My dear fra Antonio,

Pictures are worth a thousand words. And so, I gathered a bit more from the photograph, I must confess, than the explanation. My German is not what it might be (being self-taught in the extreme and extrapolating from my minimal Yiddish)...matter of fact, it's pretty poor. Still, I gather I have been corrected and wonder if I might trouble you to provide me (and the other LTH reader who needs some assistance here ) with a translation. I'm too lazy to work the dictionary this morning.

Perhaps I ought to have written a bit more carefully. I ought to have said that, in my own experience I only know gribenes as a Jewish "dish" and, in that context, solely as an item to be found in schmaltz. It simply hadn't occurred to me, lazy mind that I am, that it might be found elsewhere.



tusen tak!

As a kid, my grandmother always made gribbenes around the "holidays" as a by-product of her rendering her own schmaltz. Several bowls of this wonderful bounty were always in the kitchen at her house, and as she cooked everyone would grab a handful. There is probably a direct correlation between this and the fact that the greater percentage of my direct male relatives were inhabitants of Westlawn long before their sixtieth birthdays. When I first got hitched to the lovely Mrs. LTE, I tried to explain the wonder (and tragedy) of gribbenes since her family had long ago banished any connection to the "old country". She was thoroughly disgusted by the description, so, firmly believing in the adage that a picture is worth a thousand words, I set off to whip up a batch as quickly as possible. First came visits to every butcher I could think of to beg, borrow, or pay for as much chicken skin they could round up. Then, home for the slow process of frying the skin and attached fat with onions until all was reduced to a crunchy pile of "cracklins' which were doused with a modicum of kosher salt. It was as if I had produced the finest batch of crystal meth to be had this side of the Pecos. She was completely hooked...as my kids were in later years. News of what I had done spread to my friends, who had memories of their Bubbes quieting them with this exact same treat, and for the past almost thirty years I have been supplying them with this forebidden fruit. No holiday is complete without me totally funking up the entire house with the smell of what I like to refer to as "cardiologists delight", and with the phone calls asking if once again I'm going to be a gribbenes enabler....

Gypsy Boy wrote: My German is not what it might be (being self-taught in the extreme and extrapolating from my minimal Yiddish)...matter of fact, it's pretty poor. Still, I gather I have been corrected and wonder if I might trouble you to provide me (and the other LTH reader who needs some assistance here ) with a translation. I'm too lazy to work the dictionary this morning.

GB, Here's a handy tool that's useful for when A launches into German and doppelte Holländer: babelfish
Actually, here's another though babelfish has a slight edge (most times).

Gypsy Boy wrote:Although I concur with the explanation, in point of fact I have never seen or heard of gribenes (double 'b' spelling typical of Galitzianer heritage, no doubt ) outside the context of schmaltz. You find gribenes in schmaltz; although--in theory--one might find them elsewhere, I have never heard of reality confirming that particular theory.

I think "gribenes" would be the YIVO transliteration, but romanization of Yiddish is subject to wide variation (there are several academic systems as well as unlimited ad hoc versions). The double-B spelling seems somewhat closer to the three-syllable pronunciation -- GRIB-beh-niss -- you mostly hear. You might also hear these cracklings called "grieven" (GREE-vin).

They can be made of chicken, goose or duck, although chicken is, obviously, by far the most common.

They are commonly used as a flavoring and textural addition to recipes. My bubbe used to hide them in the back of the freezer to keep us from nibbling them all straight (or on rye bread) before she could could mix them into her chopped liver. We also put them on baked potatoes. Some people put them in matzo balls, knishes and kugels. In the South, I've heard, Jewish cooks mix gribenes into collard greens.

I grant you, all of these are dishes that would have had schmaltz mixed in as well, but the gribenes would be strained from the schmaltz when made and thereafter handled separately.

Gypsy Boy wrote:Pictures are worth a thousand words.

GB,

Another two thousand words for you.

Sun Wah (4.17.07)



Enjoy,
Gary

Sun Wah
1134 W Argyle St
Chicago, IL 60640
773-769-1254

We also put them on baked potatoes. Some people put them in matzo balls, knishes and kugels. In the South, I've heard, Jewish cooks mix gribenes into collard greens.

But best of all, as long as they're still hot and greasy, between two slices of Wonder Bread (altho this may be nostalgia working its wonders for me).

Did Portillo's defame fried chicken skins as well?

saps wrote:Did Portillo's defame fried chicken skins as well?

And to complete the circle, I finally tried the new and improved Portiilo's Maxwell Street Polish today. It is quite different from what they served before.

A longer piece of sausage cut from a big link, rather than a fat and juicy single sausage, more charred, same grilled onions. The french bread was not bad, either. (The young lady who called me asshole did detract from the experience, but that is another story, and not really Portillo's fault. I trust she will not do this again, though, since I strongly urged her not to.)

Verdict:

Not a Maxwell Street polish, in any way except the onions.

Not a bad sandwich, and a decent deal, but mislabeled.

And some people are funny.

stevez wrote:Today, they completely insulted me and every Chicagoan by serving a "Maxwell Street Polish" (grilled polish, grilled onions, sport peppers and mustard) on a piece of Gonnella bread, not a poppy seed bun. What the F**K is up with that? They are giving tens of thousands of tourists the wrong idea of what this Chicago classic is supposed to be...not to mention throwing off the taste/texture profile of the sandwich. It's just shameful.

FWIW, The Portillo's in Crestwood has a sign posted saying they have switched back to the poppy seeded bun.

Another data point: A guy a gentleman at Polk and Western a few weeks back ordered his polish sausage (spicy hot dog, skinless, big city reds) on "a roll" with mustard and raw onion ("we don't have sauerkraut" "grilled onions?" "nope"), and then had chili and cheese on his fries.

One thing you have to say: he's a man who knows what he wants.

Cogito wrote:Sure, that's what I did expect, plus perhaps a couple sport peppers, pickle slice, or tomato. I just did not expect ketchup to be included. I don't know of any decent hotdog joints that include ketchup as part of "everything" without explicit instructions to do so. Jimmy's, Portillo's, Wolfy's, whatever, don't give ketchup by default. I'll admit I made an assumption that I shouldn't have made, but I probably won't do that again soon when going to an unknown place.

this only makes me laugh becuase i fell into the ketchup phobia myself. I ordered a dog with "everything" from some place in lincoln park, and when i opened it up in the car home - boom! smothered in ketchup.

So - for about a full year, i'd always specify "everything, no ketchup." 99.9% of hot dog stands will look at you like you're a jackass, like you're talking down to them. So, i dropped it. You can safely make the assumption that there will not be ketchp on your hotdog - but that one in a million chance that they do will send you into ketchup phobia for awhile.

You'll come out of it and start ordering your dogs like normal.

Hey all.....

Went to Portillos on Ontario today for a dogfest (it was that kind of day). 1 Chili Dog, 1 Regular Dog and 1 Polish. And my lovely semi charred polish was served in a small squishy poppy seed bun.

It was deeeeelightful.

I can't engage in the grilled onion discussion because I, blasphemous or not, enjoy the raw onion on my dog products. They're crunchy.

I recently went to the Portillos drive through in Addison on Lake St. with my mom to get a Maxwell street polish and they asked if we wanted it on I believe they say French bread or a bun. I could hardly believe my ears and turned to my mom puzzling....wondered if I ordered something wrong. I say of course a bun. Some how a Polish on French or Italian bread is just off the mark in my book.