mizducky

D'oh. That wasn't even a challenge! How about the admiration of all your fellow eGulleters and the opportunity to answer all the Americans when they ask you who he is?? Aw shucks ... I had picked up your hint and gotten as far as going "Okay, it's got to be a member of the Guess Who, but which one?" So do I win the Classic Rock Trivia Geek Consolation Prize? Yes. Almond bread.... Maybe it's because we make varieties that don't have almonds that we needed another word? I really have no idea where the word komish comes from but it's used here. ← I'd never heard the word "komish" before either, but a quick Google turned up a bunch of recipes under that name, including at least one Kosher l'Pesach one, so I guess it's known to other folks too.

I've done the omelettes and the cheese sandwiches. I've also done the pasta, but sometimes instead of annointing it with olive oil and a sprinking of parmesan, I instead give it a couple shots each of soy sauce and toasted sesame oil. I've also gotten into making what could best be described as Low-brow Erzatz Takikomi-Gohan (thanks to torakris et al, for teaching me there was a for-real name for this dish that I kinda stumbled upon by accident). I sling some rice in my little cheapo rice cooker, along with a smattering of leftovers and/or pre-nuked frozen vegetables and various seasonings as my whim dictates. Not very gourmet, but it's quick (about 20 minutes for the cooker to cycle) and reasonably healthy.

Cool! I love crispy fish skin! Is there a technique for getting the skin around a fish steak to crisp up? I tend to prefer steaks to filets, but I can't quite visualize getting even a thick steak to remain perpendicular to the pan long enough to crisp the skin, without having the steak either fall over or fall apart or both.

Ow! Sounds like something I would do! And in fact, I did do something a little like it a couple weekends ago (only over an adult-musician toy rather than a children's toy), and still have the black-and-blue marks on my right knee to prove it. So I really mean it, torakris, when I say I feel your pain. Get well soon, hear? Meanwhile, my Quest for Lamb has finally achieved its goal--courtesy of the butcher shop that yesterday promised me it would have the goods today. Cost me somthing like $6.98 for a pound. Probably won't get a chance to perpetrate moussaka until tomorrow night, but it feels good to have the ingredient-collection phase complete.

Maybe they were matzoh meal rolls! ← Did they look anything like mine? ← Wow! Yeah! The Da Vinci rolls looked almost exactly like that! Erm, I should add I had to refresh my memory of the Last Supper painting by looking at images via Google. Between the low-res tiny images, and the five centuries of shmutz that had accumulated on that painting, it's admittedly hard to tell which of the little round food objects are rolls as opposed to pieces of fruit or some such. Hmmm. Remember the "two Jews, three opinions" thing? While it's true that rabbinic Judaism as we now know it didn't officially get started until after the fall of the Second Temple, many scholars say that the roots of rabbinic Judaism and its observances, including Pesach, were already set and growing well before the Temple's final loss. In Arthur Waskow's Seasons of Our Joy, for instance, he traces the roots of Passover all the way back to spring agrarian festivals of ancient herding and farming tribes prior to their gathering as the Children of Israel; and its transformation into a festival of religious/tribal freedom in the wake of the Israelites' captivity in and escape from Egypt. He then describes the observance of Pesach in the time of the Temples as a huge influx of Jews into Jerusalem where they presented their lambs for sacrifice at the Temple--after which they roasted and dined on the lambs and on unleavened bread, in a meal that became more and more ritualized over time, such that when the ritual was eventually set down in the Mishnah the early rabbis were mainly codifying (and commentating, of course!) many already existing and evolving practices. The meal, of course, necessarily shifted to the home once there was no more temple to go to, but a ritual meal--and a week of eating unleavened bread--was happening well before that. (At least according to Waskow, and other authors I've read but whose books I don't have handy at the moment...) This whole hunk of history-of-religion is something I find incredibly fascinating--it was a major focus for me when I was in seminary, busily incorporating my religious roots into the (fortunately quite flexible) Unitarian Universalist theology/philosophy/thingum. (That last will probably only be funny to people familiar with UUism, but whatever. ) I hesitate to rock out on this sub-thread any further in Pam's blog as it would probably go way the heck off topic from Passover, let alone Pam's recording of her heroic culinary efforts. But I highly recommend Waskow's bookfor a great survey of the Jewish holidays combining historical scholarship and religious respect ... and I'll make a point of checking out the PBS series to check out its take on things.

