“Since ur-knishes hadn’t penetrated American mainstream consciousness to any serious extent, it was easy for most people to link the name to the Gabila objects,” Leff added. “If they were delicious, you’d hear no objections from me. But they’re not delicious. They’re a convenience item invented by some dude trying to move product.”
Fortunately, some rustlings in the knish underground signal the beginnings of change. Like pastrami and bagels, knishes have migrated with Jewish expats and popped up in nouveau delis out west. In San Francisco, King Knish sells decidedly non-traditional, very treyf flavors like curry beef and chocolate.
In his review of the Russ and Daughters Café, New York Times restaurant critic Pete Wells praised their knishes as “light and fluffy specimens” that stood out from the crowd of dense, flavorless carb bombs.
“I kind of concluded early on that [knishes] weren’t for me, and left them alone,” Wells told me. “I have no use for the turmeric-colored ones sold out of hot dog carts, and this is coming from a man who at one point in his life ate a single hot pretzel with mustard for lunch every day.”
“Oh for sure,” Wells responded. “If I’d met a knish like that in my formative years there’s no telling what might have happened.”
