Chief of Staff Cholent (Hebronite Hamim)
Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips. According to the Ten Commandments, "On the seventh day thou shalt rest," which means that no cooking can be done on the Sabbath. This tradition is the reason Israel is truly the center of the world for cholent, an overnight stew. Almost all Jewish families have brought their own unique versions — with Hungarian smoked goose breast, Brazilian black beans, Moroccan rice, Bukharan turkey giblets and raisin-stuffed cucumbers, or Polish barley and meat. A dish that has experienced a rebirth even among secular Israelis in the last few years, cholent is often served as a centerpiece main course for parties, usually blending several traditions in one exciting creation. Eons ago, needing a dish that could be kept warm for the Sabbath, Jewish cooks came up with an overnight stew, the ingredients for which varied depending on where they lived. The stew was tightly sealed, often with a paste-like dough, and cooked before the Sabbath began, then left overnight in the embers to warm until the next day. During World War II, before Israelis had proper ovens, the cholent often was simmered over the small flame of a kerosene stove, the lid covered with two heavy bricks. The word cholent comes from the French chaud, meaning "warm," and lent, meaning "slow." In Israel, it is also called hamim, Hebrew for "warm." Like outdoor grilling, preparing cholent seems to have become the Israeli man's domain. It is served on every Israeli army base on Saturday, even in small military units on their own at lookout posts throughout the country, since the army, which officially observes the dietary laws, must serve a traditional Sabbath meal. This Hebronite hamim recipe was given to me by Amnon Lipkin Shachak, a former Israeli army chief of staff. He combines the Ashkenazic basic beans and barley with Sephardic sausages and the long-cooking eggs in their shells called huevos haminadav to make an innovative Sabbath dish from Hebron, the city from which part of his family hails. According to him, the recipe changes each time he makes it, depending on what he can find in the cupboard. This version requires kishke (a traditional delicacy made of flour and fat stuffed into sausage casing, today obtainable from Jewish specialty stores) and the robust and highly aromatic eastern Mediterranean spice combination of baharat (see Tips, below).
Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips. According to the Ten Commandments, "On the seventh day thou shalt rest," which means that no cooking can be done on the Sabbath. This tradition is the reason Israel is truly the center of the world for cholent, an overnight stew. Almost all Jewish families have brought their own unique versions — with Hungarian smoked goose breast, Brazilian black beans, Moroccan rice, Bukharan turkey giblets and raisin-stuffed cucumbers, or Polish barley and meat. A dish that has experienced a rebirth even among secular Israelis in the last few years, cholent is often served as a centerpiece main course for parties, usually blending several traditions in one exciting creation. Eons ago, needing a dish that could be kept warm for the Sabbath, Jewish cooks came up with an overnight stew, the ingredients for which varied depending on where they lived. The stew was tightly sealed, often with a paste-like dough, and cooked before the Sabbath began, then left overnight in the embers to warm until the next day. During World War II, before Israelis had proper ovens, the cholent often was simmered over the small flame of a kerosene stove, the lid covered with two heavy bricks. The word cholent comes from the French chaud, meaning "warm," and lent, meaning "slow." In Israel, it is also called hamim, Hebrew for "warm." Like outdoor grilling, preparing cholent seems to have become the Israeli man's domain. It is served on every Israeli army base on Saturday, even in small military units on their own at lookout posts throughout the country, since the army, which officially observes the dietary laws, must serve a traditional Sabbath meal. This Hebronite hamim recipe was given to me by Amnon Lipkin Shachak, a former Israeli army chief of staff. He combines the Ashkenazic basic beans and barley with Sephardic sausages and the long-cooking eggs in their shells called huevos haminadav to make an innovative Sabbath dish from Hebron, the city from which part of his family hails. According to him, the recipe changes each time he makes it, depending on what he can find in the cupboard. This version requires kishke (a traditional delicacy made of flour and fat stuffed into sausage casing, today obtainable from Jewish specialty stores) and the robust and highly aromatic eastern Mediterranean spice combination of baharat (see Tips, below).
Step-by-step
- On Thursday night, soak the white or red beans and chickpeas in cold water to cover.
- On Friday morning, in a large heavy pot, sauté the onions in the vegetable oil until translucent. Then add the brown sugar and the water and carefully caramelize the onions over very low heat. Turn off the heat until the remaining ingredients are prepared.
- Drain the beans and scatter them on top of the onions.
