Putintaschen for Purim 2022

Renaming a favorite holiday cookie for a new villain

A plate of hamantaschen—or putintaschen, if you prefer.

This year Putin is the new Haman. I’m renaming hamantaschen, everyone’s favorite Purim cookies, for him. They’re now called putintaschen. May he meet the same fate as the villain in the original story. Please read on.

Purim celebrates the clear-cut triumph of good over evil—a time-honored tradition among Jewish holidays. The story goes (and some say it’s just that, a story) that in Persia during the fifth century B.C.E., an enemy of the Jews, Haman, aims to wipe out the entire people. Queen Esther, married to the king, Ahasuerus, saves her people with the help of her Uncle Mordecai, and Haman is hanged on the gallows he built for Mordecai.

Considered one of the minor Jewish holidays, the festival begins this week on Wednesday evening, March 16, and continues through the next day. It includes two readings of the Book of Esther, with the name Haman drowned out by noisemakers—usually wielded by excited children costumed as the characters in the story—every time it is read.

Scroll of Esther (Google Art Project, Free Media Repository, via Wikipedia)

Among Eastern European—Ashkenazi—Jews, a favorite Purim treat is the triangular cookie called a hamantasch (the plural in Yiddish is hamantaschen), which literally means “Haman’s pocket,” named for the villain in the story. When we were small, we were told the cookie represented Haman’s hat. Israelis call the cookies oznei Haman, or Haman’s ears. This year, with Russian despot Vladimir Putin dominating the headlines as the world’s cruelest new bad guy, apparently aiming to annihilate and/or subjugate the brave people of Ukraine, renaming the cookies putintaschen seems almost too complimentary—they’re delicious. He certainly isn’t. But the cookies get demolished rather quickly. We can only hope for the same end for the wannabe Russian czar.

Poppies and Prunes

My mother’s preferred hamantaschen filling was prune and nut, but another very traditional filling is made with poppy seeds. Poppy seeds, as fellow Substack writer Anne Byrn notes in a recent post on her wonderful blog, Between the Layers, are a popular and traditional ingredient in Ukrainian baking and make all the difference in a delectable lemon-scented poppyseed cake that Mollie Katzen wrote about in her 1974 classic, The Moosewood Cookbook.

The word hamantaschen very likely derives from a play on words on a triangular poppy seed-filled pastry called Mohntaschen—literally poppy seed pockets—popular in Germany and Eastern Europe in the 19th century. Mohn transformed into Haman, according to this story.

Kitten with poppy seed hamantasch “hat” (Painting by my daughter-in-law, Nagisa Kamae)

Last year, just as the coronavirus epidemic was entering its second year, I shared some memories and recipes of Purim. Below, I include some of that post. The recipes and the memories haven’t changed, although there are always new possibilities for hamantaschen creativity. My friend Ellen Kubo recently tried out Smitten Kitchen’s marbled cheesecake version and thought they were a fine variation, though a lot of work.

Paula Shoyer in The Kosher Baker said she wasn’t a fan of traditional hamantaschen growing up and came up with a way to make them more “sexy” using food coloring, sprinkles and different flavorings to alter the dough and unexpected fillings such as lemon curd and peanut butter.

I’m a bit old-fashioned, preferring the classics I grew up with—apricot, prune and poppy, with the occasional Nutella or apple-raisin variation thrown in. I prefer to make my own fillings, but my friend Judy Bonn-Smith swears by Solo brand. Her favorites: poppy seed, apricot, cherry and raspberry. Her daughter Lindy loves filling hers with chocolate chips, something she remembers doing as a little girl.

What are your favorite hamantaschen fillings? I’d love to know.

For me, making hamantaschen with my mother is a distinct and happy memory. She would cut the sheets of yellow dough into circles with a drinking glass, filling the centers with teaspoons of prune-walnut filling. She showed me how to turn the circles into plump little triangles—pushing two sides together at the top to form a point, then turning the bottom up to form a triangle, pinching the corners just enough to leave a small opening in the middle, so you would know what was inside the cookie!

Cookies with prune, poppy and apricot fillings, awaiting triangulation.

There are other variations on how to shape the cookies into the requisite three-corner shape without having the cookies open up or erupt like mini volcanoes in the oven. On her blog, Tori Avey gives an excellent step-by-step description of how to fold the cookies in a sort of triangular pouch that remains intact while baking.

Using the “pinch” method that my mother taught me.

For the dough, I used a recipe I found in one of my favorite Jewish cookbooks, Joan Nathan's The Jewish Holiday Kitchen. It’s a simple butter cookie dough that you can make in a mixer, food processor or, if you wish, by hand. I made three fillings, prune-walnut in memory of my mother (you can find the recipe below), apricot (link here), and poppy seed (link here).

Apricot filling—basically cooked dried apricots, sugar, water, and juice, mashed or blended to the consistency you prefer.

