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Alexandria Fanjoy Silver, Peoplehood Fellow

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Alexandria Fanjoy Silver, Peoplehood Fellow

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Sumptuous Duck Cholent

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I’m currently writing a book on Jewish history through food, a topic I originally developed a passion for as a path to explain to my non-Jewish foodie parents the Jewish community and history I had so fallen in love with. One of the vignettes I’m developing is on the history of the French peasant dish Cassoulet (which my parents made for me when I was growing up) and the Ashkenazi dish Cholent (which they did not), but the roux — and plot — thickened when my parents went to the Languedoc and found our family’s history in the same place where Cassoulet was invented. Near to Castelnaudery, there was a town called Fanjeux — which was the pre-Anglicized version of my family name (it became “Fanjoy"). Some genealogical discovery later, turns out that a thousand years ago, it’s likely that my ancestors may have been on either side of the Knights’ Templar battles against Catharism.

Castelnaudery, a centre of Catharism, was also a besieged city in the Medieval Hundred Years’ War, and apparently it was here where Cassoulet was invented. As their soldiers fought the British year after year, at one point, members of the village came together to make a stew full of beans and meat to feed their hungry army; thus, the now famous peasant dish with regional variations from all over France was born. But the story might have more global — even Jewish — roots than many a Frenchman may admit to.
Just across the border, a popular peasant dish that developed in the large Jewish community in Spain at the time was called “Hamin,” where people would throw leftovers from the week into a pot and fill it with beans, barley or other grains. In Spain, the big white beans often used to make this dish are now known as judias, which means “Jewish.” This hearty stew was also soon found in Southern France, just over the Pyrenees, and in the 12th century, Castelnaudry created the first so-called “Cassoulet,” a peasant dish of white beans, pork, duck, and other cuts of offal. It was cooked very similarly to Hamin, on a residual fire, for 24 hours. This way, the offcuts of meat melted into the white beans, and the two melded together in gastronomic harmony.

The French Jewish community started calling the similar — albeit pork-less — dish Cholent or Schalet (the latter of which sounds rather similar to Cassoulet), thought to be connected to the French words chaud and lent, hot and long, ie. how one cooks said stew. Per John Cooper, the first known use of the word “cholent” is in the 12th century, when Rabbi Isaac of Vienna notes that he ate it at his teacher’s home in France. The idea that Cassoulet and Cholent were born of the same communities is given a bit more weight by the fact that in the 14th century, French Jews were kicked out of the Languedoc area, and it’s in the decades thereafter that Jews in Germany start making cholent, indicating that the recipe found its way into Central Europe via these Southern French Jews.

While intellectually, I understand that this is just one more example of a history of the strange paths food took around the world, and the way that Jews took just enough from their host societies to survive but also adapted those contexts to fit their religious needs, at this moment, it also takes on a different level of resonance. I love my parents so much, and I also recognize that (while I’m fairly sure it’s fine now), my conversion was not easy for them. Of course it wasn’t! Even though I was hardly rejecting their religious practices (as they didn’t have any), having your child who you are very close seemingly reject a key element of their upbringing could hardly be palatable. That said, I’m raising my children the exact same way my parents raised me, with all of the same values, just with a different religion. They danced the hora with us at our wedding, and they celebrate Chanukah with us every year, they come to my kids’ model seders and have travelled with us to Israel. But it wasn’t until October 7th that I truly saw the way in which my Jewish family had deepened and expanded my relationship with my parents, and in a strange way, made me love them even more. From organizing events to talk about the history of the conflict, to combatting antisemitic motions made by their alma mater, from popularizing a blog about Jewish food history to all of their friends, to coming to Toronto’s Walk with Israel, my educated liberal parents prove that they do not just talk the talk of allyship, they are out there doing the work every day. And discovering my family’s history in the place where it’s likely that the earliest version of Cholent, in many ways the defining Ashkenazi Jewish dish, originated, felt besheret. It’s almost as if there’s a small intersection in history where the Fanjoys — sorry, the Fanjeuxs — and the Jewish community overlapped in a meaningful way, that there’s some roots of my own family’s past in a dish that defines the community that I chose.

