Recipes

Zalabia: A Bite of Good Fortune

Eat one or a whole bunch. No one's counting. photo © Lacee Brunn Jr

By Claudette Sutton
Photos by Lacee Brunn

As Hanukkah approaches, I’m looking for good omens and signs of serendipity wherever I can find them.

Hanukkah commemorates the revolt of the Maccabees, a small, upstart band of Jews in the second century BCE against the religious oppression of the powerful Seleucid Greek empire. According to legend, when the Jews at last were able to return to their desecrated temple, they found that all but a bit of their ritual oil had been defiled. Lighting the sacred candelabra with what they seemed barely enough oil to last a night, they found that it burned for a full eight days and nights, long enough for them to press more oil and keep the light glowing.

Today, we mark the holiday by lighting another candle each night for eight consecutive nights – an apt ritual for a holiday at the darkest time of the year – and by eating foods fried in oil, making tasty use of the ingredient at the crux of the holiday.

Here in the United States, the culinary centerpiece is likely to be latkes: potato pancakes fried in oil, sprinkled with salt, and topped with apple sauce or sour cream. What’s not to love? This treat was popularized by the Ashkenazi Jews from Eastern Europe, where potato is king. We look forward to them each year in our interfaith household, even though I am not of Ashkenazi heritage, and my husband is not Jewish.

In Israel, a common Hanukkah food is sufganiyot: pillowy, deep-fried donuts filled with jelly and dusted with powdered sugar. We tried making these one year when our son was little. They were tasty, but the kitchen ended up looking like someone had detonated a flour bomb.

In my Syrian and Egyptian Jewish heritage, we have zalabia (also a common treat on Ramadan), deep-fried balls of dough, glazed with orange blossom syrup. Mom never made these, but I got a recipe from Aunt Vivian, who has fond memories of eating them on family trips to the beach outside Cairo, where vendors would hawk: “Zalabia! Loukoumades! Zalabia! Loukoumades!” – as they are called in Arabic and Greek.

To put Aunt Vivi’s recipe to the test, I engaged the help of my son and daughter-in-law (who share my commitment to research-based journalism).

We found that zalabia are quicker to make than sufganiyot, and a lot less messy. And after a little trial and error, they yield yummy results. They’re also small, meaning you can eat a little bit or a lot. As a bonus, many Middle Eastern cultures believe eating sweet foods brings good fortune and helps ward off the evil eye.

Cook in batches, so as not to overcrowd them (could have used more oil!) photo © Lacee Brunn

Step 1: Make the dough. Stir 1 teaspoon of dry yeast and ½ teaspoon of sugar into ½ cup of warm water and let stand for 10-15 minutes, until bubbles start to form. Put 2 cups of flour and ½ teaspoon of salt in a large bowl, then add the yeast mixture. Slowly pour in 1 cup of warm water and stir vigorously until smooth. Cover the bowl with wax paper or a damp towel. Let rise for at least an hour, until the dough has about doubled in size. Expect it to be wetter than bread dough, more like pancake batter.

Step 2: Make the glaze. Combine 2 cups of sugar, 1 cup of water, and the juice of half a lemon in a saucepan. Simmer at low heat for about 15 minutes, until the sugar has thoroughly dissolved and the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Towards the end of the simmering process, add ½ teaspoon (or more; see below) of orange blossom water. Remove from the stove and let cool.

Step 3: Fry the fritters. Heat cooking oil, about 1½ inches deep, until sizzling in a small saucepan over medium heat. Drop batter into the oil, using a small or large spoon as you prefer. (Tip: Coating your spoon in oil first will help the sticky batter slide off more easily.) The dough will poof up when it hits the hot oil. Fry in batches of 6 to 10 (depending on size), so as not to overcrowd your pan. Turn the fritters once or twice so they brown evenly.

This step is where the trial and error came in. Our first batch had a nice golden hue but was still doughy inside. When we cooked them a little longer, they came too dense, too cakey. The Goldilocks “just right” batch came from lowering the heat a bit, which yielded fritters that were crisp and golden brown outside, with a light, airy texture inside.

Turn the fritters once or twice while frying, so they brown evenly. ZZzzzE

Step 4: Dip in orange blossom glaze. Scoop the balls out of the hot oil with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Dip them in the orange blossom glaze for several seconds and let cool slightly before eating.

Finding the right amount of orange blossom water for the glaze was another Goldilocks process for us. Too little didn’t reveal its delicately sweet, floral flavor. Too much evoked a lovely — but not so palatable — bar of soap. We found a sweet spot at about half a tablespoon.

Step 5: Sprinkle with finely chopped pistachios. Optional, but the chopped green nuts offer a nice contrast of texture and color.

Finding just the right texture takes some tasty trial...and error. photo © Lacee Brunn

Orange blossom water, available online or in specialty grocery stores, is a worthy addition to an international pantry. Just a few drops add a subtle sense of intrigue to desserts, fruit salads, green salads, meat dishes — even a hot bath or a facial spritz. Just keep in mind that it is made from the orange blossoms and is not interchangeable with orange extract or zest, which are made from the fruit or skin and have a very different flavor profile.

Variations of fried foods, in the form of pancakes, fritters, and funnel cakes, abound in Jewish communities around the world on Hanukkah. In the Caribbean, you might find tostones (deep-fried green plantains) or plátanos (fried ripe plantains). Iraqi Jews enjoy zangoula (funnel cakes drizzled with lemon syrup), also known as jalabi among Jewish communities in India. Sfenj (donuts topped with sugar or honey) are a popular Hanukkah treat in Morocco and North Africa. Buñuelos (deep-fried sweet pastries sprinkled with sugar, filled with jelly, or topped with syrup), while not specifically a Hanukkah food, are popular throughout the Spanish-speaking world and believed to trace back to Jewish exiles of the Spanish Inquisition. Even New Mexico’s beloved sopapilla may share Spanish pedigree with sufganiyot, another example of how foods converge and adapt on routes of trade and migration.

Hanukkah floats a bit from year to year on the Western calendar, but this year’s timing feels particularly auspicious. The eight-day holiday begins in 2024 at sundown on December 25, and the last candles are lit on January 1. This little quirk of the calendar brings the Jewish Festival of Lights in alignment with the Christian holy day of Christmas, and Kwanzaa, the weeklong holiday honoring African culture and heritage.

In this time of epic divisiveness and “othering,” I appreciate this cosmic reminder of the overlapping beliefs, foods, rituals, and hopes of cultures and faiths around the world.

And if a fried, sweet treat helps to ward off the evil eye, I’d like a double serving, please.

Claudette Sutton is the author of Farewell, Aleppo: My Father, My People, and their Long Journey Home and a regular contributor to the New Mexico Jewish Journal. She loves helping family stories come into the world and is available as a freelance editor or coach for your writing project. Visit her at https://www.claudettesutton.com/

Return to HOME or Table of Contents

Community Supporters of the NM Jewish Journal include:
Jewish Community Foundation of New Mexico
Congregation Albert
Jewish Community Center of Greater Albuquerque
The Institute for Tolerance Studies
Jewish Federation of El Paso and Las Cruces
Temple Beth Shalom
Congregation B'nai Israel
Shabbat with Friends: Recapturing Together the Joy of Shabbat

Single Event Announcement:
Save our Jewish Cemetery
New Mexico Jewish Historical Society

Policy Statement Acceptance of advertisements does not constitute an endorsement of the advertisers’ products, services or opinions. Likewise, while an advertiser or community supporter's ad may indicate their support for the publication's mission, that does not constitute their endorsement of the publication's content.