The Bialy Eaters

Rating:
Summary: It's not about the roll
Review: Sheraton comes out with two statements that are on the surface contradictory: the best bialys (and the customs used to eat them) were from Bialystok, but the bialys she most enjoys are from the places she is most familiar (ie, Kossar's). For instance, even though every Bialystoker she encounters states that you absolutely do not split the roll open, she states that she still continues to do this because she finds it awkward not to. Fair enough. However, other variations of the bialy, such as the amount of onion used and the generosity of poppy seeds on top, she seems to feel are intolerable. And that's fine, too, because what she is really saying- and what just about everyone she interviews is saying- is that the bialy you love best is the bialy you grew up with. When all is said and done, it isn't about the specific recipe or food as much as it is about the past. The food you grew up with is one of the strongest links to your past. This is what Sheraton is really writing about; when the Bialystokers talk about how much they miss the bialy they grew up with and how inferior the modern versions are, what they are really mourning is the loss of the home they lived in. That the exact method of producing the bialy has been lost is just one more testament to the world that was destroyed in the Holocaust.

My mother went to visit my sister in New York recently, and I asked her to bring back some bialys. Surely the bialys in New York would be better than the bialys I eat here in Boston. Not even close. My bialy has definite merits over its New York counterpart (abundant onions and poppyseeds, huge and fat, not flat), but it wasn't simply that. My bialys are the ones I've grown accustomed to eating and remind me of the neighborhood I buy them in and the people I eat them with. I cannot imagine losing all of that, and every passage of this book that spoke about those losses brought tears to my eyes.

Read this book and fall in love with an old bread and a lost world.

Rating:
Summary: Bialys, bialys, bialys!
Review: There were a few things I really enjoyed about this book, as I found it both educational and enlightening when it discussed the various Jewish communities around the world, particularly in France and Argentina, as well as how completely devoid of Jews Bialystok has become. Her discussions about food and how they can trigger such powerful childhood memories were also insightful and thought provoking. However, the real jewels of this book were the conversations and letters with ex-Bialystokers, some of which could bring you to tears. Their memories of what once was bring home just how much was lost by the destruction of Jewish Eastern Europe by the Nazis and completed by the Communists, on a very personal, individual basis.

Now for the problems. As someone else mentioned, Sheraton did not visit any overseas locations until an expenses paid business trip provided her with the opportunity. I didn't find this so unusual, as traveling the world can be quite expensive. However, I found her not traveling to Australia since no one would pay for it to be more than a little strange, considering she was doing research for a book like this. However, it made for a better read in the end, as she spared us what I found were her often times tedious descriptions and asides of the places she visited and people she met. There were also paragraphs where she would be talking about one thing one minute, such as quoting one of her respondents and then abruptly change the subject, which oftentimes made for a jarring read. While her style of writing may work in magazine articles, it often failed to keep my attention and it was often marred by some awkward sentence structure, especially in her attempts at flowery prose.

Lastly, since the decision was made to include pictures in the book, I could have done with less description and more visuals, especially when it came to taking pictures of modern day Bialystok, as well as other cities and people she met and visited. And the pictures she did take, such as that of Bialys, were poorly taken, with no actual close-ups of the food itself, which there really should have been more of.

So while The Bialy Eaters may be an interesting and often educational personal exploration of a wonderful food (I'm particularly obsessed with Kossars' bialys) and a world that no longer exists, I expected so much more. But what is there is certainly worth reading, especially if you've ever eaten and loved a bialy.