Customer Reviews

A Drizzle of Honey : The Lives and Recipes of Spain's Secret Jews

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I came across this in the shelves the other day and was mesmerized. David Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson are a husband and wife team and teachers at the the University of Rhode Island. David is a past winner of the 1996 National Jewish Book Award, and he is a specialist in aljamas (jewish neighborhoods), the converso/crypto Jews, the anusim (forced converts) and the meshumadim (willing coverts). Using cookbooks and Inquisition documents in Spanish, Portuguese and Catalan (including the rare 13th Century Al Andalus cookbook of the Cocina Hispano-Magribi), the authors have recreating over 90 recipes of the Converso jewish community. During the Inquisitions in the Iberian peninsula, Jews and Moslems were killed, exiled, or converted. Some of the converted remained Jewish or Moslem and became Crypto-Jews, Crypto-Moslems, or Conversos. Spain expelled Jews in 1492 (you know, when Columbus sailed the Ocean Blue); Portugal expelled Jews in 1497. The recipes are well categorized, and make use of lamb, beef, fish, eggplant, greens, turnips, chickpeas, as well as mace, cinnamon, ginger, lavender, rue, portulaca, and dozens of other spices. Most recipes include histories and characters of the period, which is the prime motivation to purchase this book. For example, along of the recipes of Beatrice Nunez, we learn that she was arrested in 1485. Her maid turned her in to the Inquisition for the crime of maintaining a kosher kitchen. She also prepared a Sabbath stew of lamb, chickpeas and eggs. Proof enough to have her burned at the stake. Among my favorite recipes is Mayor Gonzalez's Egg and Carrot Casserole. She was imprisoned in 1483 for killing a goose in "the Jewish way." Then there is Juan Sanchez's hamin of chickpeas, spinach and cabbage; and Maria de Luna's rasquillas, honey pastries that she prepared for the post-Yom Kippur fast. She was arrested in 1505 for this crime. There is also Juan de Teva's Roast Lamb dish. Juan's father was a rabbi who was burned to death i n1484. The authors also include the Roast Chicken with Fruit and Almori recipe of Anton de Montoro. Senor de Montoro was a rag merchat in Cordoba, but is most well known as being the converso poet to the Court of Queen Isabel of Castile. De Montoro was accused of preparing stuffed radishes (a Jewish dish) and Pollo Judio (jewish chicken). Easily, this is among the top three Jewish Cookbooks of the year.

My review of this book would have to paraphrase that of "distinctive crypto jewish cusine"--this is the history of my grandmother's kitchen. There had been many indications that my family had had jewish origins, and this book reinforces that belief on every page. I used to think of my grandmother as the "swiss chard queen"; here I learned that it's a primary crypto jewish food, the injestion of which could have led one to be a victim of the inqisition for "judaizing." Not only is it a cookbook, as has been noted elsewhere, but a poignant, close-up history of those unfortunate souls persecuted by the spanish simply because they were jews. The recipes are all do-able and just like grandma used to make.

David Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson have successfully compiled numerous recipes from the medieval timeperiod. As a vegetarian, this book was of little use to me in the kitchen (three-quarters of the recipes are meat based) but if I did eat meat, some of the stews would probably be delicious and easily adapted to a crockpot! The real strength of this book comes from the meticulous scholarship of the authors who give a fascinating glimpse into the lives of conversos (Jews living as Christians for survival). In many of the stories (and a little vignette accompanies each recipe), jealous neighbors or suspicious gentile servants reveal the outcomes of their spying on their neighbors (my favorite being the servant who noted that her mistress must definitely be a Jew since she uncomplainingly leapt into bed with her husband on Friday night in contrast to all the other days of the week!). Gitlitz and Davidson pain an excellent picture of medieval life in close quarters and successfully transmit the constant stress and tension in the lives of these individuals trying to straddle two worlds.

What a marvellous, marvellous book. Did I say it was marvellous? Well its simply marvellous. It would be a great asset for people who like historical recipes, but also for those that just like good food. I must admit I have a penchant collecting up old recipes. Up until now I have only ever read English recipes and I had never come across any Jewish cooking before let alone old recipes from Spanish Jews. I just can't believe how wonderful the recipes are and what a fantastic job the authors of this have done in presenting them.

The introduction to the book is brief and to the point . Its an interesting background on the period, the people and the ingredients that were used. I ought to say here that I don't really know if this is more history book or a recipe book, but whatever it is the authors get the balance right. They have interspaced each recipe with a pertinent story about the Spanish Jews prosecution for religion - or should I say persecution?

