The Complicated (but Lucrative) Business of Keeping Kosher

As chicken sizzles on the grill in the Four Seasons Hotel’s kosher kitchen, Chef Guillermo Ramerez is chopping parsley and pastry chef Donald Wressell is scooping dairy-free chocolate mousse into terrines. Luncheon menu in hand, Rabbi Binyomin Lisbon, the mashgiach who oversees preparation, is peering into pots and pans, checking carton labels.

In two hours, upstairs in the Wetherly Room, there is to be a bris, the circumcision of an infant with a celebratory meal to follow. The staff is on kosher alert--from the kosher kitchen to the Wetherly pantry where loaves of challah sit on the breadboard.

There will be margarine, not butter, for the challah, Mocha Mix, not cream, for the coffee. And Lisbon and another rabbi will be around from cocktail hour to dessert to make sure everything is strictly acceptable to Orthodox and other Jews who observe kosher law.

The Four Seasons, on the edge of Beverly Hills, is among deluxe area hotels that in recent years have invested in kosher kitchens--kitchens opened only for events where dairy and meat never mingle, where shellfish and broccoli are banned and all processed foods must bear a label proclaiming them kosher.

About 15 four-star L.A. hotels now boast kosher kitchens or will kasher their kitchens for special events.

“It just makes good business sense,” says Pini Herman, research coordinator for the Jewish Federation Council, whose events are always kosher. “If it’s kosher, everybody can participate without fear. Also, there are many Conservative Jews who observe kashrut.”

By federation estimates, the Jewish population of Greater Los Angeles is about 520,000, or 247,000 households, of which only 4.3% are Orthodox. But, Herman says, “Kashrut is often a common denominator at a social event where you want to include a denominational cross-section of the community.”

It makes such good business sense that hostelries including Loews Santa Monica Beach Hotel, the Bel Age, the Beverly Hills Hotel and the Warner Center Marriott recently installed expensive facilities so as to compete for the Jewish dollar with the Century Plaza and the Beverly Hilton. The Regent Beverly Wilshire, citing demand, is exploring the idea.

Loews catering manager Debra Rosenberg says business has tripled since the hotel put in its $250,000 facility on the fifth floor two years ago. The impetus, she says, came from owner Sidney Caplan, who wanted a kosher kitchen, but there was also “great demand.”

*

Jonathan Reeves, director of special events at the Four Seasons, which opened its kosher kitchen in early 1997, says, “Our sales have increased 200% with the kosher kitchen revenues. I think there’s a lot more people more observant.” The hotel now hosts three kosher events such as bar and bat mitzvahs and weddings weekly. At a cost of $200,000, Reeves says, the kitchen “paid for itself in the first year.”

At the Beverly Hills Hotel, which in mid-1995 dedicated a $500,000 state-of-the-art kosher kitchen a floor below the Polo Lounge, catering director Dianne Greenberg says, “It took off immediately,” and today 40% of hotel events are kosher. Lisbon calls this kitchen “a rabbi’s dream,” totally self-contained from pots to place settings, skillets to spices.

And the cuisine? At the Beverly Hills, Chef Andreas Nieto’s choices include pheasant ravioli with wild mushrooms, mesquite grilled salmon, poached pear with vanilla bean sauce. The wine list is varied and sophisticated--and strictly kosher.

“We do a lot of great food here,” says Nieto, “tasteful and elegant,” sort of kosher meets California meets French, “very modern, very fresh.”

Where there is a kosher kitchen, there is a mashgiach to oversee events. For a typical 4 p.m. Sunday wedding and feast, he might arrive at the hotel at 8 a.m. and stay until every pot, pan and dish is put away and the kitchen locked. Not all mashgiachs are rabbis, but all are trained in the kosher life.

Before these hotels installed special kitchens, a kosher caterer had to be brought in and the main kitchen shut down while the ovens were blowtorched to rid them of any particles of nonkosher food. Even with a mashgiach on hand, some observant Jews felt uneasy.

The day before the bris at the Four Seasons, Rabbi Motti Polityko, an assistant to Lisbon, had spent five hours at the hotel, supervising kashering (sterilizing) of the silver and torching of the steel hot boxes that would deliver luncheon entrees to the Wetherly Room.

