says that they’ve been in business for 75 years. “People remember buying their chocolates as kids — and now give them to their own grandkids.”

A matzah is covered with dark chocolate, on top of a brown swirled background

Grahm says, “growing up, my grandma kept kosher — so our family seder tradition is to use parve dark chocolate matzahs.” It means the dark chocolate does not have dairy, so it doesn’t run the risk of mixing milk and meat, especially during a meat-centric Passover meal.

Comfort food with Korean and Jewish roots

I’m Jewish. My wife is Korean-Irish-Catholic, but she’s from Encino — which I guess also makes her culturally Jewish.

While my children have a halmoni, who taught my toddlers how to say “mashita” when eating something delicious, my Irish Catholic father-in-law remembers the pickles brining on the fire escapes as he delivered groceries to South Boston bubbies. And that was the first thing he was reminded of when he saw onggi kimchi ceramic pots when he visited Seoul.

A few times a month, our family gets breakfast on Sunday mornings and dines at a Jewish deli, Brent’s, with my in-laws.

It’s a quintessentially L.A. blend — one which we share with Chefs Katianna and John Hong, who run Yangban Society, a Korean American restaurant in the Arts District.

They incorporate their fine dining background with “a multidimensional, autobiographical experience that showcases their respective backgrounds and upbringings,” according to the website. It’s comfort food with Korean and Jewish roots.

The initial concept at Yangban was a deli. Like the ones that Kat grew up with in upstate New York.

Korean American deli reminds her of going to a Unitarian church as a kid, where going to a deli was an incentive. Like the Greek deli or the Italian deli, the places that serve the food of families and communities.

Kat said they were actually removing the deli on the day that I called, to focus on plated table service.

A black and white image of a woman of Asian descent wearing an apron. She stands over a counter, looking down, holding a metal spoon over a plate of food. Behind her is a stainless steel kitchen with a row of pots hanging from the ceiling, and two dark silhouettes of people are on her left side.

Chef Katianna was born in South Korea and was adopted at 3 months old, when she was brought to the United States and raised half-Jewish in a “mixed celebratory” household in upstate New York. She has lots of fond memories of cooking with her grandma.

“Since my family lives all over,” Chef Katianna says, “We can usually celebrate only once a year, so it’s like one big celebration — Christmas and Hanukkah and Passover — with matzo balls and menorahs.”

Meanwhile, John grew up in the Jewish suburbs of Chicago: “Koreans getting bagels, it all felt natural.”

Yangban offers several Passover-adjacent items on its menu, like the matzo ball soup. Chef Katianna Hong uses her grandmother’s matzo ball recipe and floats it on a creamy foam broth of emulsified chicken bones.

Also on the menu is hobak latkes made with produce from Girl & Dug (a Korean American-owned farm) containing squashini, Yukon potato, diced onions, white kimchee, egg, matzah meal, and a little Korean pancake (pajeon) mix . For snacking purposes, you can nibble on the garlic and dill tots — fried tots tossed in house-made roasted garlic butter, chopped dill, and scallions, served with whipped crème fraiche, dill oil, and applesauce for dipping.

Chef Katianna says her matzah mandu — Korean dumplings — will most likely be added to the menu, so stay tuned.

A colored image of a potato pancake that's mostly covered bits of egg, herbs and orange fish eggs

Hobak latkes, made with squashini, Yukon potato, diced onions, white kimchee, egg, matzah meal and Korean pancake (pajeon) mix.

(John Troxell/©John Troxell

/

Courtesy of Yangban Society )

A white ceramic bowl with a red trim full of soup sits against a dark brick background. The bowl contains a yellow ball of dough with noodles, shreaded chicken along with vegetables and herbs

Matzoh ball soup – inspired by Chef Katianna’s grandma’s recipe, made with matzoh ball recipe and then add Korean mirepoix (hobak squash, leeks, and Yukon potato) confit in schmaltz with added sujebi dumplings and finished with fresh chopped dill and scallions.

(Courtesy of Yangban Society )

Matzah pizza: Fresh Brothers


Everyone who’s committed to eating matzah for a week has devised creative ways to make that bland cracker more palatable.

