A Jewish Food Journey: Discovering My Family Roots

Learn how to take a Jewish food journey into the past to uncover your heritage and the history of a family.

While encouraging others to explore their culinary heritage, I (Sarah) have been inspired to learn more about my own! Here’s a glimpse into my journey.

After over a year of sharing other people’s culinary heritage stories, I realized I didn’t know much about my own. Researching my culinary heritage was something I’d always wanted to do, and I finally decided to dive in head first. After all, why shouldn’t I practice what I’ve been preaching?

I decided to start with my heritage on my dad’s side since I knew the least about it. My paternal ancestors were Ashkenazi Jews from Lithuania (Litvaks). Unfortunately, any food traditions they brought to the United States have been lost over the past few generations. My dad’s parents didn’t cook much, and I wasn’t raised in a Jewish household.

With so few direct leads, it made the most sense for me to start from scratch. Fortunately, I love a good challenge. With some creativity, a lot of caffeine, and a little bit of luck, I’ve already made some valuable discoveries about my roots and the importance of tapping into one’s culinary heritage. As you can probably imagine, it’s been quite the journey so far…

Hitting the Books

My instincts and academic research training told me I should start by reviewing some literature. I headed to my nearest library and quickly discovered two things:

1. There are a lot of books about Jewish food… like, A LOT.
2. There are NOT a lot of books about Lithuanian food.

To make things easier on myself, I decided to expand my focus to Ashkenazi Jewish food in general. There are slight differences between countries, but they all share a common foundation.

As luck would have it, I actually did find a single book on Lithuanian Jewish food: The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook by Fania Lewando. It’s not just a cookbook- it’s a historical artifact. Fania Lewando ran a restaurant and taught nutrition in Vilnius until she and her husband died during World War II. Her cookbook resurfaced in the 1990s and was translated from its original Yiddish.

I also raided my own bookshelf for any books mentioning Ashkenazi Jewish food. 97 Orchard by Jane Ziegelman, an old favorite of mine, was exactly what I needed. The book traces the contributions of immigrant groups, to New York City’s food culture through the stories of five families. Rereading the Gumpertz and Rogarshevsky families’ stories gave me a better idea of how my ancestors’ culinary traditions might have evolved after they arrived in the United States. (The Rogarshevskys actually came from Lithuania, so I felt especially connected to that chapter.)

Class Is in Session

I was really excited about everything I was learning in books and online, but I was still finding way more information than I could process. I was in desperate need of some structure and organization. Enter: the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research. As soon as I discovered their free e-course on Ashkenazi Jewish foodways, my research game totally changed. Every weekend, for seven weeks, I posted up in one of my favorite coffee shops to complete a unit.

YIVO’s course was everything I was searching for and much more. I learned the basics, of course, like what keeping kosher entails and how to render poultry fat for schmaltz. (In case you’re wondering, no, I haven’t tried that at home yet.) The best part, though, was learning about the significance of Jewish food within greater sociopolitical contexts. By the end of the course, I had a deeper understanding of how my ancestors’ foodways would have adapted and evolved in response to scarcity, persecution, immigration, and acculturation. I learned that in many ways, Jewish food is about endurance and survival.

I’ve always had a knack for foreign languages, so this also felt like a good time to learn some Yiddish. I started working through Duolingo toward the end of YIVO’s e-course, and I’m getting better at recognizing letters and sounds. My favorite words so far are esn (to eat) and nashn (to nibble or snack).

Eating Like My Ancestors

This project wouldn’t be complete without tasting at least a few Jewish dishes. With current airfare, it’s probably going to be a while before I can travel to eastern Europe. Meanwhile, I’ve found several opportunities to learn about and enjoy Jewish food in my corner of the world.

On my weekly grocery runs, I’ve started paying more attention to the kosher section at Kroger. I started my research around Passover, so the store was prominently displaying kosher foods. After learning more about kosher laws and the commercialization of Jewish food, I better understood what was on the shelves and why. (Thanks to YIVO, I also learned that real gefilte fish is more appetizing than those jars of white blobs.)

Knoxville also got a new Jewish deli this spring (technically, more of a “dairy restaurant”). Rather than pastrami sandwiches (except on special occasions), Potchke serves up blintzes, bialys, and other dishes inspired by the chef’s Ukrainian great-grandparents. Although my ancestors came from Lithuania instead of Ukraine, eating at Potchke still makes me feel like I’m getting a literal taste of my heritage.

Through Facebook, I also stumbled upon a local Jewish food festival. Knoshville was happening on a Sunday, minutes down the road from my church, so I couldn’t not go. My lunch that day consisted of a potato knish, a poppy seed hamantasch, and sweet noodle kugel, all handmade by local congregations. I found out this year’s festival was the first since the pandemic, and I’m already looking forward to returning next year.

Lessons Learned

Exploring my culinary heritage will probably be a lifelong project, but I’ve learned a lot from my experience thus far. In fact, there are some basic principles of Jewish and eastern European foodways that I want to incorporate in my own cooking and eating.

One of the hallmarks of Jewish cooking is not wasting anything. Scraps and leftovers can always be repurposed. For environmental and economical reasons, I could definitely stand to practice this more in my kitchen. (I think I’ll start by saving vegetable trimmings and chicken bones to make my own stocks.)

There’s also a certain reverence toward food. Most days, I eat quickly and without much thought as to where my food came from. In Jewish culture, on the other hand, we see greater emphasis on how food is sourced and prepared, whether at home or in factories and restaurants. Nothing is done mindlessly or without intention. While I don’t plan to incorporate any strict laws into my routine, I do want to work toward approaching my food with more care and respect.

Most importantly, learning about Jewish foodways has reminded me of the importance of communal cooking and eating. Community and interdependence were crucial aspects of Jewish foodways in eastern Europe and for immigrants in the United States. Families ate together, neighbors shared ingredients and recipes, and celebrations centered around meals. Cooking and eating with others is good for our social health. Moving forward, I’m going to make a more conscious effort to share food with others on a regular basis.

Next Steps

“Wow, Sarah. You’ve been busy! What’s next for you?” Well, dear readers, I’m so glad you asked.

First and foremost, I want to have conversations with my family. I’ve already interviewed my dad, and it was really meaningful for both of us. I gained insight into how his family cooked and ate, and it was a big nostalgia trip for him. Having similar conversations with my grandmother and aunts will help me continue to personalize my research and learn how my family has upheld and/or adapted traditions.

I also have a growing list of recipes I want to try. Most of them come from The Gefilte Manifesto by Jeffrey Yoskowitz and Liz Alpern, who led several cooking demos for YIVO’s e-course. It’s time to tackle my fears of yeast and home fermentation for the sake of challah and pickles. Wish me luck, y’all.

As I mentioned before, a trip to eastern Europe is on hold until conditions stabilize and airfares drop. In the nearer future, I’m planning a trip to New York City to experience much of what I’ve learned about firsthand. I want to spend most of the trip exploring the Lower East Side, walking where my ancestors may have walked and eating traditional delis, bakeries, and appetizing shops.

The Big “Why”

At the end of the day, I’m not doing all this research just for myself. My hope is that this project will honor past generations while creating a legacy for future ones. Although my dad’s side of the family doesn’t have any traditional recipes to pass down, we come from a rich culinary heritage that is still worth preserving and celebrating.

If you’ve ever been the least bit curious about your culinary heritage, I have two words for you: DIG IN! Even if- especially if- you think your family’s food traditions are lost for good, you can still deepen your connection to your ancestors by learning about their foodways. You can be the one who picks up where they left off.

What stories will you tell?