Tags
Arran Jewish Cultural Association, bagels, baking, challah, cooking, driving in Italy, expat, how to braid challah, how to make bagels, humor, Italy, Jewish New Year, moving to Italy, online baking class, Rosh Hashanah, round challah, SCOJEC, Scottish Council of Jewish Communities, travel
This blog post has two three five a whole mess of points followed by an invitation. First and foremost is this Cautionary Warning:
WARNING: If your roommate brings home a cute graduate student because he didn’t have anywhere else to go for Thanksgiving dinner—esp if he’s tall with curly dark hair and blue eyes—and you feed him turkey and homemade apple pie, you might never get rid of him. Just saying…
Did I listen? Of course not. 40+ years later, the curly dark hair is a fond memory, but those eyes are still very blue, and still persuading it’s the academic gypsy life for me. We’ve lived in six states and in five different countries. So I have nobody but myself to blame when he said he’d been offered a job in Italy for the upcoming year.
Me: “Pandemic!”
Him: “Italy is doing lots better than the UK. Right now, anyway.”
Me: “Death!”
Him: “Gelato!”
Me: “I’ll start packing.”
We’ve been in Italy for a little over a week. I’ve eaten gelato. We’ve driven on the roads. I’ve thrown up gelato.
[Digression #1: Actually, today we deliberately stepped into that circle of hell Dante never mentioned that is Italian bureaucracy. The Hub needs an Italian bank account to get paid. To get that, we need permission to remain. To get that, we need a local phone number. To get a local phone SIM, we need the codice fiscale (taxpayer ID). To get the codice fiscale, we need (wait for it) permission to remain.
US: “What about that visa we each forked over £300 for?”
ITALY: “Oh, that. It was just to get you into the country. Now you have to spend so so much more to stay here. Not to mention all the visits to various Italian officials where you will wait in Italian lines. As one does.”
At the end of a day of line-waiting, number-taking, and general government bureaucracy hell-experiencing, we asked when we could expect the certification. Turns out it takes so long most people leave before they ever get it. Instead, you use your much-stamped payment receipt. The whole time you’re here. Ah, Italy!
[Digression #2: OMG. The roads. Driving our car down here from Scotland seemed like the best way to get here with the dog, who can’t fly due to airline restrictions at the moment. But as we crossed the Italian border, The Hub’s Land Rover somehow morphed into a colossus that literally scrapes one side or another of some of what our GPS fondly believes are streets.
Yesterday we ventured out on that obligatory new-place IKEA run. Our house is in the hills above Florence, so navigation is… well, merda. The maps program pointed us to streets barely wide enough on either side to squeeze past the rows of parked Vespas. You know that part of the rollercoaster where you get to the very top of the track and ahead of you all you can see is empty sky? And then you plunge straight down? Well if that sounds like fun to anyone, you should come here and try it with a line of angry Italian drivers behind you shouting suggestions that seem somehow to involve your mother. Because as far as I can tell, that describes most roads here. After about a year and a half of this torture which the Hub swears was only about twenty minutes, we finally made it to IKEA. I went into the Ladies and threw up. Then I put off the return journey by spending hours buying things our (fully furnished) house didn’t have. Or need. Squishy pan lids in cool turquoise, squishier pillows, and even squishier dinosaur toys for the grands? Hell, yeah.
Now I’m back at the house and thinking I can just stay right here until it’s time to go back to my little Scottish island where the other drivers know my car and my dog and rarely mention my mother.
And that brings us to the actual point of this blog post.**
**[Of course there’s a point. I’m a professional point maker. Do not try this at home.]
The POINT is that I miss all of you so much already and would like to do a zoom call with each and every one of you. And since I’ve also been asked to do a baking session online, I thought it was the perfect opportunity.
I have an invitation for each of you. Join me (virtually) on 17 September at 10AM (London time) 11AM (Italy time)
Arran Bagels [from our Arran bagel class. See post here]
Would you like to bake bagels along with me? How about learn to bake and braid that fabulously gorgeous challah bread with the talented Linda Martin? Or even how to do the round challah braids only used for Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, which starts this year on 18 September? (Or just get a sneak peek at our amazing rented villa in the hills above Florence?)
Round New Year Challah (Image credit: Essential High Holidays From Scratch by Dori Gordon Walker, 2020]
Of course you would! All you need to do is go to here and sign up. It’s absolutely free! They will send you a short list of ingredients for your bagels, and the link to the Zoom meeting. YUM! I can’t wait to see you there, and to taste the bagels and challah.