Whether that’s spreading butter on it, or more ambitious projects — matzah brei, anyone? — most of us have stumbled on the matzah pizza from Fresh Brothers. (Sounds easy, but it’s not. When I make it at home, it’s often like a too-crunchy Boboli that always falls apart.)

The pizza chain was founded in 2008 and has 24 locations in Southern California, including Terminal 2 of LAX and the Rose Bowl.

Fresh Brothers have been serving matzah pizza for the eight days of Passover for the past 10 years. “At our sixth store, the Beverly Hills location, my brother told me he noticed a drop in sales for one week in April,” says co-founder Scott Goldberg.

They realized the drop in this predominantly Jewish neighborhood was because many folks had given up leavened bread for Passover.

A close up shot of four matzah pizza with different toppings against a cardboard background

“So we said, ‘why not try matzah pizza as a gimmick, and that gimmick was a hit,” says Goldberg. “It turned into an annual tradition that we call Matzah Madness, ’cause it’s always around March Madness.”

Now every Fresh Brothers location has it for the eight days of Passover. Goldberg says they’ll typically sell 7,000 – 9,000 matzah pizzas over that period.

They’ve been actively contacting synagogues to inform them about this promotion while clarifying that none of what they’re serving is actually kosher for Pesach. “Some folks are not personally kosher, but they still keep Passover,” says Goldberg.

The architecture of a matzah pie is crucial if you don’t want it to crack in half or get too soggy. Goldberg says the key is to take one piece of matzah and put a little bit of cheese on it, then add a second sheet of matzah on top — the way a taquero slides in the second tortilla for structural support — which also kind of makes for a stuffed crust matzah.

Goldberg says that their signature margherita pizza is popular, and they ensure that pans and knives don’t allow meat and milk to touch. (Not quite Glatt kosher standards, but the intention is there.)

Meanwhile, Goldberg’s personal favorite matzah pizza is Da Works, pronounced in his native Chicago-ese, with decidedly un-kosher sausage, pepperoni, mushroom, green peppers and red onion.

The joys of the diaspora

The Exodus from Egypt was the start of the Jewish diaspora — and the diaspora is where I feel most at home.

This is where I have the opportunity to connect with our cousins from so many other tribes, especially somewhere like L.A. There’s this sense that we are all related through our own experiences, and we all have the same interests — that is, taking the lessons we’ve learned from the past, the security of familial support, and if we have children, hoping that we can make their lives better.

And this Passover — in contrast to the hardships of 2020 — my family and I are lounging on the beach in Cabo. And since the drinks are included at the all-inclusive resort, we’re planning on having at least the four ceremonial cups of wine — and holding a fifth one out for Elijah.


This story originally appeared at LAist.

Rising Egg Prices Are For The Birds. Maybe It’s Time To Raise Backyard Chickens

A group of white, black, mustard yellow, brown, and spotted chickens eat seeds off the ground.


Soaring egg prices. Completely empty shelves at Costco. Rationing your use of eggs in cooking. The deadliest outbreak of bird flu on record wiped out more than 50 million poultry birds and made us all rethink our devil-may-care reliance on a continuous supply of eggs.

It will take at least several months for egg prices to stabilize. So is this moment you finally go hyper-local, and invest in a small flock of chickens for your backyard?

Um, maybe not. Thinking about doing something only when you need to is kind of the opposite of how raising a flock of chickens works. You need to think about these living creatures more often than when they have something you can use. You have to make sure they have enough food, enough water, and aren’t overheating or pecking at the smallest member of the flock.

So is it worth that to save on egg-sessive stress? If you’re still interested — and excited at the prospect of getting the freshest and tastiest possible eggs — read on.

I wanted to find out what really goes into rearing chickens from people who are doing it. So I spoke to Offer Grinwald, who’s been raising chickens in his backyard in the West San Fernando Valley for about four years. He’s had ups and downs, but currently, his flock is healthy and producing seven to eight eggs daily.

I also discussed all things chicken with Natalie McCall, on the other side of L.A. County, who has been raising chickens in the “kinda farm-ish” hills of West Covina, after she and her boyfriend moved there from downtown during the pandemic.

A white hand holds white and pale pink eggs.

The house that they bought happened to have a chicken coop. She says “instead of really thinking it through,” her boyfriend bought five chickens that “came in a grocery box.” They quickly learned how to keep them alive. McCall says she hasn’t bought eggs since 2021.

