Continued culinary and emotional engagement with apricots
As many of you know, I’ve had apricots on my mind over the last year or so, ever since I decided to make them a symbol of dignity and democracy. I already loved apricot rugelach for many years before that, but in the past 12 months, my affinity for them has increased significantly.
I’ve been enjoying apricot rugelach out of hand because they taste so darned good! If you don’t know about their history, Amy Emberling and Frank Carollo write in their Zingerman’s Bakehouse cookbook,
Rugelach evolved from the Eastern European Jewish cookie called kipfel. In the early 1950s, the name “rugelach” appeared, and now it has taken over. The word seems to come from rug (Slavic for “horn”) and lakh (a diminutive plural), thus “little horns.” … Rugelach are the most popular and well-known Jewish cookies in the United States and are definitely the most popular Jewish cookies we make at the bakery. [Our] version … [has] a delicate and flaky dough (two-thirds of the dough is fat—butter and cream) encasing special fillings, sprinkled with sugar, and baked until golden brown.
Apricot rugelach are delicious dipped in the Noccioliva chocolate hazelnut spread we get from Central Italy. They also make a lovely small-plated dessert—put a bit of Zingerman’s handmade cream cheese on a plate, spoon on some apricot jam, and then lay the rugelach on top and eat with a fork! Easiest of all, rugelach are perfect for picnics, camping, or carrying around your backpack even when the summer heat is as high as it’s been the past few weeks.
If you’re like me, you’ll enjoy eating apricot rugelach even more while imagining them as a symbol of dignity and democracy. You can read the whole backstory of the project here, but the quick explanation is that it emerged from a poem entitled “Apricots of Donbas,” by the Ukrainian poet Lyuba Yakimchuk. Yakimchuk, who fled her native Donbas region with her husband and young son back when Russia invaded in 2014—a few months after what became known as the Revolution of Dignity—wrote a line that has stayed with me since I first read it:
Where no more apricots grow, Russia starts.
As soon as I saw that sentence, I had my symbol. Six months later, a lovely illustration of an apricot, done by the amazing Ian Nagy, appeared on T-shirts, hoodies, hats, and more via our friends at Underground Printing here in town. The proceeds go to the nonprofit, nonpartisan Democracy Now!.
If you’re at the Roadhouse, we also have great pins by the LA-based Armenian American artist Agavny Vardanyan. (If you’re out of town, you can order directly from Agavny, too. A percentage of her proceeds goes to Armenian community causes.)
Why did I initiate Apricots for Dignity and Democracy? In the context of Zingerman’s five-step organizational recipe for Bottom-Line Change, here’s step one—the “compelling reasons for change”:
Having a positive symbol for dignity and democracy is a plus. As I learned in writing The Power of Beliefs in Business, only positive beliefs can lead to positive outcomes.
As a symbol, the apricot is beautiful and natural.
It’s also nonpartisan.
Because neither the T-shirts nor the pins have any words attached, they’re neither offensive nor controversial. And if you don’t feel like talking about what they really represent, you can just say how much you like fruit!
In any case, buy a bag or two of apricot rugelach next time you’re at the Deli. They’re a delicious bite of sweet Jewish history and a powerful symbol of what we can make happen together going forward.