Beef and bourbon and chocolate. In various permutations. Prepared/procured either by self or others. Repeated until it feels like my heartburn is out-hurting the heart-break. Kinda like hitting your foot with a hammer for distraction from a toothache. Not the most logical behavior, but hey, who said logic had anything to do with romance (or its aftermath)? Feel better soon, Pumpkin Lover.

Enjoying this blog! A random bit of trivia regarding kosher l'pesach--my understanding is that several foods considered off-limits by Ashkenazic authorities are traditionally allowed for Passover in many Sephardic communities (kitniot such as rice and legumes). A random bit of comparative-religion trivia: the painting "The Last Supper" is in fact meant to be Jesus and the disciples at a Seder; Da Vinci constructed that scene based directly on verses in the Gospels which describe that meal as being a Passover observance. (However, I don't think Da Vinci knew a whole lot about Pesach, because it looks like at least a few food items in the painting are puffy little bread rolls! )

The quest for ground lamb continues. I came close two different times today, but as they say, "close" only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. At least I'm getting to explore some interesting stores I had not checked out previously. Rather than burden this topic with the details of these slightly off-topic adventures, I think I'll start a whole other topic in the California forum or something. But suffice it to say here: one of the shops actually yielded up a packet of that seven-spice mixture featured in Rachel Perlow's recipe; and the other place, a for-reals butcher shop, said they'd have some freshly-ground lamb in tomorrow. So I am closing in on my prey ... Yeah, I know I can make this dish with ground beef. But where's the fun in that? Besides, by this point my Quest for Lamb has taken on the aura of a Sacred Food-Geek Mission! I shall not be denied!! I shall yet succeed in making my neighborhood safe for lovers of fresh-ground lamb everywhere!!!

As a child of Rockland County (lived in Blauvelt from age 1 to age 8, thereafter in Nyack till graduation from high school in 1975), I find this conversation fascinating. Don't have anything substantive to add regarding fine culinary destinations there, as I haven't been back except for a brief visit a couple of summers ago, but just wanted to throw in my appreciation for the nostalgia-trip. Admittedly, I was a kid with kid-tastes during my Rockland years, but at least in my recollections the county was pretty darned sleepy culture-wise in those days. It was only after I graduated and left for college that Nyack went and got "discovered" or whatever. When I was growing up there, seemed like half the stores downtown were either going out of business or already gone. Now the joint is jumping with bars and cafes and galleries and antique shops--and live music venues, even! Funny how it goes. If Nyack had been that lively while I was still living there, well ... I probably would have left anyway. But I wouldn't have been so all-fire *desperate* to do so.

Fascinating. The one and only time I ever attempted to make a terrine, it was a vegetable one, using a recipe from the Victory Garden cookbook. It looked gorgeous, but I apparently way underseasoned it, as it was extremely bland in flavor. Kinda discouraging considering the amount of labor that went into it. But y'all are tempting me to have another go at some kind of terrine sometime ... Question: head cheese counts as a kind of terrine, right? I have an unholy passion for the stuff, which I have to indulge in solo because I've yet to meet anyone else who can even abide the thought of it. I am sorely tempted to try and actually make some, one of these centuries--assuming I could find even find a whole calf's or pig's head to buy, let alone the courage to mess with it. (Needless to say, I'd also have to pick a time when Fearless Housemate was out of town for several days--bet a culinary stunt of this sort would have him running away screaming. Though that might be fun to watch ... )

I do the usual research on the Web and in travel guides, including the AAA guides. But sometimes I just do what Holly recommends, pick a likely-looking exit off the interstate, and follow my nose (so to speak) towards whatever looks promising. I have had some mediocre meals that way, true, but I've also discovered some gems. And whatever else you can say for this method, one thing it isn't is boring. (Admittedly, I am easily amused ... )

