In a move that shall go down in history as one of the top boss moves ever by an uncle, David went to Israel, made his way to King George street in Tel-Aviv, entered the famous Weiss Bakery, and brought one of their legendary poppy seed (mohn) strudels for me.
The wax paper that carefully protected the merchandise.
The strudel was carefully packed in his luggage and flown to Mexico where it sat in a freezer until my latest visit, at which point I carefully packed it in my luggage and brought it to Austin, TX.
After the long and tortous travel, I was able to finally bask myself in all its black glory with its extreme filling to bread ratio.
Yes, it was all worth it. No, I should not do a drug test right now.
Thank you so much, Davico! You made me very happy.
I just landed in my hometown of Monterrey, Mexico to a giant surprise: homemade mohn strudel baked by none other than Olga. I immediately proceeded to eat a lot of it.
The bread is on the thinner side. The filling not overly sweet – just the way I like it. A bit crumbly. What a delicious surprise! Thank you.
My mother-in-law Nira just got back from Hungary, and she was kind enough to bring me some mohn love from The First Strudel House. And on her birthday of all days!
Just the thinnest crust… barely enough to keep the filling together.
Mohn strudel is not super common in these parts. And compared to the few in the area, this one had by far a much much higher filling-to-bread ratio. I remind readers that this is one of, if not the most important objective metrics when it comes to evaluating these things. The filling was also on the less sweeter side, which is a good thing when each delicious bite packs so much of it.
Is the box handmade? Or the strudel? Or both?
I hope this post serves both as a thank you note and as encouragement for others to bring me similar gifts.
I don’t like jelly hamantashen (Yidish המן־טאַשן; in Hebrew Oznei-Haman / אוזני המן). Those are for sissies. But everywhere you go, that’s the only flavor!
What I really really really like, and this should not come as a surprise to long time readers, are the mohn aka poppy seed ones. It was time for me to take matters into my own inept cooking hands! And I capture it here for all posterity and because I sort of made it up as I went but want to remember some details for next year.
My beautiful and tasty hamantashen. Black is poppy seed, brown is Nutella. The ugly and tasty ones not depicted.
To make the poppy seed filling: Grind a bunch of poppy seed in a coffee grinder until you think it’s enough. Melt a bunch of butter (I did like half a bar) in the microwave. Then add the poppy seed. Finally add sugar. How much? If you are not an experienced baker, then imagine an amount that sounds like a crap load. Add twice as much. Mix it until you have a paste.
To make the dough: Take out the pre-made pie crust, unroll it, use a cup to make circular cutouts. Roll the remaining dough then make more holes. Repeat until you have no more dough.
To make the cookies: This is the hardest part. Using a teaspoon, put a bit of filling in the middle of each circle. Fight your instincts to add lots of poppy seed because you love it: it it makes the things behave like Shrinky Dinks when in the oven. Fold it into a triangle, leaving a little window to showcase the black gold. Make sure to squeeze the corners real tight or more Shrinky Dinks! And don’t forget to make a few with the Nutella for your snotty little kids who should know better. Use a brush to cover the hamantashen with egg so they come out nice and shiny.
The chef in action.
Bake Put the hamantashen on a tray on top of parchment paper. Or don’t use the paper. I don’t know. But I did and it worked out. Bake at 400 ℉ for about 10 minutes. I highly recommend waiting for them to cool down before eating.
Make sure to not over do it with the filling and squeeze those corners tight or your hamantashen will blossom in unexpected ways.
