In 1927, when the word “latke” made its English debut, The American Mercury defined the Hanukkah delicacy as “luscious … pancakes made of grated, raw potatoes, mixed with flour and shortening.” Almost 90 years later, Jews are still frying the potato pancakes, and serving them up as a holiday treat. “The point of latkes at Hanukkah is not the potato but the oil,” Joan Nathan explained to her readers in The New York Times this year. “What matters is the recounting of the miracle of one night’s oil lasting eight nights in the temple over 2,000 years ago.”
Each year, Jews throughout the United States mark the holiday by frying grated potatoes in olive oil, savoring a treat that is, as Nathan put it, “traditional, nostalgic, and crispy.”
Or, at least, crispy. Because there’s nothing traditional about the contemporary American latke. Virtually every element of it is a lie. Delicious? Yes. Traditional? Not in the slightest.
Let’s start with the oil. There weren’t a whole lot of olive trees in the Eastern European lands from which many Jews emigrated to the United States. In the Old World, the common cooking fat was schmaltz—rendered from chickens, geese, or beef. And, in fact, the Mercury specified that latkes were to be “fried in schmaltz.”
But on this side of the Atlantic, Jews soon began to use Crisco—memorably marketed as the miracle for which “the Hebrew Race had been waiting 4,000 years.” When shortening fell from favor, it was replaced by olive oil, allowing Hebrew-school teachers and pulpit rabbis across the country to connect the pancakes to the story of Hannukah. Because if not for the oil, why are Jews celebrating the holiday by frying potatoes in the first place?
Which is a good question. Potatoes, after all, are Andean tubers. They arrived in Europe in the 16th century, but weren’t widely cultivated in Eastern Europe for another 200 years. By the early 19th century, though, they were a staple crop in the lands with large Jewish populations, most often consumed boiled or mashed. Shredding them and frying them in schmaltz elevated a dull staple into a luxurious holiday treat.
But when the landmark Art of Jewish Cooking explained in 1958 that these were the pancakes “which the wives of the soldiers of the ancient hero Judah Maccabee hurriedly cooked for their men behind the lines,” it was off by a couple millennia. One thing we know for certain about the Hasmoneans, heroes of the Hannukah tale? They weren’t eating potatoes.
So what was a latke before the arrival of the potato? Still a pancake, but made from grain—most commonly buckwheat or rye—and fried in schmaltz. That’s what there was in the early winter in those frozen lands, as Gil Marks details in his magisterial Encyclopedia of Jewish Food.
But buckwheat and rye are northerly crops. How did Jews celebrate the festival before they migrated away from the Mediterranean shores? The latke, it turns out, has its roots in an old Italian Jewish custom, documented as early as the 14th century. That, it seems, is where Jews first fried pancakes to celebrate Hannukah. Only back then, they were made of cheese.
Cheese? Well, yes. The original latkes were, effectively, deep-fried ricotta. They honored the custom of celebrating the holiday by consuming dairy goods.
Hold on. Dairy goods? The custom was based on the story of Judith. She seduced a general named Holofernes, who came at the head of an invading army, by feeding him and plying him with wine. As he slipped into an alcoholic stupor, she seized his hair and hacked off his head with a sword. Then she tucked it in with her picnic provisions, left his camp, and presented it to the people of her town to mount on the wall. The terrified invaders fled, and the land was saved.The 14th century, it seems, is when Jews first fried pancakes to celebrate Hannukah. Only back then, they were made of cheese.
Did you miss the part about the cheese? Well, it’s not in the standard text, or in the ancient variants—except for an obscure Syriac version. The Book of Judith—like the books of I and II Maccabees, which relate the story of Hannukah—is not even in the Jewish Bible; it’s an apocryphal text. All three, however, were included in the Bibles of Catholic Europe. Whether through an unbroken chain of transmission, or more probably, as a story adapted from the version preserved in the Vulgate, the tale of Judith began to circulate again in Medieval Jewish communities.
And in one of those Hebrew versions, Judith feeds Holofernes two pancakes, salted and mixed with cheese. That version may have reflected an existing rabbinic tradition, but more likely inserted these details as allusions to other Biblical episodes. But either way, medieval Jewish legal codes soon recorded the custom of eating cheese to honor Judith, variously the sister or aunt of Judah Maccabee.
Clear enough? Only, it turns out, there’s another twist. The story of Judith is actually set hundreds of years before the time of the Maccabees, even though many scholars now believe it was composed in the Hasmonean period. There’s nothing in it to connect Judith to Judah Maccabee, save the similarity of their names; no explicit reason to tie Judith to the celebration of Hanukkah. But without ready access to the book itself, it appears that Medieval Jews conflated Judith’s story with the Hanukkah tale.
It’s a shredded Andean tuber, fried like a buckwheat pancake, which was substituted for Italian cheeses, once eaten to honor a mistaken reading of obscure variants of an apocryphal text.
Of course we associate potato latkes with Hanukkah, but in reality latkes descends from Italian pancakes that were made with ricotta cheese. The first connection between Hanukkah and pancakes was made by a rabbi in Italy named Rabbi Kalonymus ben Kalonymus (c. 1286-1328).
