Yonah Schimmels
By Adina Bernstein
I’ve been obsessed with my immigrant ancestors since I was a child. My first memory is dressing up like an early 20th-century immigrant for a history assignment in elementary school. As an adult, I’ve become my family’s unofficial resident genealogist. When I walk through certain neighborhoods in lower Manhattan, I wonder how my forebears might respond to how New York City has changed.
As I enter through the doors at Yonah Schimmels Knish Bakery on the Lower East Side, it makes me feel like I am entering a time machine. In the back of my mind, I can hear the footsteps of previous generations. When I sit down and take the first heavenly bite of the knish, I can feel their presence around me. I am the descendant of Jews who once lived in Russia, Poland, and Lithuania. As many immigrants did (and still do), they fled their home countries for the “goldene medina”.
Like many third- and fourth-generation Americans, I grew up with my grandparents' stories. During meals (because we are Jews), they would tell me about their parents and grandparents. On my father’s side, his mother was the youngest of eight children and the only one of her siblings born in America. After her parents died, she moved in with her older sister, who was already married with children.
On my mother’s side, her maternal grandparents were both born in Dobromil, Poland (now Ukraine) around the turn of the 20th century. My great-grandfather came to the US by himself as a young man. My great-grandmother emigrated with her family a few years before that. I never knew her; she passed away when my mother was a young girl. He died when I was a toddler. Those above a certain age on that branch of my family tree all received copies of his memoir.
I’m the first person to admit that I am mostly a stranger in the kitchen. Chef Mike (rowave) does most of the cooking for me. If a dish is more complicated, it is usually takeout, leftovers, or TV dinners. If I am at my parent's house and acting as sous chef, I can follow a basic recipe when the directions are in front of me. But I have yet to turn into Martha Stewart and probably never will.
There are several famous Jewish restaurants in New York City: 2nd Ave Deli, Russ and Daughters, Katz’s Delicatessen, etc. All of them take me back to my childhood and the food/recipes that have been passed down. But Yonah Schimmels tops them all. It’s not just because it has been in the same location for over a century. Or that the menu has remained largely unchanged since 1910.
What makes Yonah Schimmels for me is that their knishes are not the square factory-made kind. If I wanted those, I could easily go into a grocery store and buy the store brand. YS’s food is fresh out of the oven, each knish is imperfect in its unique way. One piece might be cooked a bit more, another might have the filling sticking out of the top. It is that homemade quality, looking like it came out of grandma’s kitchen that makes it so wonderful.
Food is more than physical nourishment. It is a connection to family, history, and the traditions that have been passed from parent to child over time. For those of us in the present, it is a reminder of the past and the importance of preserving what was.
Adina Bernstein is a Brooklyn-born writer who "writes because I cannot help it”. Writing helps her find sanity in an insane world. She can be found online at writergurlny.wordpress.com