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Seco de Carne

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Seco de carne holds a deep personal and cultural connection for me as a Peruvian Jew, embodying both the layers of my identity and the rich intersections of Jewish memory and meaning. In many ways, this dish reflects the adaptability and resilience that have long been hallmarks of Jewish tradition. Just as Jewish communities have incorporated local flavors and ingredients into their culinary traditions across the diaspora, seco de carne tells a story of blending cultural influences—African, Andean, and Spanish—into something uniquely Peruvian.

For me, seco de carne is often tied to the warmth of Shabbat meals with my family. Though not traditionally Jewish, its slow-cooked preparation mirrors the intentionality and care that go into making cholent or other Sabbath stews, embodying the values of rest, nourishment, and connection. It is a dish that reminds me of the Jewish principle of hachnasat orchim (hospitality), as sharing a hearty plate of seco with loved ones around the table has always been a way of bringing people together.

On a deeper level, seco de carne also embodies the Jewish narrative of migration and resilience. Like my own family’s journey from Peru to North America, this dish carries traces of adaptation, evolution and memory. It reminds me that while we carry traditions forward, they are enriched by the places and communities we encounter along the way. Seco de carne is a culinary expression of how my Peruvian and Jewish identities coexist, reinforcing the importance of honoring both memory and reinvention in shaping who we are.

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Margalit's Lentil Soup

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I officiated at the bar and bat mitzvah of Margalit's great grandchildren in the congregation I served already many years ago. The family was very dear to me and occasionally I run into a family member. I will never forget Savta Margalit, her joy at seeing her great grandchildren's milestone, her openness in her first time in a Reform synagogue. She also gave advice on decorating the building. She was from a Sephardic-Mizrachi background, married off at quite a young age. The family gave me a present of her recipes, it is also a beautiful book with photos and stories from her life. The recipes are very homey, hearty and many are very simple to make. My kids love her lentil soup and it is so easy to make. It is a staple in our house. Though she has since passed on, I love taking out her book and thinking about her and my wonderful times in the congregation.

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Mikhael Reuven Kesher, Peoplehood Fellow

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Mikhael Reuven Kesher, Peoplehood Fellow

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Celery Soup

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Celery soup was a staple at Shabbat and holiday meals with my late maternal grandmother. I was a picky eater as a child, so wouldn't have touched the stuff, but I grew to appreciate it as an adult and today my wife and I make it annually to mark her yahrzeit.

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Sophie Bigot Goldblum, Peoplehood Fellow

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Sophie Bigot Goldblum, Peoplehood Fellow

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Dafina

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Dafina is the traditional shabbat lunch dish in many french jewish homes. It's a dish I associate with Shabbat, with the luxury of time that comes with it, and the necessary nap that follows eating such a heavy dish! 

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Lala's Auflauf

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Challah

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When we spent 2 years in NY as Hebrew teachers, I really missed the Challah from home so I started making my own, and I have been doing so ever since. The smell and taste of fresh Challah really connects to Shabbat for me. Also, every Shabbat I make extras so I can give my siblings or parents/in-laws.

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Michael Twitty's Black Eyed Pea Hummus

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According to this recipe's chef, noted Historian and Educator Michael Twitty, Black Eyed Pea hummus represents an amalgamation of Jewish/Middle Eastern Culture and African American culture.                  In his words: "Originally from ancient West Africa, black-eyed peas are a significant part of the cuisine of the Levant to this day, moving with African people throughout the region. Hummus, emblematic and beloved by many cultures in the Levant—is a dish that relies on the staple legume of the Arab farmer and ancient biblical standby, the chickpea." As a proud Black and Jewish person, I see this as the purest way to express way to express my own identity through food. I have fed many a friend because of this recipe, and it's become a favorite of mine to prepare for Shabbat and Yom Tov. And it's delicious! 