Register for the online bagel and challah class at: https://tinyurl.com/scojeccreativethursdays
Barb Taub 
hahaha. Your time in Italy will give you LOTS to write about. And while I would love to Zoom with you I am actually sleeping at that time. And I don’t give up my sleep for anybody less than Daniel Craig.
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At least you’ve got your priorities straight!
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I wish I were in Italy with you. I have been stuck home so long.
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Join me virtually!
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Aww I would love to join your for bagel makings but Thursdays are my grandson minding day so I can’t 😦 maybe next time?? I hope it goes well x
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NOTHING comes before grandkids. Priorities indeed!
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By your description of getting your permission to remain, I think you must have moved to Spain by mistake! 5 years later we are still not used to the system. (or lack of) Have fun making bagels on Zoom.
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I guess government bureaucracy is universal.
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Tell me they’re New York bagels and I’ll think well of you forever. Tell me they’re Montral-style and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.
Sorry not to join you. I already bake bagels, although I’m not going to brag about the shaping process. And I hate Zoom. It’s a great idea, though. May you all make many wondrous bagels that turn out better looking than mine.
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I’m afraid to ask about Montral-style, but OF COURSE we’re talking NY! And you know that bagel looks are irrelevant. It’s all in the taste.
Of course, my NYC family are convinced the water makes all the difference. Unfortunately, my bagels are made with whatever water comes out of the tap du jour.
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Montreal-style? Both NY and Montreal are excellent and hold true to the old recipes. Just differences in flavour, imho bagel opinion. 😉
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Montreal bagels are too sweet. I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but they offend me. I’m with you on the looks though: It’s all about taste and texture. And the water? I’m with you on that too. If it comes out of the tap, it’s water and I’ll use it.
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A confession. In Ann Arbor Michigan, they used to make something called a “fragel”–a deep-fried bagel, shaken in cinnamon sugar when still hot. It sounds both disgusting and a cardiac event with a hole in the middle but… it’s actually DELICIOUS. I used to make them for my kids, but I was deeply afraid they would mention this aberration to the rabbi, so I had to desist.
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I can’t come even close to that, but in Minneapolis we were big fans of Bruegger’s Bagels, but Ida loved the cinnamon raisin ones, or the blueberry ones, which I took to called goyische bagels.
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can I come and visit? Hell, can I come and live with you?
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Of course!
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I would love to join! But alas, I’m asleep at that time in preparation for my workday. Have fun with the virtual bagels! 🙂
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I would love to have you join. Maybe we can do another session at more civilized hour. Sorry about the timing.
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We’ll be asleep when you have your baking show, along with the others that live pn the other side of the globe. How about recording it and show it to us when e’re awake.
GrandDad in Seattle.
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Since I can barely stay awake for our weekly call, I do understand the problem. The organization presenting this show has promised to record, and I’ll send you a link.
But you’re already a MUCH better cook than me, plus…you have great bagels nearby. I’m a self-defense bagel baker, only making them because what passes for a bagel in Scotland (basically bread with a hole in the middle) is an abomination that must never be allowed to cross my threshold.
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I was so excited — to see you AND make bagels — until I realized that we’re talking 2 a.m. in Seattle. So, no. Maybe not. I’ll have to get my bagels from the bakery and catch up with you another time. I see GrandDad Taub recommended recording it, but how about just scheduling another class for those of us stateside?
You will be speaking Italian fluently soon, right? And making your own pasta?
xoxox
Karen
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It will be recorded and I will post a link. But the reality, as pointed out to Granddad T, is that you live in Seattle where you can buy wonderful bagels any time you want them. I make bagels because what I can buy doesn’t deserve the name. For the same reason, I make pasta in Scotland too. But here in Italy, making your own pasta would be like making your own croissant in Paris. It’s theoretically possible, but why would you?
There are some other odd things I can’t get here. You have to make your own vanilla using actual vanilla beans and IDK not bake for the 3+ months that takes? Likewise baking powder (which must be made using the baking soda I at last tracked down in the section with the antacids). Coriander is scarcer than hen’s teeth. I don’t understand the yeast. The very sad situation with peanut butter and maple syrup would make you weep. But flour comes in gloriously confusing profusion of grains and grinds. You want to eat the tomatoes like apples. Olive oil takes up an entire row at the supermarket, and shops that you at first think are high end wine merchants only sell olive oils. And don’t even get me started on the glory that is Italian coffee. Or the gelato.
