Sexy New Jewish Cooking with Chef Yehuda Sichel: A Night at the Beard House

Yehuda: “How are they liking the food up there?”

Chase (PA): “It’s great! Really, everyone is lov-“

Yehuda: “Don’t lie to me, man– because we’re only 100% honest in our interviews with Penn Appetit!” 

Chef Yehuda Sichel might be a straight talker, but his take on Jewish cooking is anything but direct. The head chef at Abe Fisher started cooking at a corner deli, whetting his palette with dishes like pickled herring and broccoli kugel in his local Baltimore synagogue. Now at the newly-opened Abe Fisher in Philadelphia, Yehuda transforms Jewish dishes rich with nostalgia into upscale cuisine that leaves your soul satisfied and your tastebuds grasping at memories of that last time you sunk your teeth into a pastrami on rye.

If there’s one thing you notice about the food at Abe Fisher, it’s that time is an essential ingredient. Beefy short ribs are coated in a peppery spice rub reminiscent of the crust on a corner-deli pastrami before dry-curing for several days, while whole ducks are butchered, seasoned with sweet paprika, and then left to age for longer than it would take to hop on a freighter and sail back to visit your grandma in the Old Country.

The James Beard Foundation selects outstanding chefs from around the world to cook at James Beard’s historic home in Manhattan’s West Village, and Yehuda saw this as his opportunity to show his (ravenous) audience dishes rich with both flavor and meaning from his own past. He took his night at the Beard House– a sort of culinary stadium for chefs– as a chance to showcase the sort of dishes that makes Abe Fisher iconic.

The evening started off with small bites that welcomed us like a warm hug from an overbearing bubbe who spent all day in the kitchen. Whether you’re Jewish yourself, or you just have fond memories of splitting a corned beef sandwich with your dad at your local deli, eating Yehuda’s food guarantees you a  trip down memory lane.

We munched on toasts crisped in a layer of schmaltz and topped with a lush chicken liver spread. Yes, you heard us right, lush. Decadent and creamy, with a hint of boozy sweetness. Without the trademark irony grittiness of its chopped cousin, it ate more as a savory semifreddo. Definitely not your grandma’s chopped liver.

An overly citrusy latke petit four missed the mark, but a delicate meatball with a dash of herbed crema promptly compensated. Pickled long hots gave a nod to Philly and balanced out the richness of the succulent meat.

Dishes often thought of as flavorless or boring soared to new levels. Borscht– a cold beet soup traditionally served with potatoes and chopped egg– evolved into cold shredded beets sprinkled with dill that paired perfectly with the crisp crunch and salty tang of homemade sour cream and onion potato chips. The sinewy strands of beet shined with a pungent, yet palatable amount of horseradish. Think your ordinary chrein, but good enough to stand alone.

The veal schnitzel taco was a crowd favorite. Tender slabs of veal battered and fried acted as a rich bed for a tuft of brightly sweet cabbage slaw, while savory streaks of anchovy-infused mayonaise became an umami-rich coating for an already stellar dish.

Gefilte fish, as typically prepared, may fairly be labeled the aquatic equivalent of the Slim Jim. In its mass-manufactured form, cuts of flesh mysteriously wind up as suspiciously gray loaves drifting through a Manischewitz jar.

In this case, however, Yehuda coaxed silky fish filets into tight cylinders filled with a savory, raisin-studded stuffing and then seared them until crisp. A darkly sweet and syrupy chraine reduction rich with beets and vinegar brought out the fishier side of the dish. “Gefilte fish” was probably a slight misnomer, but we thank him for this slight deception.

And then the final savory course.

Back in the kitchen, Yehuda dismantled a mountainous pile of smoked short ribs to (literal) moans of satisfaction from the photographers and house staff that walked by. Each meaty rack was dark and crusty with a thick layer of pastrami spice painstakingly painted on by days of aging and a long rest in a smoker.

Health code be damned–I caught more than a few lucky guests snagging scraps on their way past the counter.

What arrived at the table was a perfect distillation of a pastrami on rye. Smoke-kissed mounds of roughly chopped short rib– tender and jiggly with smoky beef fat and wrapped in a thick, peppery crust. As the platter (and our jaws) dropped to the table, the unmistakable aroma of a Jewish deli reached up and punched us in the face. Think Katz’s times a million.

Showing he’s inspired, not bound by his roots, Yehuda ended the meal with a bacon egg cream (and a pinot noir). Rich chocolate mousse made light with egg cream topped a woodsy layer of maple custard and a bed of crispy bacon crumbs transformed into chocolatey “Oreo bacon” through some sort of culinary magic.

At different points in the meal, our mouths rang with peppery notes of caraway and fresh breaths of dill, but the sweet memories Yehuda invoked with each course invoked were constant. Sure, the food at Abe Fisher is delicious– but what really makes each course shine are the thoughts and stories that come along for the ride. All in all, Chef Sichel runs Old World Ashkenazi cuisine through a mesh of modernity, updating its techniques and flavors while remaining true to the shtetls it came from.

-Chase Matecun and Asher Sendyk