I asked them both for some pointers for newbies to the chicken game.

Persuading your family

“The first thing that you need to do when you’re considering having chickens is convincing the people that you live with that it’s a good idea,” Grinwald said.

It took him almost “three to four years of being really annoying, non-stop talking about chickens,” he added. Eventually, his wife and daughters came around.

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A hand sticks out at the top of frame and sprinkles a yellow looking powder towards a brown chicken standing in the chicken coop.

Cheaper than buying eggs?

For McCall, “it’s not cost effective, because every bag of grain is $15.” Her eight chickens eat three-quarters of a bag a week. But she says, the benefits outweigh the cost. “These are the greatest eggs I’ve ever had.”

In the foreground there is a wood framed gate with metal mesh, inside there's a chicken coop where multiple, colorful chickens roam. In the back of the coop a white man can be seen feeding some of the chickens.

Having the space

Grinwald says that if you’re raising regular-sized chickens in a coop, you’re going to need between three to five square feet of coop space per bird, as long as they have space to roost at night and they’re able to go outside during the day.

Another option is to have them walking around in your backyard where they’ll eat plants and forage for food, but Grinwald says “there’s gonna be a lot of poop all over the ground if you let them be free range.”

Buying a coop

The chickens need somewhere safe to stay at night. So you’re going to need a coop. You want them to be protected from local predators like hawks, rodents, raccoons, skunks, opossums and coyotes.

You can buy fancy designer coops for a few thousands dollars or you can build one yourself, but Grinwald says any coop will do as long as there are bars inside the enclosure for chickens to sleep on. This is a roost, so it basically emulates tree branches for them to hold on to.

LEARN MORE

The chickens also need a place to lay their eggs — a nest box. They don’t automatically know where they are supposed to nest, so you have to show them. It can take a few weeks but they’ll figure it out.

McCall says she’s had some tragedy — opossums killed a pair of her Silkie chickens. “After that incident, we went and got an even smaller closure,” she says. They still let them out in the chicken run, but they have it fenced in and make sure to close them in at sunset. They haven’t had critter problems since.

Four chickens in a wooden chicken coop full of wood chips and seeds. One black and white chicken stands on top of a wooden stick that crosses the wooden coop.

Choose a breed of chicken

Different types of breeds have different characteristics.

Rhode Island Red, for example, produce a good amount of eggs but are said to be super aggressive. Plymouth Rocks, on the other hand, produce a decent amount of eggs and are known for being docile.

McCall says her hens, from different breeds, have never laid a white egg. Henrietta is an Ameraucana, whose eggs are speckled green and blue.

Wanda is a Rhode Island Red, who lays brown eggs.

And Monica — well, McCall is not exactly sure what breed Monica is, but she is very docile, and lays pinkish white eggs.

Two pinkish eggs in a box full of wood chips.

Decide how many chickens

You’re gonna need more than one chicken in your flock. They’re social animals and they need their best friends around. Grinwald started with seven, but says a minimum number of chickens is two.

You also have to keep in mind that there will be a “pecking order” — where the older and bigger hens push to eat first, and they’ll start pecking at the littler ones until all they fall in line. “Not all chickens get along,” says Grinwald. “If it’s a small enough chick another chicken may injure it or kill it.”

McCall says they understood the pecking order was real when one of their birds was ostracized by the others. They named her “chicken little” and penned her off separately to protect her. But soon they realized that “she” was in fact a male rooster, who’d been hard to differentiate at the beginning because he didn’t have plumage. Eventually his feathers grew in “great color patterns,” she says.

A white man with brown hair wearing a blue, white, and yellow striped t-shrit, stands next to a wooden chicken coop holding a black and white spotted chicken.

Chicks vs. Rooster

Grinwald says “in theory you could buy a recently hatched chick from a feed store for six bucks, but you’re going to have to wait several months for it to grow while you take special care of it.” Then you have to introduce it to the flock, which could bring its own problems. “But that $6 bird could deliver you a lot of eggs over time.”

Some people also choose to raise a rooster to fertilize eggs — but according to Grinwald “having a rooster is its own disaster. It’s a little loud and they get cocky, and in some communities they’re illegal.”