I can't comment about Philadelphia, having somehow never visited there. I do think that your assumption is reasonable that many staffs of restaurants in "urbane urban" areas are up to speed on this issue. But, well, let's just say that sometimes reality fails to conform to reasonable assumptions. Moreover, just because the staff is enlightened does not guarantee that their clientele would necessarily be likewise. And I hardly expect a restaurant staff to exert any power over the minds of their other customers, nor would I want to put them in the position of mediating between me and another customer who decided to make an issue of things--that wouldn't be fun for either the staff or for me. I guess it also depends on the "urbane urban" area in question. (I like that phrase. ) Just a couple of examples: when I lived in Seattle and had a fairly good grasp of the attitudes of the city in general and its more trendy neighborhoods (both gay-oriented and more "general"), I felt pretty confident about my assessments on what places would be totally okay with appropriately modest displays of affection, and it was a pretty broad range of places. Here in San Diego, where despite the laid-back SoCal ambiance the community culture is a bit more conservative, I'd probably be a bit more circumspect in dining places outside the identifiably gay-friendly neighborhoods (Hillcrest, and to a certain extent North Park), until multiple visits to a dining establishment allowed me to better assess their comfort-level.

I'm another singleton who mostly cooks for herself alone. (I seldom if ever cook anything for Fearless Housemate, as his eating schedule and food foibles are pretty much completely disjunct with mine). Once in awhile, I find myself cooking a potluck dish to bring to a party. Otherwise, I seem to balance between periodic big cooking projects that keep me in leftovers for a few days afterward; quick-and-fast scratch meals like omelettes; simple meals of basic pantry items like cheese, bread, pickles, etc.; and a smattering of take-out. Right now, for instance, I've got the remains of a batch of borscht, plus some cooked beans and brown rice, hanging out in the fridge; some combination of two or more of those will probably be dinner.

Are the convergence of who and what one is completely inseparable in the gay community? ← Sometimes it's nice to be able to hold hands across the table without a lot of staring from other diners. ← Seconded. For heterosexual readers who might be wondering about this: imagine you are out with your spouse for your nth-anniversary dinner. You're not (necessarily ) wanting to crassly snog your date over the appetizers, but you do want to be able to share some fond glances, maybe hold hands, maybe exchange a present, that sort of thing. Now--imagine trying to do that in a restaurant where the server and all the patrons are radiating disapproval for even your most modest sharings of affection. Sounds like a pretty lousy way to celebrate your anniversary, doesn't it? Well, that's exactly why, when I've been in a long-term relationship with another woman, we made a point of doing our celebratory dinners at establishments we knew from experience would be okay with us behaving like a couple. Yes, these places were also lovely dining experiences. And we also had lovely dining experiences in places whose gay-friendliness quotient we did not know, or even were pretty darn certain was pretty low. But when it was important to us to not have to be paranoid about behaving like a couple, we did choose venues we could be sure would not mess that up for us. It really can be crucial.

Hi Susan--I was going on the informal theory that the low availability/selection of lamb here in San Diego was a combination of relative lack of ethnic groups that are heavily into lamb, and relative lack of interest in, for lack of a better term, "foodie-ism" around here. On the face of it, those theories wouldn't explain the easy availability of ground lamb in small-town FL ... except that I have been the Publix-chain stores down there, and I gotta say they pretty much kick the booty of any of the chains here in SD. Plus ... I dunno, on my few visits to the Daytona Beach area, I got the impression that the small-town Fl matrix around that area had an overlay of retirees from the Northeast--maybe markets down there have gotten a little into catering more to the ethnic-influenced food tastes of these snowbirds? Admittedly I'm now just wildly speculating on little data here... I'm willing to let go of the botanically male/female concept, but agree with Rachel that, for whatever reason, there do seem to be two distinct "looks" to the American-style globe eggplants in the market, including the distinctly different looks of their blossom-end "navels." That said, a couple of what looked to be "male" eggplant I turned into baba ghanouj the other weekend still had an annoying number of seeds. So, once again, I'm clueless ... what's an eggplant "sex" fiend to do anymore?!? Hi Rachel--This recipe from epicurious.com using portobello mushrooms in place of the meat looks pretty promising, though if I were doing it I'd juice up the spicing a bit with some allspice/nutmeg or the blend you use in the meat-based recipe you posted to RecipeGullet (lovely-sounding and looking recipe, by the way).

