Spinning tales: A Hanukkah primer

Hanukkah. Chanukah. Hanuka. Why so many spellings? The word, which means "dedication" (more on that shortly), derives from Hebrew, so these are the closest transliterations we have. They all are correct, but the first spelling is the most common (and what the Star Tribune uses). Interestingly, videographer and blogger Joe Maller (Joemaller.com) discovered 16 ways that people spell the holiday. My favorite: Xanuka, which is bound to win you Scrabble points.

Why does the date bounce around every year? The Jewish calendar is based largely on a lunar cycle, not a solar one, with a few more days thrown in to make it interesting. That means annual shifts in when Jewish holidays fall. Your Jewish friends can tell you about a Hanukkah not too many years back that began the day after Thanksgiving, giving new meaning to the word stuffed. Jewish holidays, by the way, begin at sunset the night before.

Why eight nights? There are really two Hanukkah stories -- the one we tell our children, and the one they eventually learn. It's true that Hanukkah is a celebration of the Jewish people's victory over Syrian-Hellenist oppressors forcing them to assimilate around 168 B.C. The popular hero of the story, Judah Maccabee, hid in the hills for four years with a small band of brothers and fellow Jews to emerge victorious against a far larger Syrian army. The Jews reclaimed their holy Temple, then lit their eternal flame with a tiny spot of olive oil that they believed was enough for just one day. The oil burned, miraculously, for eight days, hence the eight-day holiday. What is often lost in the retelling is that Hanukkah is also a story of civil war. Many Jews wanted to assimilate and much Jewish blood was shed by fellow Jews. If nothing else, this back story helps us more clearly understand the sacrifices made.

If it's an eight-day holiday, why does your candelabrum hold nine candles? The candelabrum, also called a Hanukkiah, holds eight candles and one shamash, or helper candle used to light the others. (A menorah, in contrast, has seven stems and is not used on Hanukkah.) Candles are placed from right to left, which is how Hebrew is read, then lit from left to right, so the newest candle is lit first each night.

Potato what? Potato pancakes or latkes (pronounced lot-kiss or lot-keys) are a staple of Hanukkah. Generally a combination of potatoes, egg and onion, they're simple to make if you don't mind grating potatoes until your fingers are bloody pulp, then adding lots of salt. Latkes are fried in a sea of vegetable oil to commemorate the miracle of the long-lasting temple oil, a dish not recommended the night before your annual cholesterol test. Some modern Jews prepare latkes from boxed mixes, such as those eaten by my unsuspecting colleagues at last week's holiday party. Oh, stop it! You loved them. Speaking of oil, many Israelis and Jews of Sephardic, or North African, descent, also enjoy fruit-filled, deep-fried doughnuts called sufganiyot. It's a virtual Jewish State Fair, I tell you.

Why do you play with a top? The game, called Dreidel, is played with a four-sided top and, typically, chocolate "coins" called gelt, which means money in Yiddish. Each side of the top carries a Hebrew letter (Nun, Gimel, Hey, Shin) that carries the message, "Nes Gadol Haya Sham," translated as "A great miracle happened there." (You're right; that's five words, but work with me here.) Land on Nun and you get nothing. Gimel, everything. Hey is half and Shin means you have to put a piece in. The game ends when one child has won all the chocolate gelt and his or her younger, overly tired sibling begins to throw a tantrum. (Suggestion: Plastic rather than wooden dreidels are best in these situations.)

Do Jewish children wish for Christmas? Oy vey and you betcha! When I was a kid, Hanukkah gifts were actually a much bigger deal, as my well-intentioned, first-generation-American parents tried to compensate for the fact that we were pretty much the only Jews living in the desert of Albuquerque, N.M. The eight nights built like a fugue, the gifts getting bigger until ... the stereo system!!! This may be why my three kids give me that "Wha?" look when I give them each 20 bucks and tell them to knock themselves out. Truthfully, though, Jewish families still face plenty of commercialized, and often ridiculous, temptations such as a four-pack of Chanukah soda I just came across, featuring the flavors latke, applesauce, chocolate coins and jelly doughnut. (See "Oy vey and you betcha" above.) But even before these dire economic times, many Jewish families began to reel it in, focusing on the admittedly minor Jewish holiday's true bright spots: Freedom. Family. Food. Games. Light in the darkness.

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350