- Cut the fat from the brisket, dice the fat, and set it aside. Rinse the rice in cold water and then drain; repeat twice more. Season the rice with 1/2 teaspoon salt and a few grinds of black pepper and dot with about 4 tablespoons of cubed beef fat. Place the rice in the center of a sheet of cheesecloth and enclose it loosely, so that the rice can expand. Tie with a thin strip of cheesecloth or twine and set aside.
- Season the frika, bulgur, or barley with 1/2 teaspoon salt and a few grinds of black pepper, dot with about 4 tablespoons of cubed beef fat, and put it in another piece of cheesecloth. Tie it up loosely.
- Add the beef bones to the onions in the pot. Set the brisket on top, then the 2 bags of grains, the kishke, pearl onions, potatoes, and eggs. Sprinkle with additional salt to taste, pepper, baharat, and soup powder. Add water to cover, cover the pot, and bring to a boil. Then transfer to a preheated 200-degree oven to cook overnight or put the pot on a blech (a heated asbestos pad which many Jewish cooks use to keep Sabbath dishes warm) over low heat and leave until ready to serve.
My Unexpected Culinary Adventure: A Chief of Staff's Cholent
As a busy fitness model, time is my most precious commodity. My schedule is packed with photoshoots, training sessions, and appearances, leaving little room for elaborate cooking. Yet, I've always had a deep appreciation for food, especially traditional dishes that tell a story. So when a friend gifted me Joan Nathan's "The Foods of Israel Today," I was immediately intrigued by the Chief of Staff Cholent, a recipe brimming with history and flavor.
The concept of a slow-cooked, overnight stew resonated deeply with me. The idea of preparing a hearty meal that practically cooks itself while I focus on other tasks perfectly fits my lifestyle. It’s the epitome of efficiency and deliciousness. The ingredients themselves are a testament to culinary heritage: the rich brisket, the humble beans and barley, the aromatic spices - each component plays a vital role in creating a symphony of flavors. This isn't just a meal; it's a journey through time, a taste of tradition, and a perfect blend of comforting simplicity and sophisticated taste.
I found myself captivated by the narrative behind the dish. The idea of a former Israeli Chief of Staff, a man accustomed to command and control, crafting this simple yet complex stew in his kitchen felt strangely comforting. It's a reminder that even the most powerful individuals appreciate the simple pleasures of life, the satisfaction of sharing a meal steeped in history and tradition. I love this contrast between the high-powered position and the very homey, unpretentious food.
The recipe itself was surprisingly straightforward, demanding patience more than intricate techniques. I loved the freedom to adapt it to my own preferences, substituting ingredients as needed, much like the Chief of Staff himself apparently did. It's a testament to the adaptability of the dish; it's a blank canvas for culinary creativity. As I meticulously followed the steps, I found myself reflecting on the history woven into each ingredient, the generations of cooks who had perfected this recipe over time. It was a meditative process, a calming escape from the frenetic pace of my professional life. It felt very grounding to be connected to a tradition that transcended time and place, to be part of a culinary lineage that stretched back centuries.
The final result was breathtaking. The aromas that wafted from the pot as it simmered were intoxicating. The tender brisket, the perfectly cooked beans, and the subtle yet distinct flavors of the baharat spice blend created a culinary experience that was both nourishing and satisfying. The dish spoke of warmth, hospitality, and a rich cultural heritage. More than just a meal, this cholent was an experience that enriched my life in unexpected ways. It's a dish I'll be making again and again, not just for its deliciousness, but for the profound connection it provides to history, culture, and the simple joys of home-cooked food.
Beyond the Recipe: A Reflection on Time and Tradition
This experience with the Chief of Staff's Cholent brought into sharp focus the importance of slowing down and appreciating the simpler things in life. In our fast-paced world, where convenience often trumps tradition, it's easy to lose sight of the rich cultural heritage embedded in our food. This dish served as a powerful reminder that true nourishment extends beyond physical sustenance; it's about the stories, the connections, and the moments of reflection that food brings. I found immense satisfaction in the process of preparing this meal – the mindful preparation, the anticipation of the delicious result, and finally, the enjoyment of sharing the final dish.
The Chief of Staff's Cholent is more than just a recipe; it's an invitation to connect with history, to embrace traditions, and to savor the simple pleasures of life. It’s a reminder that even in the midst of a busy and demanding life, there's always time to create something meaningful, something delicious, and something deeply connected to our heritage. It’s a dish that deserves a place in every kitchen, regardless of your schedule or background.