Mizducky, can you buy some fresh lamb and have them grind it for you? ← See, that's the thing--*fresh* lamb of *any* sort is just not available at 99 Ranch, period--only the frozen lamb. Meanwhile, the only fresh lamb I've seen at the mainstream supermarkets for a long time now are cryovac packages of whole legs, either with or without the bone, or cryovac packages of shanks. A whole leg is simply way too much for my solo-cook needs let alone my budget, and that's presuming I could persuade the pseudo-butchers at this supermarket to grind it for me (I bet they don't even have a grinder back there anymore, and get instead get in all their meat cuts pre-fabricated from some central commissary). I've got one more concept to try: finding an independent butcher to sell me just the amount of freshly-ground-to-order lamb that I'd need. This may get interesting because I just Googled and found only three listings for independent butchers in all of San Diego. I'll check out the nearest of those sometime this week, but if they're a washout then I guess I'm back to the frozen ground lamb at the 99 Ranch.

having been in menopause for a few years now, I can tell you that the cravings still remain, regardless. I can't really tell you why though. It just is. I can also tell you it's way harder to lose the weight that those cravings accumulate! ← Yeah, I've been doing the perimenopause buildup for a couple years myself, and as my cycle gets ever more baroque and unpredictable, so do my PMS symptoms. Those months that my body decides to skip a period altogether seem to be the ones where my PMS symptoms, including the food cravings, are the strongest and longest. One would be well advised to not stand between me and any large savory meat object when I'm in such a state. Even when I do get my period, it seems to take a day or two longer before the PMS symptoms, including the cravings, shut off. But when they do, it's quite dramatic. I go to bed jonesing for greaseburgers and wake the next morning feeling only vaguely hungry, and for only vegetarian food. Isn't biology wonderful?

[sound of transplanted Northeasterner gently weeping as she watches all this marvelous fried-clam activity from over here on The Wrong Coast]

Yes, let's figure this out! I slice, salt, wait, then dab with paper towels. I also only buy what I've been told were male eggplants (no indentation at the base) bc they supposedly have fewer seeds. Anecdotal evidence, always tricky, bears out the effectiveness of these two techniques, but I'd be interested to know what people think. Just checked the new McGee, and he says that the salting reduces the absorptiveness of eggplant, but as far as reducing bitterness, that probably just reduces "our perception of the alkaloids." I dunno what that means and have to take the dog for a walk, but if someone out there can explain, that'd be swell! ← Alton Brown did a whole episode on eggplant a while back, which among other things covers choosing male over female eggplants, salting, and, to a certain extent, dealing with the alkaloids. The transcript of that episode can be found here. Brief summary: he does go along with the "male eggplants have fewer seeds" concept. He salts cut-up eggplant mainly to combat the absorptiveness issue. He doesn't ascribe bitterness-removal to the salting process, but says that since a lot of the alkaloids are concentrated in the seeds, a lot of their bitterness can be avoided by picking male eggplants, and younger smaller eggplants (the younger they are, the less time they've had to make seeds). He also deals in passing with removing alkaloids during a segment on baba ghanouj--he lets his eggplant pulp sit in a colander for awhile after roasting so that the alkaloid-heavy juices can drain off. This kinda suggests to me that the drainage of juices that happens with salted weighted uncooked eggplant slices would also get rid of some alkaloids, but it doesn't look like AB explores that idea. Meanwhile, I've got an email out to my old school buddy asking about his mom's moussaka recipe. It might be awhile, though, before I hear back from him. Meanwhile meanwhile, I really want to make this thang with lamb if at all possible, so now I gotta research where the heck to get ground lamb in my corner of the universe. Think I recall seeing that 99 Ranch had some in one of their frozen food cases--kind of odd, considering their huge and very active fresh-meat counter, but on reflection I guess lamb is not that heavily used in far-eastern cuisines. But at least they had some, which is more than I can say for the butcher-less big chain supermarkets.

You've just reminded me of one of my great culinary discoveries here in San Diego: hot carrots. I'd never heard of these chile-laced pickled carrots until I moved down here--probably because this is the first town I've lived in with anything even vaguely approaching authentic Mexican cuisine. (Note I said "even vaguely"--I'm aware there's a whole world of Mexican cuisine beyond the profusion of taco-and-burrito joints down here, but it still beats the tar out of the chain-Mexican stuff I experienced in other places I've lived. But I digress...) Anyway, these carrots: when done right, they are these thick golden slices of vinegary, jalapeno-y goodness, and the 24-hour taqueria nearest my house does do them right. If my tummy could take the heat, I would eat a quart of 'em a day, easy. Maybe this discussion will motivate me to pick up some gorgeous carrots the next time I'm down at the food co-op and take a stab at making a milder version for myself.

