THE FIRST JEWISH people in America came to New Mexico to flee the Spanish Inquisition. In the 19th century, as they were joined by merchants from Germany and refugees from Eastern Europe, food traditions merged in mouthwatering ways. In the Land of Enchantment, green chile is as crucial to bagels as cream cheese, and it boosts the cold-fighting properties of matzo ball soup. And at Hanukkah, it’s a spicy topping for latkes.
I usually make my latkes after Chanukah on the Plaza, hosted by the Santa Fe Jewish Center on the first Sunday of the Festival of Lights. It’s often foot-stompingly cold as people dance the hora, sing songs, and, invariably, explain what’s happening to visitors attracted to the spectacle. The public party features the lighting of a giant chile-themed menorah—and the main event, latkes.
Flavored with onion and fried in oil, the humble potato latke represents the miracle of oil that burned for eight days in 164 BC, when the Maccabees rebuilt their temple in Jerusalem. Every Hanukkah, Jewish people prepare platters of them, both for their symbolism and because they are delicious. I helped my grandmother make our Ashkenazi version in her Chicago kitchen and took up the task myself when I moved to New Mexico in the mid-1990s.
At home, my husband and I light the menorah and say the blessing. Then we set matzo balls to simmer, put noodle kugel in the oven, and grate potatoes, usually bickering over who must deal with the onion. Latke-making is communal, and recipes vary by region, ethnicity, and family. The first one out of the pan, topped with a sprinkle of salt, transports me through space and time.
Latkes are typically topped with applesauce and sour cream. But I make them my own with New Mexico heat: roasted and chopped Hatch green chile. My husband adds red to his, too, making them “Christmas latkes.” I often make green chile applesauce, too, which can be chilled overnight or served hot, like syrup. No matter how you top them, the point is to make and eat lots of latkes, and to share them with family and friends.
- 4–6 medium potatoes (peeled or unpeeled)
- 1 large yellow onion
- Salt and pepper
- 3 eggs
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour or potato starch
- Extra-virgin olive oil
- Optional garnishes: Applesauce, sour cream, green and red chile
Serves 4–6 people
- Grate potatoes and onion into a large bowl, then transfer to another bowl by the handful, squeezing out as much moisture as possible. Season with salt and pepper.
- Whisk eggs in a separate bowl, pour over potato and onion, and mix with your hands. Sprinkle with 2–3 tablespoons of flour and mix with your hands.
- Heat a half inch of olive oil in a nonstick frying pan on medium-high heat. Test temperature by tossing in a potato shred; it’s ready when you get a good sizzle.
- Use two spoons to shape small pancakes and place in pan; cook in batches, turning semifrequently, until golden brown on both sides. Drain on paper towels.
- Sprinkle with kosher salt. Top with applesauce, sour cream, green and/or red chile, and serve.
This is a very rustic, adaptable recipe. Don’t let it burn or dry out, and it will be perfect. For extra chunky applesauce, leave apples unpeeled. Good hot or chilled.
- 3 large apples, peeled and chopped (Braeburn or Honeycrisp work best)
- ½ cup water
- Pinch of salt
- Small piece of lemon rind
- 1 can chopped Hatch green chile (or equivalent amount of fresh-roasted)
- Brown sugar or honey to taste (optional)
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Put apples, water, salt, and lemon rind in medium saucepan on medium-low; cover and let heat build for about 10 minutes until apples have begun to soften, stirring occasionally.
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Mash apples with potato masher and add green chile. Cover; remash in a few minutes.
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Add sugar or honey to taste, increase temperature a little, and let flavors continue to meld, 5–10 minutes, stirring frequently until you like the way it tastes. Remove lemon rind to serve.