This time of year, I’m often thinking about latkes. As the days get shorter and colder, my main consolation is anticipating Hanukkah, and planning what to cook for gatherings with friends and family. I grew up eating latkes, as did my dad and grandparents, and it can feel like they have always been part of this time of year. But in reality, latkes are a new addition to Hanukkah.
The earliest written reference to fried pancakes (levivot in Hebrew) being served for Hanukkah comes from a 1322 poem by Rabbi Kalonymus ben Kalonymus that describes “levivot large and round, the whole size of the frying pan.” So there’s a historical reason to make extra-big latkes this year. Susan Weingarten connects this poem to a version of the Book of Judith copied in 1402 in Provence that says that Judith fed Holofernes fried cheese pancakes.
As latkes moved to America along with waves of Eastern European Jewish immigrants in the early 20th century, the default cooking oil switched to neutral vegetable oil, a win for my personal Team Plenty of Both. This brings us to today – but the evolution of the latke isn’t necessarily over. There are plenty of modern recipes that incorporate other fried, shredded ingredients like zucchini, spinach and beets.
In the “Encyclopedia of Jewish Food,” Gil Marks traces the spread of ricotta cheese pancakes, which originated as a Hanukkah food in Italy and gradually spread through Europe. In Italy and Central Europe, olive oil and butter were common cooking fats, but in Eastern Europe, especially in the winter, schmaltz was easier to come by. Kosher law prohibits mixing meat and milk, so cheese pancakes evolved into being made with root vegetables like turnips or with rye or buckwheat flour. Once fried pancakes became meat dishes instead of dairy dishes, it was common to serve them with jam (a point for Team Applesauce).
As fried pancakes were becoming a widespread Hanukkah food, potatoes were spreading through Europe. It took some time after potatoes were brought over from South America for them to become a staple. People were initially wary of many new vegetables, including tomatoes and pumpkins. But because potatoes are nutritious, grow well in low-quality soil, and can be stored for long periods of time, they gradually spread across the continent. Potatoes went from being unheard of to being responsible for a quarter of the population growth in Europe between 1700 and 1900. In Eastern Europe, the tipping point to greater acceptance came with crop failures in 1839 and 1840 in Ukraine and Poland. To prevent a famine, people planted huge numbers of potatoes. They became such a staple that they were cheaper than flour, and potato latkes became the default they are today. The word “latke” itself comes from the Slavic “oladka” for a small fried pancake, from the Greek “elaion” for olive oil, and came into use by the mid 15th century.
Cheese? Well, yes. The original latkes were, effectively, deep-fried ricotta. They honored the custom of celebrating the holiday by consuming dairy goods.
Or, at least, crispy. Because there’s nothing traditional about the contemporary American latke. Virtually every element of it is a lie. Delicious? Yes. Traditional? Not in the slightest.
So what was a latke before the arrival of the potato? Still a pancake, but made from grain—most commonly buckwheat or rye—and fried in schmaltz. That’s what there was in the early winter in those frozen lands, as Gil Marks details in his magisterial Encyclopedia of Jewish Food.
In 1927, when the word “latke” made its English debut, The American Mercury defined the Hanukkah delicacy as “luscious … pancakes made of grated, raw potatoes, mixed with flour and shortening.” Almost 90 years later, Jews are still frying the potato pancakes, and serving them up as a holiday treat. “The point of latkes at Hanukkah is not the potato but the oil,” Joan Nathan explained to her readers in The New York Times this year. “What matters is the recounting of the miracle of one night’s oil lasting eight nights in the temple over 2,000 years ago.”
It’s a shredded Andean tuber, fried like a buckwheat pancake, which was substituted for Italian cheeses, once eaten to honor a mistaken reading of obscure variants of an apocryphal text.
History of Latkes
FAQ
Why do Jews eat latkes on Hanukkah?
What country invented potato pancakes?
What cultures eat potato pancakes?
What is the difference between German potato pancakes and latkes?
Where did latkes come from?
Latkes come from the story of Judith, a Jewish woman who was known as a heroine for beheading the Assyrian army’s general, Holofernes. How did she do it? She fed him some salty, cheesy pancakes and went in for the kill when he passed out drunk on her wine.
What are latkes made of?
Latkes made of grated potatoes are popular. They are prepared by grating potatoes and onions with a box grater or food processor; then, excess moisture is squeezed out. The grated potatoes are then mixed with eggs and flour or matzo meal; a vegan version uses chickpea flour and potato starch instead of eggs.
How do you make latkes?
Food blogger Tori Avey of “The Shiksa in the Kitchen” shares the history of latkes in a guest post on PBS Food. Combine all ingredients except the nonstick oil in a food processor. Process the mixture for about 45 seconds, pausing a couple of times to scrape the sides, until the mixture forms a thick batter.
Are potato latkes related to Hanukkah?
Of course we associate potato latkes with Hanukkah, but in reality latkes descends from Italian pancakes that were made with ricotta cheese. The first connection between Hanukkah and pancakes was made by a rabbi in Italy named Rabbi Kalonymus ben Kalonymus (c. 1286-1328).