When my mom died in 1987, my dad was all set to give all my mom's belongings, including her cookware, away to Goodwill! Fortunately, my kid sister was still living relatively close by, and swooped in to rescue a whole bunch of stuff. So she's the one who has all of Mom's silverplate service, her good china, the old Mixmaster with the bakelite bits, her old copper-bottomed Revereware pots, etc. etc. etc. I suppose if I asked her to share she'd be totally okay with that, but I've been living far enough away from her, and often in cramped enough living arrangements, that it would have been awkward to ship and store the stuff. So I'm mainly glad it at least has a home somewhere. What I do have of my mother's: an old cookbook, copyright 1949, entitled "Jewish Cookery." It's a battered old hardcover, the cheap cover all faded and cheap paper all yellowed, the interior devoid of pictures of any sort. The recipes are a rather odd mix of traditional Eastern-European Jewish, a smattering of Israeli, and some strange middle-American incursions (one example: there's a molded "salad" of beets in lime jello that would be right at home on the "Gallery of Regrettable Food" website). But it was my mom's go-to book for things like latkes and chopped liver--I have memories of her cooking from this book, and of it residing on her bookshelf next to the Betty Crocker and Better Homes and Gardens cookbooks--and I treasure it as if it were a trove of Cordon Bleu cuisine.

Ah! This is lovely! One of my best friends from college days was, IIRC, a first-generation American of Macedonian heritage--his family lived in the St. Louis area, where I was given to understand there's a sizeable Macedonian emigre community. He made moussaka for me once--his version, learned from his mother, did have the bechamel topping, plus potatoes in addition to eggplant. I guess there must be different styles of moussaka in different regions of Macedonia... He also taught me that it's pronounced with the accent on the third syllable. Up to that point I was saying it with the accent on the second syllable, which is how I heard it pronounced by diner waitresses when I was growing up in the suburbs of New York. Maybe I'll get ambitious and drop my old college friend an email to get the specifics of his family recipe...

For your continued roasted-beet-consuming pleasure, I have posted my recipe for a borscht using roasted beets as well as their greens to RecipeGullet.

Beet and beet-green borscht Serves 6 as Soupor 4 as Main Dish. I always wondered why I never saw any recipe for borscht that used the beet greens as well as the roots. After all, traditional borscht usually has cabbage in it, so why not use the greens that come with the beets? Yet even the most hippy-dippy vegetarian cookbooks in my collection didn't go there. So I evolved this basic recipe. It's vegetarian mainly because I'm trying to eat more meatless meals and trying to get more vegetables into my diet, but you can certainly make an omnivore version with meat and stock if you'd like. 1 bunch young beets (preferably <1.5" diameter) with greens intact 3 T olive oil 1 large onion, peeled and chopped 1 large carrot, chopped 2 stalks celery, with leaves, chopped 1 cloves garlic, peeled and minced 1/2 oz dried mushrooms 4 c vegetable broth or water 1 bay leaf 2 T vinegar (cider or red wine) 6 whole peppercorns 1/2 tsp dill seed salt and pepper to taste 1. Preheat the oven to 300 deg. F. Cut the greens from the beets, leaving a minimum of 1" of stems on the beetroots. Wash the greens carefully to remove all grit, and reserve. Gently wash the beets with a scrubbie to remove dirt, but don't scrub so hard as to break the beets' skin. Place the whole beets in an oven-proof dish, drizzle with about a tablespoon of olive oil, and massage oil into the beets. Cover and bake in oven for about an hour or until the beets are just barely tender. 2. While the beets are baking, get all the rest of your mise-en-place together. In addition to chopping the onions, carrot, celery, and garlic ... 3. Put the mushrooms in to soak in hot water to cover (the hottest water from your sink is fine) for a half hour. When they are done soaking, squeeze out as much liquid as you can, reserving that and the soaking liquid. Filter the soaking liquid through a coffee filter if it looks at all gritty. Chop the mushrooms. 4. Separate the leaves of the beet greens from their stems. Slice the leaves roughly into 3/4-inch strips. Chop the stems. 5. When the beets are tender enough that you can slide the tip of a sharp knife into one with only a moderate amount of resistance, remove from the oven. When they're just cool enough to handle, remove the skins by wrapping each beet in a paper towel and massaging till the skins slip off. (NOTE: the paper towel offers little protection against the beet juice. If you really don't want your hands stained pink, wear rubber gloves.) Remove and discard the root-tips as well as the stem-ends; halve the beets lengthwise and slice thinly. 6. Add the remaining olive oil to a large soup pot on medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, celery, carrots, and beet stems, plus a couple generous pinches of salt, and sweat over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, for ten to fifteen minutes or until even the carrots are starting to get soft. Add the mushrooms and their soaking liquid, the beets, the vinegar, dill seed, bay leaf, peppercorns, and salt and pepper to taste. Add the broth or water. Bring just barely up to a boil; stir in the beet greens. 7. Cover and turn heat to low. Simmer for an hour or until all the vegetables are soft. Adjust seasonings, including the vinegar. This soup definitely profits from being made a day ahead and kept overnight in the refrigerator. Can be served hot or cold; can be garnished with sour cream or yogurt if you don't need it to be full-on vegan. Keywords: Healthy Choices, Easy, Vegetables, Jewish, Soup, Vegetarian ( RG1200 )

