Friday Night Lights

When I was newly out of college, I had a Jewish friend whose family kept Shabbat on Friday nights. When so many people are going in different directions all the time, I knew that this family would always, always be home on Friday nights. It made sense to me. After kindling Sabbath candles, they'd be sitting around the table, overeating, and I'd always be welcome...

As a recent immigrant to Montclair, and as a new matriarch to an existing family, I wanted to toss my Shabbat candlesticks in the ring and see if we could get some traction with this ritual.

When I asked my husband-to-be about it, he was happy, but then again most activities that involve homemade food, friends and hospitality make him happy.

My stepdaughter-to-be heard "Shabbat dinner" and let out a plaintive, "Noooooooooo!"

"What do you think happens on Shabbat?" I asked.

"We have to pray," she responded. "And eat a fancy meal,"

"Sure," I said. "But we also get to invite friends over — kids and adults, and stay up late."

She gave me a hairy eyeball and let it go.

When Friday came, I channeled a shtetl life I never knew. I bought a challah, black-and-white cookies, bittersweet non-pareils, jellied fruit slices and made too many side dishes. My stepdaughter-to-be cut fresh flowers for her playroom.

For our kick-off shabbat, we invited a family of four with two young boys, ages 7 and 10. These friends are also new transplants from Brooklyn, just getting their footing in Jersey, also finding their way with a new synagogue.

We just joined Shomrei Emunah, in Montclair, while they joined Temple Sholom, in Cedar Grove.

[Slightly competitive side note: Temple Sholom dropped off a "welcome challah" earlier in the day for my friends, which they brought over and I captured in my freezer as a back-up. Shomrei: Game on.]

In addition to the challah, our guests brought grape juice, wine and "some new chicken recipe," which was being evaluated as a candidate for Rosh Hashana dinner (Sept 29-30), along with back-up rotisserie chicken.

As soon as I was alone with the contender bird, I had to take a peek. Inside were green olives, dried plums, capers, that sauce…it could only be one thing…

"Julie, did you make Chicken Marbella? Chicken Marbella!!"

She looked at me like I was a little too fired up about this dish, which I was. This was her first Marbella. But it wasn’t mine.

Chicken Marbella was the dish that was made on special Fridays, Rosh Hashana and Passover at my friend’s house when I was in my 20’s. It was the dish that fed a crowd; the recipe that warranted a chafing dish.

If you know Marbella you’re nodding now. If you’re new to Marbella, you won’t be new for long.

Chicken Marbella is a recipe from Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins’ 1982 masterpiece, The Silver Palate Cookbook. It provides the holy trinity (to mix my religious imagery) of conveniences: make-ahead, eat warm or cold, and feeds a crowd. And if that’s not enough, it makes it’s own delicious sauce, calls for ingredients that are reasonably priced, yet interesting enough to make the meal feel special.

On this Shabbat, my first Shabbat in a new place, with a new family and new friends, I was delighted to have an unexpected visit from this old friend. My new friend brought my old friend without even realizing we knew each other.

And then, like a really good guest, she was kind enough to leave the Marbella leftovers behind.

If you’re considering Marbelle, here’s a recipe from Lukins’ 2009 appearance on The Early Show, partnered with Roast Beet and Walnut Salad, Orange Scented Couscous, and Lime Baked Bananas. Perfect for Shabbat, Rosh Hashana, or any time you find fressers at your table.

Allison Fishman is a cooking teacher, TV host and author of You Can Trust A Skinny Cook. For delicious humor & recipes, visit allisonfishman.com or follow @allisonfishman on Twitter.

Read more Soup to Nuts articles.

By submitting comments you grant permission for all or part of those comments to appear in the print edition of New Jersey Monthly.

Required
Required not shown
Required not shown