Shuli Passow
By Shuli Passow
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Recipes Final CSA Psolet Challenge
The onset of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur postponed the publication of my final CSA Psolet Challenge column, but the delay has actually given me a chance to reflect on this experience in light of the upcoming Sukkot holiday. In his epic code of Jewish law called the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides, the 12th century Jewish…
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Recipes CSA Psolet Challenge: The End
At the local farmer’s market, I’ve often been intimidated by some of the most beautiful produce on offer during the summer months: the varieties of shelling beans and peas that arrive in unusual colors and shapes. While I’ve admired these beans for their beauty, I’ve never been quite sure of what to do with them…and…
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Food CSA Psolet Challenge: Week Three
In my earlier CSA Psolet Challenge posts, I committed myself to trying new recipes—specifically pesto—as part of my effort to be waste-free this month. My relationship to all this pesto-making turned out to be a mixed bag: I enjoyed eating pesto on pasta. I enjoyed creating a simple yet elevated dinner by spreading pesto on…
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Food The CSA Psolet Challenge: Week Two
If last week was about confronting my CSA enemy, this week was all about reuniting with a good CSA friend: beets. It took me a while for my love affair with beets to ignite, but when it did, I never looked back. In addition to being gorgeous and delicious, nutritionally speaking, beets have it all:…
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Recipes The CSA Psolet Challenge: Week One
Frisée! My CSA nemesis. What to do with this morass of spindly, bitter leaves that poke wildly in my mouth? The word frisée means ‘curly’ in French, and a head of this green indeed resembles a Medusa-like afro on the most humid of days. I’ve never bought frisée on my own accord, having experienced it…
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Food The CSA Psolet Challenge
Each day I go to breakfast Put oatmeal in my bowl Fill up my glass with O.J. Eat half my jelly roll I can’t believe I took more than I ate That’s why I have so much psolet on my plate… Some readers of this blog may recognize these words as the lyrics to the…
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Food Crying Over Spoilt Onions
It was the pile of onions that made me cry. Not in the way you might think—I wasn’t standing over a cutting board, knife in hand, sobbing my way through an extended dicing activity. The onions that made me cry were whole, bagged and stacked about 5 feet high, in a small village in Western…
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