The Latke Lady

Our family’s passed-down recipe for potato pancakes is as precious as any antique

- REBECCA ANGEL BAER

WHEN THE AIR outside begins to nip and the neighborhood is all adorned in twinkle lights and strands of garland, my childhood home fills with the smell of oil and crisping potatoes as my mother, Emily Angel Baer, transforms into the Latke Lady. I come from a very big family in Memphis; we spend the eight days of Hanukkah celebrating with different groups of people each night. While these get-togethers take place in the homes of various cousins, aunts, uncles, and friends, the one constant is my mom’s potato latkes. She brings them to every gathering because no one makes them better.

Tradition is important in the Jewish faith. Many of the ways we celebrate holidays aren't mandated in the Torah; they are rituals passed down through generations, like making latkes. We eat them on Hanukkah as a nod to the oil that should have lit the temple for only one day but instead lasted eight miraculous nights.

My family’s latkes can be traced back decades to Russia. My great-grandmother, Tamara Tiba Malkin, made them with a version of the recipe shown below, and when my mother was a child, Tamara Tiba turned the responsibility over to her eldest daughters. My great-aunt Mary, whom I remember fondly as a real spitfire, passed the recipe on to my mother, who then shared it with me.