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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Time-honored celebration


Zeke Amstadter, 11, replaces the helper candle after lighting seven of the eight Hanukkah candles on Dec. 10 at the Amstadter home in Spokane. At left is Zeke's oldest sister, Logan, 17.
 (Photos by JESSE TINSLEY/THE SPOKESMAN-REVIEW / The Spokesman-Review)
Amy Klamper Correspondent

On a frosty Hanukkah night outside Ira Amstadter’s South Hill home, you could smell the potato latkes from the street.

“We only do the frying of the pancakes on an electric pan on the porch,” he says of the traditional Hanukkah delicacy, made from grated spuds and onions pan-fried in oil. “Otherwise, it’s a bit intense.”

Last week, on the seventh night of Hanukkah, Amstadter and his family gathered to feast on potato latkes as part of the eight-day Jewish celebration, which commemorates the second century rededication of the Jerusalem Temple following the Maccabees’ revolt against Syria.

Also known as the Festival of Lights, Hanukkah starts on the 25th day of the Jewish month of Kislev, taking place any time from late November to late December. This year the holiday began on Dec. 4.

Like many Jewish households, the Amstadters spent each night during the festival celebrating with candles, dreidel spinning, and – what else?

“Eating!” says his wife, Susan. “And lighting candles,” she adds soberly.

Although the holiday is commonly known for the nightly lighting of the menorah, the traditional Hanukkah meal is equally symbolic for Jews. Foods fried or baked in oil pay homage to the original miracle of Hanukkah: In 165 B.C., during the rededication of the Jerusalem Temple, the Maccabees had only enough oil to burn their sacred lamp for one night, yet the lamp burned for eight days.

Ira Amstadter says olive oil is the family’s preferred fat for frying latkes, which are traditionally served with sour cream and applesauce. In the Amstadter household, the pancakes are also accompanied by soup, salad and stuffed grape leaves.

“We try to keep it light, since we’re consuming a year’s worth of oil,” his wife said.

After dinner, the group – which includes Ira Amstadter’s brother, Michael, and his family – gathers in the living room to light a colorful array of menorahs lining the front windowsill.

Logan Amstadter, 17, explains the family’s menorah collection: “Some of them are very old, from family members and friends,” she says, as sister Beverly, 16, hands a lighter to their 11-year-old brother, Zeke.

After Zeke lights the shamash – or guardian candle – in each menorah, the family sings a traditional Hanukkah blessing, lighting seven of the eight candles from left to right.

With the menorahs lit, the family steps back, taking in the festive glow of the candlelight as they honor the centuries of tradition that brought them together.

“Now we’re supposed to sit around and enjoy them,” Susan Amstadter says, as her husband clears the coffee table for a game of dreidel.

Logan Amstadter’s soft voice chimes in: “Happy Hanukkah.”