When you think of the foods of your childhood often the first images that come to mind are things that a parent or grandparent used to make for you. I personally envision a piping hot bowl of matzo ball soup, prepped in a kitchen smelling of chicken and eggs. As a vegetarian, that was never a version of the soup I would have eaten. But for years I have heard about my great-grandma’s Friday afternoon soup cooking, and something inside leads me to believe it is why I cherish making vegetarian matzo ball soup to this day.
“Food and love are just synonyms for each other:” This couldn’t be clearer than in Jeremy Salamon’s cookbook Second Generation: Hungarian and Jewish Classics Reimagined for the Modern Table. Although Salamon writes that it isn’t his grandmas’ cookbook, the love from his two grandmothers is depicted throughout the entire book. If there is one thing you take away from Second Generation let it be that the best food is the food that connects you to nostalgia, family and love.
But don’t let the title of the cookbook confuse you. This cookbook is less about Hungarian or Jewish cuisine and more about the cooking styles and flavors of Salamon’s beloved grandmas adapted to a modern kitchen. In fact, the book is not about Hungarian Jewish cuisine, but rather the italicized and on the cover. Some recipes are Hungarian, some are Jewish, but very few are a combination of the two. If you are looking for Hungarian Jewish recipes this may not be the right cookbook for you.
The Jewish aspect of the cookbook can feel a bit misleading at times. The cookbook is by no means kosher. While I understand kashrut to be an important component of Jewish food, since it is the dietary restrictions that helped form what Jews have eaten for centuries, one could argue that food can be Jewish without necessarily being kosher. However, the cookbook does not indicate on the cover or anywhere obvious that not all recipes are kosher. Someone interested in Jewish cooking, who keeps kosher, could pick up the book excitedly and only become disappointed once flipping through the pages and finding non-kosher dishes such as Chicken Liver Mousse which mixes milk (butter and cream cheese) and meat.
While Salamon does his best to share the stories behind recipes at the top of each page, the font color is light and difficult to see and sometimes Salamon falls short on connecting the stories to the topic of the cookbook. He includes a recipe for Fennel, Orange & Chocolate Mandel Bread, an Italian Jewish dessert, claiming that his Nana loved the Mandel Bread recipe made by another cookbook author. Sure, it is a Jewish recipe, but it seems like a stretch to include in a collection about his grandmas, neither of which were Italian.
One distinction from other cookbooks that I love about Second Generation is the wine pairing tips with each recipe. Salamon explains that no Hungarian meal is complete without wine. It is engrained in the culture of the country, and likewise is engrained in the cookbook. This element allows readers to get a true sense of Hungarian meals. For example, for Smoked Trout Butter, Salamon writes: “This dish could work nicely with a Tokaji Furmint or Harslevelu or with a similarly fuller-bodied, mineral-driven white.”
Ultimately, this cookbook is predominantly about upholding the cuisine, and through it, our connection to our relatives. Salamon guides us through his grandmas’ food traditions lovingly with not just recipes, but also colorful photography. In turn, he offers tips and advice to modernize traditional recipes, advising readers to “think of me as your own grandma in the kitchen with you.”