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I’m not a baker at all — but I love bagels! Hugs.
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Cant believe youve left your idyllic scotland… but boy do you have adventures and spunk to resettle YET AGAIN in another lovely locale! I was dying for bagels in india so resorted to making my own. And even a yougart cheese which passed for a cross between goat and creme cheese to put on them.
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Wow! Hats off to you. I’ve made my own self-defense bagels but never had to make my own cream cheese (or Philadelphia as it’s known in the U.K.) I’m almost afraid to ask what you did about the lox…🥯
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OK, I’m going to sign up, though I’m not at my best in the mornings so I’ll have my son with me (he’s not at his best in the mornings, either. Can’t think who he gets it from) and between us we should be fine. I just want to see you 🙂
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Signed up. When will I get my list of ingredients?
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Sorry! Something is obviously not working. I’ll check but meanwhile—
New York Style Bagels In A Hurry
Adapted from The Plate is My Canvas by Dori Gordon Walker ©2019
Makes 12-16 bagels
Ingredients
· 475ml (2 cups) hot water (as hot as tap will give you but not boiling)
· 1 package rapid-rise/bread machine yeast (or 1 tablespoon)
· 42g (2 Tbs.) honey (or sugar)
· 720g (6 cups) bread flour (may substitute 240g (2 cups) whole wheat flour for equivalent white flour)
· 17g (1 Tbs.) salt [*NOTE: use the best salt you can get—kosher, sea salt, etc. You’ll be surprised at the difference it makes.]
Toppings—any of the following, in any combination (or none at all for perfectly simple bagels!):
· poppy seeds
· sesame seeds
· dried onion
· fresh garlic, pressed
· sunflower seeds
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Thanks, Barb. They came through in an email from Fiona this morning! See you tomorrow.
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Ah, bagels… I’ve made more than my computer could keep track of and that was even when I was living in NYC where they are easy to buy and taste amazing. My kids ate them so fast it was a struggle to keep up.
I take it hubby doesn’t have a direct deposit? If only you were in France. I lived here seven months before I actually had all the documents to open my account so I’ve dealt with this issue before without the hassle.
There’s no place like home, wherever home is. 😎🤣😎
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The Hub totally wants direct deposit. But he doesn’t want to pay additional exchange fees. Hence the epic quest for local bank account.
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Bagels are not difficult to make but a three-step cooking process for a true bagel. They must be boiled (make them chewy) broiled (for gloss) and then at last baked.
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Confession: I sacrifice the broil in favor of the speed.
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I’ll be sleeping, but thinking about you. I’ll have a bagel for breakfast when I wake up!
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We missed you! (I ate a bagel in your honor. Many bagels actually. I honored you a LOT!)
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Hahaha!! You’re the best, Barb. 😀
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What is Zoom?
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Zoom is an evil invention designed to make lockdown even less bearable. Here’s how it works as far as I can tell:
“Can you hear me?”
“You have to unmute yourself. No, I’m not making a value judgement. Just click on that little red microphone icon at the bottom of your screen.”
“Can you hear me now?”
“You’re too backlit. We can’t see your face. Turn your computer around so the light is on you.”
“How about now? Can you hear me?”
“Don’t put your phone on your lap. All we can see is your belly. And it can’t POSSIBLY be that huge.” “Oh.” “Well, we still don’t want to see it.”
“NO! For the love of all that’s holy, DO NOT take that phone into the bathroom with you again. There are children on this call.”
“ABSOLUTELY do not mention the T-person. Everyone loses control and it scares the dogs.”
“Now can you hear me?”
“Your wifi is frozen again. Maybe turn off your video?”
“Well, so good to see everyone. Same time next week?”
“Really? Anyone at all? Does anyone hear me?”
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So Andrew: want to Zoom?
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Sounds like fun. I’m sure it’s conducive for making bagels. If one can do without half the ingredients. Sign me up. (Just kidding. The whole thing is way too technical for the likes of me.)
P.S. I like how you answer a three word question with the least possible words.
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Thank you. For me, those were the least possible words. I didn’t even put in the part about how my brother, the Host, let the power go to his head and booted me off the call, and I couldn’t even complain until the next week’s call. You know what they say about absolute power. (Although, I’m guessing that would take more than three words too…)
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