Jams or preserves that you may already have on hand, such as raspberry, cherry and strawberry, also make good fillings, though sometimes they’re a little thin and tend to bubble out of the cookies when they’re baking. One way around that is to cook them briefly on low to remove some of the liquid; they’ll thicken as they cool.

A variation that’s perfect for the chocolate lover in your life (my husband Jeff, for example) doubles the cacao pleasure with both chocolate dough and filling. You can find a link to the recipe here. I made it for Valentine’s Day in 2021.

Valentine’s Day hamantaschen variation, with chocolate dough and filling.

Purim is a joyous holiday, but lately our world has been full of so much sadness, loss and anxiety, it’s enough to make you wonder how anyone can laugh and celebrate at a time like this. We’re finally emerging from lockdown, yet thousands of miles away a fledgling democracy is under threat, with millions fleeing for their lives, while a madman orchestrates a senseless war against innocents.

And yet, Purim is a story of despair turned to hope, in which a people condemned to death turn the tables. We can only hope for the same in the case of Ukraine and for all those who struggle against extreme odds—and survive to find a better, brighter future. Meanwhile, we can give to causes that help those who are suffering, such as chef Jose Andres’ humanitarian nonprofit, World Central Kitchen, which is serving meals to needy people in Ukraine, Poland, Romania, Moldova and Hungary. Hamantashen for Ukraine, an international bake sale relief effort that cookbook author and blogger Dorie Greenspan mentions in her latest post, is another excellent choice for those who want to help.

But meanwhile, to comfort ourselves, let’s bake some hamantaschen for those we love.

Hamantaschen Dough

Makes enough for 24 to 36 cookies

(Adapted from Joan Nathan's The Jewish Holiday Kitchen)

Ingredients:

2/3 cup unsalted butter (or pareve shortening), softened

1/2 cup sugar

1 large egg

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

2 1/2-3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

Grated zest of 1 small orange (optional)

1 egg, beaten, mixed with 1 teaspoon of water (optional—for brushing cookies before putting them in oven)

Directions:

1. Cream the butter and sugar in the large bowl of a mixer, in a food processor or by hand.

2. Add the egg, vanilla and the orange zest, if using. Continue mixing until the batter is smooth.

3. Sift 2 1/2 cups of the flour, the baking powder and salt into a small bowl. Save the remaining half cup to add to sprinkle on the board and/or dough if needed when you roll it out later.

4. Add the flour to the butter mixture, mixing or pulsing until a ball of dough is formed. Try to avoid over-mixing as it will create a tough dough. You may find the dough holds together perfectly and you still have some leftover flour. That’s fine as you can always add more if necessary when you roll out the dough.

5. Split the dough into three or four balls, wrapping each in plastic wrap. Refrigerate 3-4 hours or overnight.

6. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Cover a cookie sheet with parchment or grease it lightly with butter or a spritz of oil.

7. Take a packet of dough (you should remove it from the fridge at least 10 to 15 minutes ahead of time to let it soften) and roll out to the thickness of about 1/8 inch (you just have to guess at this!) on a lightly floured board. You can also use a piece of plastic on top to help avoid sticking and to keep from adding too much flour. Sometimes, I also put plastic under the dough as well. Cut the dough into 2 1/2- to 3-inch circles (I use a floured glass that is just shy of 3 inches in diameter).

8. Fill the circles of dough with about 1 teaspoon of filling (better too little than too much!). Then, using your two forefingers, push the top two thirds of the cookie toward the center. Fold up the bottom third upward with your two thumbs, and press lightly together, leaving some of the filling showing in the center. Lightly pinch the three seams together, but make sure that they’re well stuck together or they’ll open in the oven.

9. If you wish, lightly brush the cookies with a beaten egg, thinned with water, before putting them in the oven. Bake for 10-15 minutes until lightly browned, flipping the tray halfway through to make sure they’re browning evenly. Transfer to a cooling rack.

Hamantaschen made with gluten-free flour—can you tell the difference?

Prune-Walnut Filling

Ingredients:

1 cup finely chopped pitted prunes

1/4 cup raisins, soaked in 1/4 cup juice, sweet wine or water

1 cup water (or more if needed)

1 pinch salt

2-3 tablespoons lemon juice

1 teaspoon lemon zest

1/4 cup honey

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Directions:

1. Put chopped prunes into small saucepan with water and soaked raisins, including juice.

2. Boil, then simmer until soft, checking frequently to make sure the liquid hasn't boiled away. Before it does, be sure to add more water. The smell of burnt prunes is not very appetizing!

3. Add the lemon juice, zest and honey. Stir well.

4. Mash with a potato masher or use an immersion blender if you want a smoother consistency. (I didn't, and the cookies tasted just fine.) Stir in chopped walnuts. If you prefer, you can substitute other chopped nuts, such as almonds.

Thanks for the many kind words I received about my last post about my brother Michael, who died much too soon on March 2. He would have loved to stop by to sample the “putintaschen” and to rail against the violence in Ukraine. He would have been eager to donate to any cause that might make a difference. He was just that kind of guy.

See you next time.