Places like Beverly Hills and Cerritos have outright backyard chicken bans. In Santa Monica you can have up to 13 chickens, including roosters, but a permit is required, while in the city of Lakewood, you can have five chickens but no roosters.

In the City of Los Angeles the number of chickens (and roosters) is determined based on your zone. Check to see the restrictions in your area.

Weatherproofing your flock

Chickens can live in cold conditions — in some places they’re raised in the snow.

The more common problem we face here in L.A. is overheating. The West Valley can get to 110 degrees in the summer, “so you need to go in a few times a day, water down the area, and spray the bird,” says Grinwald.

Dealing with chicken poop

There are a few approaches to dealing with chicken waste. Grinwald practices what chicken farmers call “deep litter.” According to The Chicken Chick blog, it’s “a method of chicken waste management that calls for droppings and bedding material to compost inside the chicken coop, instead of being cleaned out and replaced regularly”

Grinwald puts pine shavings and straw on the floor of the coop. “It makes it comfortable, and the dry shavings dry out the poop and neutralizes the ammonia, so it doesn’t really smell, even with 14 chickens,” he says.

The flock will also forage from what they find beneath the litter. Flies lay their eggs in the shavings which grow into larva, and are quickly eaten by the birds.

Grinwald’s family also composts all their kitchen scraps, throwing them straight into the litter. Grinwald says the “right ratio for a good situation is one-third compost, one third grains and one-third greens.”

A dirt floor full of wood chips, bagels, green beans, and various other compostable foods.

This process leads to healthy, happy chickens, says Grinwald. “Their food and poop creates a microbiome community, and that improves their gut health. If you’re eating the eggs, it helps your gut health too.”

Each year, Grinwald harvests a few inches from the bottom of their coop and throws it into his garden. “The chickens eat the compost, and their poop becomes fertilizer, and it helps everything — it’s a circle of life,” he says.

Count your eggs

Yes, that’s right, before they hatch. Grinwald says his flock will lay about seven to nine eggs a day in the summer, although production goes down in the winter while they’re rebuilding their protein.

That cycle will slow as the bird ages. “If a chicken’s lifespan is five years,” Grinwald says, “at eight months they’re going to start producing a ton of eggs, maybe five times a week per chicken — but as they get older, maybe they’re going to produce one egg a week.”

A spiral metal egg holder full of white and pale pink eggs.

Storing fresh eggs

Eggs laid fresh from a hen should be treated differently to factory farmed eggs.

“We never stick eggs in the fridge,” says McCall. “We keep eggs on the counter for two weeks at a time.”

Grinwald says factory farmed eggs need to be refrigerated because the natural protective ‘bloom’ coating has been washed off before it gets to the store. This is because factory farming can lead to unsanitary conditions, so federal law requires that the gunk is removed — along with the bloom.

“If you imagine in the wild — the egg is supposed to last at least three weeks as the hen sits on it, waiting for chicks to hatch,” Grinwald says.


This story orginally appeared at LAist.

We Share Our Tasty Holiday Traditions From Around The World

The fun and nostalgia of holiday traditions
(Dan Carino
/
LAist )

The LAist staff come from many backgrounds, as do many Angelenos. When we asked our colleagues what particular food they prepare (or buy) to celebrate the holiday season, the dish that makes them moisty-eyed when they think about it, they responded with dishes from the Philippines to Britain to Guatemala.

So we put it all together, below. We hope it will inspire you to reflect on your own gastronomic holiday traditions when you’re gathering with friends and family to celebrate this year.


Panettone Estilo Chileno

Monica Bushman, LAist Studios producer

Two red boxes with white lettering and the image of a pastry sit on a white tablecloth with holy design printed onto its surface. In front of the boxes is a plate containing two slices of the panettone.

Monica’s family celebrates the holidays with a panettone, a fruitcake first produced in Italy. It’s become a staple because her mother, Maritza, is from Chile, and it reminds her mom of panettone’s Chilean Christmastime cousin, Pan de Pascua.

(I was surprised to learn Pan de Pascua does not just mean Easter; Monica tells me that in Chile it also refers to Christmas. Santa Claus, for example, is called El Viejo Pascuero.)

Monica says it’s “kind of a fluffy round loaf, like an egg bread or a brioche — but it traditionally has candied orange peels, and there are ones with chocolate or pistachio.”