Each recipe has all the ingredients, which are as authentic as possible, as well as all the measurements and temperatures and so on to make it work for modern kitchens.

I have the book in hardcover but I notice the paperback version is now available, unfortunately I don't know if the paperback has the same production values. The Harcover has a wonderfully warm honey bright cover which I loved. The paper inside was also nice, it has the 'uncut' roughened look to the edges and they use a type face for the headgins which makes it seem more authentic. Its kind of picky but I wish they hadn't used the colour they did on the pages - its all done in this sort of browny/red colour. Its the only thing I didn't like about the book.

There are quite a few explanatory footnotes at the end of the book too for various dishes &c.. However there aren't any lavish pictures of the dishes which one would usually expect in a cookbook- all the printing is in one colour and it is just words and the odd line drawing, but then pictures just don't seem to be needed.

Most of the recipes seem really simple and with some 300 pages of them I haven't yet tried many- Aldonza Lainez's Turnip and Cheese Casserole (page 55) is my favourite so far - but quite a few of the desserts look too tempting for words (Mexican Almond cookies - page 276)

Who were the secret Jews of the Iberian Peninsula? I have heard the term "Marano", but this book talks about "Crypto-Jews" and "Conversos." There are other terms as well. They were Jews who forcibly or willingly converted to Christianity during the Inquisition and continued to live in Spain, Portugal, and their colonies after the 1492 expulsion. "Crypto" refers to those who tried to still live as underground Jews, at least in the first two generations, and to preserve something of their Jewish heritage, always in danger of being informed on and subject to the Inquisition. Even today, there are people who can trace their ancestry to the Maranos or conversos.

This is a meticulously researched historical cookbook by a husband and wife team who are professors at the University of Rhode Island. The documentation comes from medieval cookbooks and surprisingly from Inquisition trial records, where we have the actual names of the accused. The culinary influences span the 14th through the 17th centuries, but the focus of this book is on the recipes of conversos, converted Jews who continued under Spanish and Portuguese rule after the the 1492 expulsion.

In many cases, the original recipes of those on trial were only lists, but through the medieval cookbooks, they were able to clarify a lot of the confusion. This is not a Kosher cookbook. There is even a recipe which includes pork, which shows the extent to which some of the conversos had assimilated. Indeed, as the authors point out, what makes these recipes Jewish and proof of the accused individuals' Jewish practice, is sometimes in doubt, as prior to the Inquisition period at the beginning of the 14th century, the three main religions lived side by side and all cooking was largely a mixture of Mediterranean and Arabic influences, and what was available in the region. The inquisitors, albeit not looking for true justice, must have recognized that, and appeared much more interested in obtaining "proof" of "Judaizing" through observance and practice - evidence of Kashering meats for example, not eating pork or shellfish, and evidence of preparation of special holiday foods, such as Matzoh, and preparing foods especially for Friday night.

The authors have lab tested the recipes and updated them for the modern kitchen, while preserving the text of the original. For example, they humorously tell you how they have altered receipes for Almori, a fermented down mess of rotted barley, vegetables, unleavened bread, salt, herbs, and spices. Lamb was a popular meat dish, and is replicated here in meat pies. Sausages, fish, cheeses, and various egg recipes are represented. There are several matzoah "Pan Cenceno" recipes and one for "Harotzet Balls."

This is an important contribution to a little known period of Jewish history and a tribute to those who died or suffered for their religion. Whether you try these recipes in your kitchen or not, without a doubt but you will want to read and relish this book from cover to cover.

I received this book as a present several years ago, but I've never cooked any of the recipes. That's despite the fact that several of them sound good, some VERY good, such as roast chicken stuffed with fruit, ginger and lavender; or a fish and eggplant casserole.

However, the book is of more interest historically than it is as a "what to make for dinner tonight" inspiration. There's two reasons -- one that would ordinarily make these dishes appealing, and one that creeps me out.

The positive side, first. Most recipes we have from the middle ages are those of the nobility -- the people who could afford to stuff a tiny bird inside a larger bird inside another one inside an even bigger one. In contrast, this is a book of recipes of (or at least inspired by) the "ordinary" middle class person of Spain in the 1400s and 1500s. So if you're interested in the evolution of cooking, and what people ate before the discovery of the New World introduced corn, tomatoes, and potatoes, this is a fascinating book all on its own. But you may not want to read it late at night, if you're prone to nightmares.

