There's a lot of schmaltz in this tail. I'm speaking metaphorically here about the fat at the end part of a fish. Then again, this memoir is also a fish tale. In Russ and Daughters, the third generation owner of an iconic New York herring and lox store waxes nostalgic about the store's history. The tone is very conversational. Mr. Federman is quite the schmoozer and the story is as Jewish as a piece of challah dipped in herring sauce (try it, you'll like it, and don't forget to include some onion). Federman starts with his grandfather and ends with his own kid and nephew running the store. Along the way he includes a few recipes, although I wouldn't at all call this a cook book.
Smoked sable, lox, and herring are my kind of food. One of my earliest memories is of me eating a piece of herring while my father holds me in his arms. According to my father, I was fourteen months old. If you're not enamored of Jewish "appetizing food" like this, you're not likely going to find this book interesting. But if smoked fish is your favorite dish and your parents or grandparents spoke Yiddish (or you speak Yiddish), this book will be a lot of fun. I do note that some of the Yiddish in this book isn't at all correct. But you don't read this book for the scholarship. Some of the stories sound like pure baloney (sorry to mix dairy and meat in this review). You don't read it for the truth, either. You read it for the mood and the corny jokes. The biggest problem with this book is that it makes me desperate to find some decent smoked fish or herring. Alas, neither can be had within 300 miles of my home, at least. Words can only take you so far. Where oh where is my smoked sable?!?