For Monica’s mom, those traditional fruit ones “smell most like what she remembers growing up.”

In Orange County, Monica has bought panettone from the Cortina’s Italian market in Anaheim, but her mom’s favorite place to find them is at the Costco in Fullerton. They buy the Madi brand, an Italian bakery that uses a 50-year-old sourdough starter in the 70-hour process of making the holiday confection.

A hand holds a glass bottle with a pale yellow label with red lettering with a detail drawing of field. The cap of the bottle is also red

Monica’s family eats panettone around the Christmas season especially during tea time, where it pairs well with a traditional drink Cola de Mono, monkey’s tail. Which, she says is “a kind of an eggnog or White Russian with milk, coffee, cinnamon, cloves and aguardiente.”

This year Monica splurged on her mom, ordering a panettone From Roy, a Northern California baker who studied under Pierre Hermé, Ferran Adria, and Thomas Keller. And most importantly for Monica’s mom — it’s Oprah’s favorite panettone.

Dutch Baby

Gab Chabrán, LAist Associate Editor, food and culture

Gab tells me that a Dutch Baby is “a big pancake you make in the oven; they have a great look, perfect for Instagram.” This buzzy fluffy pastry has become a part of the Chabráns’ holiday celebration in recent years.

The Dutch in the name is probably less Holland and more a derivation of Deutsch, meaning German, not too dissimilar from a Pfannkuchen. The Dutch Baby name was trademarked in 1942 by Manca’s Cafe, a popular Seattle restaurant.

A pair of fair-skinned hands holds a mesh strainer while adding powder to an oversized pancake.

But for the Chabráns it has more of a SoCal connection. The Original Pancake House breakfast chain, an Oregon original, still has a few branches here from Whittier to Orange to Encinitas.
Their signature Dutch Baby dish takes twenty minutes to cook so
Gab says it’s the first decision you need to make when you sit down to order.

Katie, Gab’s wife, thought it’d be better if they just started making it themselves, and it has turned into an annual tradition for their family. Each year they alternate between sweet and savory dutch babies. This year it’s sweet, using powdered sugar with some lemon, to make sure it sticks. Another advantage of making it at home — since there’s always a few blueberries around, there’s no surcharge to add berries.

A man wearing a plaid shirt and glasses holds a pumpkin next to a woman with long brown hair, holding a little girl with brown hair.

Gab and his wife Katie and their daughter Luisa

(Gab Chabrán

/

LAist )


Tamales Guatemaltecos

Jill Replogle, Senior Reporter, Orange County

A cooked tamale sits on a banana leaf placed on a blue plate on table

Jill has Arizona roots but spent more than eight years in Guatemala, where she met her husband, Erwin, who’s originally from the high altitude pine tree cloudforests of Cobán.

Back in the U.S., their family enjoys Guatemalan tamales during the holidays. She and her husband made “close to 75 tamales from right after the World Cup finale until 10 p.m.”

When she can’t find hoja de maxán, a large Central American Calathea leaf, she uses banana leaves to wrap her tamales. In Guatemala, maiz masa-based tamales are the most common, but Jill and Erwin usually make paches — which have a mashed potato base, as well as a rice-based masa typical of eastern Guatemala.

For the paches, Erwin makes a sauce with toasted sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds, chiles, and tomatoes, which is then scooped onto either chicken, pork, or a vegetarian friendly mushroom/kale melange.

A family with a sunset in the background; a man with a hat, a woman with sunglasses on her head, a young boy and an older girl. All are smiling.

For tamales de arroz guatemaltecos, you make rice on the stove and keep adding water, butter and oil — it turns to a rice porridge — which is then blended into a sticky base where meat and vegetables can be added. The meat and veggies are raw, so they are cooked by the steamer.

Tamales are a year-round food in Guatemala, but during the holidays they often have extra ingredients. Jill’s family adds olives, some peanuts, bell peppers, and capers to make them more festive. These festive tamales are typically eaten on the 24th of December, before presents are opened at midnight, and again on New Year’s Eve.