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Chicken Marbella

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Growing up, my Shabbat memories revolve around our family table. My mom, a gifted and passionate cook, delighted in creating elaborate multi-course meals that were as beautiful as they were delicious. Growing up in both Los Angeles and Israel, her dishes always showcased the freshest, most vibrant ingredients, capturing the essence of what was available around us.

My dad, on the other hand, brought the spiritual nourishment. He loved studying Torah and teaching us zmirot—the soulful songs of Shabbat. Our time at the table often stretched for hours, filled with the blend of laughter, learning, and song. It wasn’t uncommon for us to bring blankets to the dining room and fall asleep there, wrapped in the warmth of family and tradition.

One dish that stands out from those treasured meals is Chicken Marbella. A perfect blend of sweet and savory, it features ingredients that are close to my heart and deeply tied to my roots in both Israel and California. When we moved to New Jersey in my teens, a somewhat foreign place, I would often request it—a culinary bridge to the familiar comforts of home.

Chicken Marbella remains an immediate comfort food for me. It’s a dish I now love to prepare for my own kids and guests at our Shabbat table, continuing the tradition of warmth, flavor, and connection that it represents.

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Birthday Cake

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I've hesitated a lot over this question because I think that I didn't really grow up cooking anything much that qualifies as "Jewish food". And though there's many Jewish recipes I've learnt since, it also feels inauthentic to share them. So in the end, I'm sharing my family birthday cake recipe. I've written it out above of my own accord – I don't have a written version to hand. There's no particular Jewish lineage to it, rather it's a very English cake – even including powdered eggs in my grandmother's version of it because of rationing. But that reflects my family story – on one side in England as far back as the 1700s, and on the other, secular German immigrants in the 30s. How long does it take for something to become a tradition? For me, this is the family birthday cake going back generations, Jewish origin or not. So it's what I'm sharing!

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1 packet "rich tea" or "morning coffee" biscuits (Americans won't have heard of either of these!), ~200g4 oz dark chocolate, 2 eggs, 4 oz butter. Break up biscuits to medium sized pieces.Beat together sugar and eggs and butter and melted chocolate.Pour chocolate over biscuits and mix well.Line a deep dish with oiled greaseproof paper and pour cake mix. Leave in the fridge to set. Generally when serving, we decorate the top with some appropriate message or name in white chocolate drops.                    

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Vassar Challah

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This is the challah recipe from my college. It reminds me of my peers becoming Jewish role models for me, Judaism being something my peers and I created rather than adults making it for us.

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Sufganiyot

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I make these doughnuts every year as Sufganiyot for a Chanuka party that my spouse and I have hosted for 7+ years now, lovingly titled "Sufgan Stevens" (after the singer Sufjan Stevens). We try to invite the widest range of people to this gathering - a beautiful way to hold space for warmth in the darkness and give people a sweet treat to nibble on while hanging out. 

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Hamantaschen

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This recipe was handed down by my mother-in-law from her mother. It has been made with three generations of grandchildren and has evolved over the generations. It has been shared widely in different communities and is called the best hamantaschen recipe and cookie by LOTS of cooks. 

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Chulent

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Cholent is the quintessential Shabbat food.  While I didn't grow up in an observant home -- and didn't really know about cholent -- it is now a staple of my Shabbat diet.  Better yet, my daughter's recipe is a favorite of mine and of almost anyone else who has tasted it.  What could be better than learning from one's children??  My grandkids are begging me to enter the "cholent contest" with this recipe at an annual kiddush in their shul.  :)

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Secret of Challah Half and Half Recipe

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We love to bake challah for Shabbat. I often jazz up this recipe with some vanilla extract in the dough. We also like to top the challah with rainbow sprinkles or chocolate chips because Shabbat is the sweetness of our week. But, the best part of our challah isn’t the challah itself, we have a honey course to start our Friday night shabbat meals. We bring different kinds/flavors of honey out to try with our challah. It started one Shabbat many years ago when we were worried that we didn’t have enough food for our guests and we decided to fill them up with honey and challah. Of course, there was more than enough food and we had leftovers for weeks but we also had a new family tradition! This family tradition is something we look forward to each week and we especially love to share it with guests. We hope you’ll join us for a one Friday night! 