That's because the history it illuminates is depressing. The recipes are culled from detailed stories about the Spanish Inquisition, particularly the expulsion of the Jews, the torture of those who would not confess, and the "evidence" of those who converted to Christianity but who were accused of still practicing Judaism. Quite often, the "evidence" was a neighbor observing what the family ate ("In Almazan in 1501, an anonymous witness reported that when Isabel Velez's father died, the family sat at a low table near the door, and ate 'a casserole made of chard and bread crumbs and cheese,' which Isabel had prepared at home and brought to her father's house"). You get the testimony of the trial, sometimes the result (such as burning), and then an analysis of the dish that was mentioned ("Typical of Iberian Jewish funerals was a communal meal eaten in the house of the deceased after the funeral..."). The authors figure out a recipe that matches what was mentioned and reflects what was known to be available ingredient-wise (so it may not be *exactly* what the Accused had, but it's close, and how can one object to a tasty chard-cheese casserole?).

Historically, it's fascinating. But do I really want to cook a chicken that got some woman killed 500 years ago? In some sense, I do; it keeps her memory alive. But, uh, I think I'll just make this OTHER roast chicken instead, which doesn't have all that weird karma tied up in it. Enough of those, and -- well, as I said, I've had the book for about 5 years and I haven't cooked anything from it.

However, I'm not planning to give the book away, because it is wonderful and fascinating from a foodie historian perspective. Aside from the reason these scholars brought up the subject, it's great to learn about the thickeners used at the time, a discussion of what almori is or was (a staple of medieval Islamic cooking), and so on. And this might be a 5 star book, from that viewpoint.

If you view it simply in that manner, with the recipes as illustrations, perhaps it won't make you feel that weird. Or, if you have a stronger stomach than I, go ahead and cook the recipes; some of them seem awesome. Let me know how it turns out, okay?

A Drizzle of Honey is many books at once. While it is often featured in cookbook sections, that is a tiny part of what makes it great. Indeed, as a cookbook it is strange, because like most pre-columbian european cuisine, the food does not seem very apetizing. What is wonderful is that the book is a great social history, telling how crypto Jews who remained in Spain after the inquisition were often caught because of foods that they ate and when they ate them. One can imagine the inquisition puzzling over recipes to identify some as "jewish" and therefore suspect.

The stories that the author gives along with the recipes are extremely moving and tell the tale of a people struggling to hold onto their identity in the face of adversity. While you may not want to eat the food, it will certainly want to make you cry.

I was excited when I first heard about this book, but when I got a copy, I was quite disappointed.

First the good... the recipes produce tasty dishes.

But they are not the recipes of Spain's Jews, secret or public.

These are recipes invented by the authors with a minimum of supporting evidence, or, in fact, most of the time, none at all.

They are based for the most part on the testimony of people who turned in Conversos for being "secrect Jews". The mere mention of, oh, say, chick peas and honey, has led the authors to invent a recipe that includes these ingredients.

If you are truly interested in the history the food eaten by Spain's Jews, you will not learn much. If you want some nice Spainish-style recipes eaten by Jews, you'll probably do better skipping the sad tales of betrayal and torture and buying a modern Sephardic cookbook.

I was very delighted to read this insightful gastronomic reference. Although, it is more than a recipe book, it is also a telling account on what it took to go through the Inquisitional process. Hence, a Drizzle of Honey, is much more than one bargains for. I have also made the Adafina that is included in the book, and it was quite good. The Inquisition was not necessarily aimed at mainstream "Jews" per se, but at Conversos, or "Jews"who were forcibly converted.
It is very interesting that in many respects the Jewish converts to Christianity were many times denounced on the slightest pretext of eating in the "Jewish" manner. It could be as forthright as not eating pork for "health" reasons, or as absurd as making stew with Swiss chard, both being indicators of a "relapsed" Jew, in other words a Christian heretic. To our postmodern sensibilities these gastronomic preferences are almost comical. But to many of my relatives in Spain living under those Medieval conditions it was absolutely terrifying. I've got to hand it to Mr. Gitlitz, his premise for this book is very well thought out. This book is probably not for the weak of heart or stomach, given that some references in his book are counterintuitive when it comes to appetite. But, for those who want to learn about our tragic past, and who want to see if some of the recipes are what our grandmothers cooked, I fully recommend it. My Mother always cooked with Swiss chard and used olive oil in her meals. In Spain this would have been a sure sign that we are Jewish. Oh well.

Recently I picked up a copy of the book, "A Drizzle of Honey: the Lives and Recipes of Spain's Secret Jews". It has a fascinating and well documented history as well some marvelous redactions of the most likely constructs of recipes. I recall learning briefly about the secret Sepahrdim in hebrew school. This book gives marvelous insight and helps recreate a delicious cuisine. I am fairly certain that either this passover or the next I am going to attempt a full Sephardic sedar for a change of pace and add some culinary excitement.