And those 75 tamales that are now cooling her fridge will be eaten at home and given away to friends and family, because during this time of year they’re best to eat, says Jill, “just whenever you can. We literally eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”


Bibingka

Kristine Malicse, Social Media Producer 

Three dessert breads sit on a white plate with a green and blue design on a brown table top

Bibingka is the holiday dessert that most feels like home for Kristine, a sweet soft and spongy rice cake baked in a terracotta bowl wrapped with a banana leaf. Christmas in the Philippines is huge.

While Americans might start getting decorations up after Thanksgiving, Kristine says “people start getting their decorations out in September and have them up through December. They call these the ‘Brrrr’ months.”

A older women waring a lepord print jacket stands next to a women in red sweater with long hair. The two women are both Asian.

Bibingka is traditionally eaten throughout the holiday season, but especially after night church services. When she was a kid in Quezon City Kristine would eat the cake around midnight on Christmas Eve, but since she moved to L.A., her family eats it as part of the Christmas meal around 4ish on the 25th. Some people save it for the end of the meal, but Kristine says “I have a sweet tooth so I definitely eat some before the meal.”

This year she’ll be spending the holidays with her boyfriend and his family. They aren’t Filipino so she was thinking about searching the San Gabriel Valley for a great bibingka to share with them as they’ve never tried it — and maybe create a new tradition along the way.


Deviled Eggs (classic ’50s style)

Erin Mercer, Director of HR

Erin knows that there are fancier deviled eggs out there. She’s had the ones with savory truffle-y notes and wasabi accents. She loves them too — but for her family’s longstanding holiday meal, it has to be a traditional deviled egg.

A group of deviled eggs are arranged in a circle on a wooden plate on a table. In the middle of the plate is a decorative metal rabbit

By that, she means yolks pulled from egg whites, seasoned with mayonnaise, a dash of yellow mustard, some salt, paprika and a dollop of sweet relish, then piped back into the egg white and topped with a little more paprika.

Her family has been in Los Angeles for at least three generations. She says she’s lucky to still have some relatives in their 90s, who filled up on these protein-dense delicacies during the Great Depression.

The signature 1950s suburban party dish even has its own platter in Erin’s family, which she remembers as a child. Since deviled eggs can be a meal unto themselves, they’re often the first thing served during the holidays. She calls them a “pre-appetizer, when you get the party started early” for a happy hour-style snack time which Erin’s family calls “Happy Talk.”

A family of five stand outside. The mother and father stand next to each in the center, with two boys on each side and a young girl in the middle.

When it comes to hard-boiling the eggs, Erin has some useful tips (I’ve been trying Martha Stewart’s 12-minutes-then-ice-bath-method but have been having mixed results.)

“I have learned the best way is in the pressure cooker to hard boil eggs for four or five minutes,” she says. Then “let the steam go and the peels will fall right off. As they cool you can cut them in half and they remain intact.”


British Mince Pie

Suzanne Levy, LAist Senior Editor

A small pastry sits on a white plate with a floral design next to a ceramic container filled with white cream.

Suzanne immediately tells me that she’s British (as if I didn’t already know from the accent), which explains why her holiday food choice is mince pies, a popular sweet hand pie served throughout the Commonwealth.

She tells me “it’s a dish first written about in the 14th century, as a way to preserve meat by adding raisins and cloves and cinnamon and other spices in a pie. (In British English “minced” meat means what we would call ground meat.)

These days the the dish doesn’t contain chopped meat — “the meat got less and less, and the sugar got more and more, which is a very British thing.” Even though there is not chunks of meat, traditionally it is made with suet, an animal fat, although this can substituted with other fats or a specially-made vegetable suet if needed.

A woman with red hair and glasses stands outside of the Getty museum at dusk. She has one arm up on a railing and is wearing a maroon colored KPCC hoodie.

When it comes out properly, it should, according to Suzanne, be “basically pastry on the outside — no soggy bottom — crumbly shortbread pastry, filling on the inside, a light dusting of icing sugar, what Americans call confectioners sugar, and you should have cream added on top.”

It’s generally eaten at tea-time, with a cup of tea, in the afternoon. Over the holidays, they’re everywhere in the UK, but will disappear in January.

“They’re like the Pumpkin Spice Latte of Britain,” she says. “They’re only available for a limited time.”


This story originally appeared at LAist.