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Challah

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I make challot every week, and often use rosemary from my garden. My daughters are now at university and so I regularly send them challah rolls for their shabbats while away. They tell me that it gives them a taste of home. I save up and freeze all the bits of dough that are taken when saying the bracha (halachic throwback to temple offerings…), I bake this dough before Pesach and use it to do bedikat chametz. 

 I got this recipe from my friend Benedict who makes the best challot. He gave it to me years ago, and while he and I may swear blind that we are following the same recipe, our challot always come out differently to each other. (His are better) One of us, probably both of us, has adapted the recipe and changed it without realising we are innovating. Which is to say, this is a very heavy-handed metaphor for the diversity of Jewish practice… 

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[Strawberry Cheesecake:] I made a version of this cake almost every year at the end of rabbinical school for our special "cake day", and I also enjoy making and sharing it with my mom when I go and visit her.  [honey cake] - This is the honey cake recipe that my family has used for Rosh Hashanah baking every year for as long as I can remember. It's the taste that starts our Jewish year. 

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Vegan Strawberry Cheesecake & 5 Ingredient Raw Chocolates

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.Jw8JtzNk
I made a version of this cake almost every year at the end of rabbinical school for our special "cake day", and I also enjoy making and sharing it with my mom when I go and visit her. [The Chocolates: I enjoy making these chocolates for special occasions (I'll use candy molds), especially for Mishloach Manot on Purim!]

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This is the honey cake recipe that my family has used for Rosh Hashanah baking every year for as long as I can remember. It's the taste that starts our Jewish year. 

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Uevos Haminados

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Uevos Haminados are served more frequently in my Sephardic family than any other kind of eggs. Though the name comes from hamin, the Sabbath stew, my family makes them on their own in large batches that simmer overnight in a pot. With boyos or borekas they round out a light meal and are one of the "musts" for the Passover Seder. My family also eats them at the Yom Kippur break fast meal.

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Sweet Noodle Kugel

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This was the Jewish food that defined my shul experience. Sweet enough to be a treat, but real-food enough to convince my parents that I was allowed to eat it right away. We only started going to synagogue because I was approaching my bar mitzvah, but it was the first place where I ever truly connected to prayer and I would eat this every week there!

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Chocolate & Almond Balls

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When I plan for Pesach I always go to the oldest cookbook in my collection, Evelyn Rose’s International Jewish Cookbook. Evelyn Rose was the “Julia Child” of the UK Jewish community, and her book is an authority on (British) Jewish food. I have been making these cookies every year for as long as I can remember, and it is always the first thing I make, so that the smell of these chocolate balls is always the smell that is the start of Pesach for me. I always make multiple batches because most of them get eaten before Pesach even starts! (And they are gluten free and parev!)

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Chocolate and Almond Balls
Evelyn Rose’s “The New Complete International Jewish CookBook” 
1992

Makes 24
Keeps 1 week at room temperature in an airtight container.
Freeze 3 months.

These have a rich chocolate flavour.

4oz/1 cup ground almonds
4oz/1 1/3 cups desiccated coconut
7oz/1 cup caster (superfine) sugar (I just use regular granulated)
4 level tbsp cocoa
2 teaspoons honey
2 egg whites

Stir together in a bowl the ground almonds, 3 oz of the coconut, the sugar and cocoa. Mix to a soft paste with the honey and unbeaten egg whites. With wetted palms, roll into balls the size of a small plum. Dip into the remaining coconut and arrange, 2 inches apart, on baking trays. Bake at 400 degrees F for 8-10 minutes until the coconut is lightly browned - the biscuits should still be moist inside. Carefully lift onto a cooling tray and store when quite cold.

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Boulette

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Every time we went to my Safta's house for a festive meal we ate Boulette. We sat around a table and first got couscous with vegetables (squash, zucchini, carrots, chickpeas) and my Safta would come around scooping Boulette onto each of our plates. To me, Boulette symbolizes the meticulous and technical work that goes into every bite. The love of my grandmother and the way that we can consume something so quickly that took so long to make.