A Reflection on Culinary Identity in the Jewish Diaspora

My earliest memories of being Jewish revolve around food. I remember snacking on my grandma’s crispy, oniony latkes while playing dreidel during Hanukkah. I remember filling up on round, braided challah because I was too picky to try the saucy brisket at Rosh Hashanah. And I remember sinking my teeth into chewy bagels with a bunch of cranky adults who had fasted all day on Yom Kippur.

As I grew older, I became aware of the other aspects of being Jewish — the religion, the history, the myriad politics — which have evoked difficult questions about my personal beliefs that I’m still working to answer. But I’ve always felt connected to the culture of being Jewish, which (as my childhood memories suggest) is all about food. At least that’s the case in the New York area, where my family has been slurping matzo ball soup since arriving from Eastern Europe in the 20th century.

I learned that food is equally important in other parts of the Jewish diaspora when I visited Montreal for the first time last year. Though I’m always embarrassed to look like a tourist while traveling, I couldn’t resist booking two spots in the Beyond the Bagel Food Tour, which is operated by the Museum of Jewish Montreal. The website promised “classics like smoked meat and bagels,” as well as “nearly forgotten delicacies,” so I was sold.

On a sunny Sunday morning, my husband and I met a handful of fellow tourists in front of the Rialto Theatre in Mile End. This neighborhood, our guide explained, was the settling place for many Ashkenazi Jews who moved to Montreal from Eastern Europe in the 20th century — during the same waves of emigration that included my own ancestors. Though these Jewish people brought the same dishes from the old country to their new homes, distinct culinary identities developed in the U.S. and Canada as a result.

The differences were apparent on our first stop, a heimishe bakery called Boulangerie Cheskie, where we were introduced to two items I’d never seen in New York. I adored the cheese crown, a thick, firm pastry filled with sweet cheese that turned into a delightful paste in my mouth. Since I don’t like chocolate (sacrilegious, I know), my husband happily devoured both of our portions of kokosh, a chocolate-filled roll that’s a cross between babka and strudel.

Next, we checked out the city’s most famous, rivalrous bagel shops, St-Viateur and Fairmount. Both serve bagels that are boiled in honey water, making them much sweeter than their New York counterparts. They’re also denser and feature a bigger hole in the middle, which caused me to ponder their ability to support my favorite accoutrements, egg and cheese. But we only tried them unaccompanied, untoasted, topped with sesame seeds — the go-to flavor in Canada. They were totally pleasant, but I prefer the fluffier, more savory variety I was raised on

Had it not been closed, we would’ve popped into Wilensky’s Light Lunch and sampled the special grilled sandwich: all-beef salami and all-beef balogna with a swipe of mustard on a roll. I probably would’ve liked the cured meat combo, but I wasn’t bummed to miss it once we arrived at our penultimate stop: Hof Kelsten. The contemporary Jewish bakery is the brainchild of Jeffrey Finkelstein, who’s equally skilled at crafting sourdough bread, strawberry rugelach, and flaky croissants.

Everyone else in the group tasted Finkelstein’s chocolate babka, but I went for his everything-seasoned bretzel. The pastry combined familiar Jewish flavors with French lamination techniques, offering a glimpse of the way our culinary traditions are being ushered into modern times with creativity and multicultural influences in Montreal. It reminded me of Zoë Kanan and Jeremy Salamon, who are making similar strides in New York.

Finally, the tour concluded with smoked meat sandwiches from Schwartz’s, Montreal’s equivalent to Katz’s Deli, with the line around the block to match. Much like the corned beef and pastrami that have fed the masses in Manhattan for over a century, the smoked meat was tender and salty, served between slices of rye bread. And while I can’t say whether I’m partial to the American or Canadian version in this case — they’re too tasty to choose — I’m comforted to know that all these Jewish foods exist as part of the culture I claim as my own.

Beyond the Bagel Food Tour is offered on Tuesdays and Friday to Sunday, excluding holidays, from 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Ticket prices range from $45 to $95 based on age.