LAist Visits: The Corner Of Whitsett And Burbank, For Bengali Fish Head And Lentil Curry, Exceptionally Fluffy Pitas, And Pittsburgh-Style Pizzas

Diversity in Los Angeles expresses itself in a variety of ways. Our aim with this coverage is to focus on communities through the food they make and sell, spending time in that ubiquitous yet often overlooked L.A. institution — strip malls — to get to know our neighbors better.

It’s about two hours and forty-five minutes before sundown on a Friday, and the beginning of Shabbat, when Orthodox Jews stop working, shopping, and traveling for 24 hours.

I am Jewish but secular, so I don’t always think about navigating the logistics of the Sabbath — but I’m thinking about it right now as I try to enter the extraordinarily crowded Cambridge Farms supermarket parking lot at the corner of Burbank and Whitsett in Greater North Hollywood.

Bask in glorious Valley sun light at the shopping plaza located at the intersection of Whitsett and Burbank
(Brian Feinzimer
/
LAist )

Cambridge Farms

The store closes at 4:30 pm on Fridays, and there’s a pre-Shabbat rush, so I only have a few minutes to get inside to grab a bag of those exceptionally fluffy pitas and still delicious day-old half-off bourekas that I promised my wife.

Cambridge Farms attracts shoppers to its large selection of kosher goods.
(Brain Feinzimer
/
LAist )

People in line speak English, Hebrew, Spanish, Farsi, and Yiddish. Everyone is in a hurry.

I notice six varieties of frozen potato knishes, rabbinically approved Oreos from Argentina, and a soy paper seaweed alternative for making a batch of crustacean-free sushi, next to a pile of yarmulkes.

The Cambridge Farm store began stocking kosher foods for the growing orthodox population who were drawn to the area by synagogues, kosher restaurants, and the appeal of an eruv.

(An eruv is an unbroken boundary that lets observant Jews carry things in public on Shabbat. There has been one in effect in this part of the Valley since 1983, bounded by the 101, 405, 170, and 118 freeways.)

North Hollywood-Valley Glen-Valley Village is probably one of the most diverse Jewish neighborhoods in the country, with distinct orthodox communities. Em Habanim Sephardic Congregation is the heart of Little Jewish Morocco. There are shuls that trace their lineage back to Lithuania (and some to New Jersey). On my parents’ block, there are observant Israelis and Orthodox Jews from El Salvador.

I get the pitas and the bourekas — and get out.

Spice Plus specializes in halal meat and fish.
(Brian Feinzimer
/
LAist )

Spice Plus

I head next to a small, humble-looking store covered in window decals for produce, lotto ads, and EBT. Spice Plus is a Bangladeshi halal meat and fish market that has been a South Asian grocery store and eatery since the early 2000s.

Muhit Imtiaz introduces himself and shows me around. He arrived in Los Angeles earlier this year from Dhaka, the Bangladeshi capital. He had been helping his uncle, the previous owner, around the shop for a few months before it sold to the current owner, his other uncle.

He says they’re one of the few Bangladeshi places in the Valley. In addition to South Asian staples, they specialize in selling freshly butchered halal meat, frozen fish from the Bay of Bengal, homemade yogurts, pickles, and Gulab Jamun.

Their chef is also an expert in Indian cuisine, but she’s been back home in Bangladesh, so when she returns later this month their restaurant will offer chicken tikka masala, garlic naan, and chicken and vegetable samosas in addition to their signature dishes. Though they mainly cater to a Bangla and Indian clientele, Imtiaz says, “we like to share our culture and food with everyone.”

Muhit Imtiaz works helping his uncle at Spice Plus
(Brian Feinzimer
/
LAist)

He offers to fix me a plate — white rice with curried beef, and a fish head and lentil curry, known as muri ghonto, a jewel of Bangla cuisine. I’m very satisfied with this unexpected meal.

Muhit is an MBA student and when he’s not studying, he comes to the market to help his uncle with the family business. He tells me how first arriving in L.A. totally reminded him of Grand Theft Auto.

He says back home in Bangladesh, he used to interview local food establishments himself as an intern on a local radio station show called “Foodies.”