Beet and beet-green borscht Serves 6 as Soupor 4 as Main Dish. I always wondered why I never saw any recipe for borscht that used the beet greens as well as the roots. After all, traditional borscht usually has cabbage in it, so why not use the greens that come with the beets? Yet even the most hippy-dippy vegetarian cookbooks in my collection didn't go there. So I evolved this basic recipe. It's vegetarian mainly because I'm trying to eat more meatless meals and trying to get more vegetables into my diet, but you can certainly make an omnivore version with meat and stock if you'd like. 1 bunch young beets (preferably <1.5" diameter) with greens intact 3 T olive oil 1 large onion, peeled and chopped 1 large carrot, chopped 2 stalks celery, with leaves, chopped 1 cloves garlic, peeled and minced 1/2 oz dried mushrooms 4 c vegetable broth or water 1 bay leaf 2 T vinegar (cider or red wine) 6 whole peppercorns 1/2 tsp dill seed salt and pepper to taste 1. Preheat the oven to 300 deg. F. Cut the greens from the beets, leaving a minimum of 1" of stems on the beetroots. Wash the greens carefully to remove all grit, and reserve. Gently wash the beets with a scrubbie to remove dirt, but don't scrub so hard as to break the beets' skin. Place the whole beets in an oven-proof dish, drizzle with about a tablespoon of olive oil, and massage oil into the beets. Cover and bake in oven for about an hour or until the beets are just barely tender. 2. While the beets are baking, get all the rest of your mise-en-place together. In addition to chopping the onions, carrot, celery, and garlic ... 3. Put the mushrooms in to soak in hot water to cover (the hottest water from your sink is fine) for a half hour. When they are done soaking, squeeze out as much liquid as you can, reserving that and the soaking liquid. Filter the soaking liquid through a coffee filter if it looks at all gritty. Chop the mushrooms. 4. Separate the leaves of the beet greens from their stems. Slice the leaves roughly into 3/4-inch strips. Chop the stems. 5. When the beets are tender enough that you can slide the tip of a sharp knife into one with only a moderate amount of resistance, remove from the oven. When they're just cool enough to handle, remove the skins by wrapping each beet in a paper towel and massaging till the skins slip off. (NOTE: the paper towel offers little protection against the beet juice. If you really don't want your hands stained pink, wear rubber gloves.) Remove and discard the root-tips as well as the stem-ends; halve the beets lengthwise and slice thinly. 6. Add the remaining olive oil to a large soup pot on medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, celery, carrots, and beet stems, plus a couple generous pinches of salt, and sweat over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, for ten to fifteen minutes or until even the carrots are starting to get soft. Add the mushrooms and their soaking liquid, the beets, the vinegar, dill seed, bay leaf, peppercorns, and salt and pepper to taste. Add the broth or water. Bring just barely up to a boil; stir in the beet greens. 7. Cover and turn heat to low. Simmer for an hour or until all the vegetables are soft. Adjust seasonings, including the vinegar. This soup definitely profits from being made a day ahead and kept overnight in the refrigerator. Can be served hot or cold; can be garnished with sour cream or yogurt if you don't need it to be full-on vegan. Keywords: Healthy Choices, Easy, Vegetables, Jewish, Soup, Vegetarian ( RG1200 )