Making Pit'cha - Calf's Feet Jelly

Pit'cha, or "sulze," is calf's feet jelly. CK was encouraging eating gelatine products. Most commercial gelatine is not kosher. But old style gelatin is calf's feet jelly. On the internet I found a few recipes, but they were for sweet calf's feet jelly, made with flavorings like cinnamon. There wasn't much in the way of context. I remembered my uncle serving it to a relative in his deli on the lower east side, back in the '60s (Mark's on Grand St.).

Mom found a great recipe in Jewish Cookery by Leah H. Leonard. By "great," I mean it was simple. All you had to do was simmer it, skim it, simmer and skim again for a total of about 4 hours. Unfortunately, I only rallied energy-wise after MyMan and MyKid were home. The house was rapidly flooded with the dull, meaty odor. Surprise! MyKid who is 10 loudly expressed disgust over the odor. Can I blame him?

As mentioned MyMan was silent. He understands or at least respects the mysterious ways of women.

The exhaust was implemented, the door to the backyard & fresh air was flung open and simmering continued. MyKid forgot the smell once confronted with the mysteries of math homework. I also set a chicken soup up to boil, and in a burst of culinary experimentation, 2 pizzas (with store-bought dough) were put in a 500 degree oven. I thought my oven was going to burst into flames from all the activity. MyKid also helped by grating the cheese (gotta give him his props!)

Simmering ended after MyKid was in bed and MyMan repaired to well-deserved slumberland. By 9:30, it was time to remove the 3 little feet from the oniony, peppery water and cut away the softened gristle.

I recently read some materials from Hazon(see Hazon.org) and was touched by descriptions of butchering meat that "honored the animal." The phrase came back to me as I gently cut away the now-softened gristle and cut it into dice, per the recipe. If we are going to slaughter little calves, let us not waste anything. Let us use everything. Let their sacrifice be totally used. No waste, no killing just for a part, but for all of the animal. Maybe it's the heightened state from the prednisone, but I also felt in touch with my ancestors, who wasted nothing, ate well, and lived long.

(In truth, if I may wander off topic for a moment, I am sitting at the computer that rests on an Empire-style oval wood table that my grandfather rescued from the trash and put on wheels, probably during the 1930s, so we may be aware of this belief system every day.)

And so I made pit'cha, put it in a bowl, cleaned up and watched Conan O'Brien for the first time ever (and laughed), and finally went to bed.