Spice Plus mainly serves the area's Indian and Bangladeshi communities.
(Brian Feinzimer
/
LAist )

Gorilla Pies

The first thing I notice when I walk into Gorilla Pies, a pizza joint a few doors down, was the Scooby Doo Mystery Machine storage tin hanging on the wall. I also used to have one and would use it to store cassette tapes in my 1998 Saturn Wagon that I used to cruise around the Valley.

There’s a story for everything on the wall, says Chef Ben Osher. This is a photograph of the Chinese restaurant his family ate at every weekend. That’s a picture of his mom as a kid with a pizza on her head.

There’s stuff all over the walls because Osher wanted the aesthetic of Gorilla Pies to look like his childhood home. Baseball pennants, tchotchkes, photographs, collages, drawings, dioramas, a pack of Garbage Pail Kids cards on top of a copy of The Noma Guide to Fermentation — an assemblage of family lore and childhood nostalgia.

Chef Ben Osher preps the pizza delivery boxes of his signature Pittsburgh-style pies, which some say are among the best in Los Angeles.
(Brian Feinzimer
/
LAist )

After more than a decade in other people’s kitchens, Osher wanted a place of his own. Gorilla Pies is a personal expression — his culinary expertise mashed up with the comfort foods of his youth.

An ex-Nobu chef who has run Michelin-starred kitchens, he started slinging gonzo pizzas out of his apartment during the pandemic and built a following. He opened a brick-and-mortar store and got named one of L.A. Times food critic Bill Addison’s favorite new pizza joints.

Personal items adorn the walls of Gorilla Pies
(Josh Heller
/
LAist )

After his years of cooking for executives, celebrities, and oligarchs in fine dining settings, there’s something refreshing in how Osher talks about making what he calls “utilitarian food.”

Osher has the chops to make nearly any cuisine — but he tells me that he likes working within a set of rules. He says “circular dough becomes my guardrail,” and that within the constraints of a pizza, he can improvise.

That kind of tasty experimentation gives you Char Siu and pineapple (“The Big Kahuna”), Popcorn Buffalo Chicken (“The Great White Buffalo”) or just reimagining a Reuben sandwich as a pizza (“The Rabbi”).

A lot of care goes into his pies. The dough proofs for 24 hours, the water is filtered through a state-of-the-art reverse osmosis system to ensure consistent PH levels, and he exclusively uses California-grown organic Bianco DiNapoli tomatoes.

Osher is secular Jewish like me, and chose this strip mall because it reminded him of home — Squirrel Hill, a Jewish neighborhood in Pittsburgh, where Hypebeasts and Chasids co-exist, reminiscent of L.A.’s own Fairfax Avenue.

A slice of the Abloh (Off-White Pie) paired with a side of crispy wings.
(Brian Feinzimer
/
LAist)

Outside of Gorilla Pies is a sign that says “Osher Not Kosher” — a tongue-in-cheek reminder to his orthodox neighbors that they probably won’t want to eat at his place, but he is still a part of this community. Relations are generally copacetic — he does get annoyed when people jiggle his locked doors to see if he’s open — but he gets genuinely offended when religious people ask him “why do you have a mezuzah?” He doesn’t elaborate on why that’s so offensive, but I get it — he has a mezuzah because he is proud to be Jewish — and someone who might be more observant doesn’t have the authority to question your Jewishness.

Being unabashedly proud of who you are, what you stand for, and where you come from is on full display across this plaza, on this Friday afternoon, on the northeast corner of Whitsett and Burbank Blvd.


This story was originally published by LAist.

Carnal Sanctorum

Victoria Reynolds’ exhibit “Carnal Sanctorum” curated by Jeffrey Vallance is now on view at the Creativity Crisis Center. The CCC is a contemporary art museum that Joshua Heller and I started in the San Fernando Valley. If you’re familiar with Follow Your Heart, the vegan restaurant, the CCC is only a couple blocks away. Please send me a message, email, or post a comment if you would like to visit.

Creativity Crisis Center

Whoa! me and Daniel Rolnik opened a contemporary art museum above a crystal shop in historic canoga park. we already have a show up now with artist jeffrey vallance, and have a few more sfv-centric exhibits coming in next few months. excited to collaborate so let us know if you have an idea. also expect zines, music, events, vernissages, etc. follow along at Creativity Crisis Center on sherman way near owensmouth in the beautiful san fernando valley.