“Wherever people go to eat, you’re the one they rely on,” says Lisbon, whose Kehilla Kosher of Los Angeles is one of the two largest agencies providing kashrut supervision. The other is the Rabbinical Council of California. Some hotels use both. Client loyalties are strong.

“The community is definitely split,” Rosenberg says.

*

On the day of an event, it’s not just a matter of the chef unlocking the kitchen door and going to work. That door will have been sealed with tape after the last event, to be opened only by a mashgiach. Often, only he and the hotel security office have a key.

As food preparation begins, the mashgiach is on alert for any slip-up--is the soup being stirred with a spoon from the hotel’s nonkosher kitchen? (At the Four Seasons, kosher utensils are spray-painted red.) Is all of the china from the kosher kitchen? Have any forbidden foods been brought in by hosts or guests? Do the waiters know what to tell nonkosher guests who ask for milk or butter? (Sorry, but no).

If it’s a Saturday event, the mashgiach may have overnighted at the hotel, as Orthodox Jews may not drive during Shabbat from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday.

Nor can the cooking begin until sundown Saturday. Says the Beverly Hills Hotel’s Greenberg, “In August, we have clients who come in and want to start at 6 o’clock. You can’t. With daylight savings time, it won’t be dark for several hours.”

Once a flame is turned off on Friday, it may not be reignited until sundown Saturday.

“We can’t make a pot of coffee on Saturday morning,” says Loews Santa Monica’s Rosenberg.

If it’s a Saturday summer wedding, the staff can’t begin cooking until 8 p.m. (Fortunately, most Orthodox couples choose to wed on Sunday.)

“The chef has to be very creative,” says the Four Seasons’ Reeves. For a Saturday kosher luncheon, that might mean a cold entree, prepared the day before, or a hot dish slow-cooked overnight without turning off the flame.

To the uninitiated, understanding what comprises kosher is a piece of kugel compared to understanding the whys and wherefores of keeping kashrut.

For example, a nonkosher meal might start with smoked salmon and cream cheese, a kosher meal with smoked salmon and nondairy dill mayonnaise. The salad course? Nondairy Caesar, not blue cheese. And, for the chicken, a mango sauce in lieu of a cream-based one.

But why no mixing of meat or poultry and dairy? Why no shellfish? Why no vegetables such as broccoli that might hide mites?

It’s “definitely not” for hygienic reasons, says Rabbi Avrohom Union, Rabbinic administrator of the Rabbinical Council, though this is “a misconception which is very prevalent. There are many things [in dietary law] which, from a purely hygienic point of view, make no sense.”

While the principal dietary laws are found in the Bible, Union says, “ultimately, for the believing Jew, the real answer to the philosophical question is we do it because we regard this as God’s law. Having said that, we believe there are many benefits and insights and lessons to be learned,” such as self-discipline and the injection of spirituality into every aspect of life, “of which eating is a very, very important part.”

In short, says Union, “for those who believe, there are no questions. For those who do not believe, there are no answers. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong to probe, to ask. The great minds over the years have tried to understand it in terms of its moral and spiritual applications.”

Today, he says, most who are faithfully observant “do so because they regard it as a part of their religious heritage and they regard it as binding, even if it is sometimes inconvenient.” Those Jews who do it purely for sentimental reasons, or for cultural identity, he adds, are apt “not to survive the blandishments of McDonald’s.”

Lisbon puts it this way: “We believe God instructs us because it’s the best thing for the soul. The Bible doesn’t say, ‘Do this because . . . .’ ” For example, he says, the Bible doesn’t explain why shellfish, or anything else that crawls, is forbidden, only that it is.

“It is a sacrifice,” says Lisbon, which is part of the point. “And, in truth, it becomes second nature.” When his 4-year-old twins spot a bubble-gum machine, he says, “The first question isn’t, ‘Can I have one?’ but ‘Is it kosher?’ ” Some is; some isn’t.

So who’s booking all these kosher kitchens? The strictly kosher, of course, but also, Lisbon says, a nonkosher family that might “have a grandfather from back East who only keeps kosher” coming to a wedding. Young people might choose a kosher celebration to honor the tradition of their parents, just as a corporation might book a kosher dinner out of respect for an observant CEO.

*

Some foods are, by definition, kosher, such as salt and sugar. Others may or may not be, according to the manner in which they are processed. The Rabbinical Council and Kehilla are among about 200 agencies nationwide that certify foods as kosher and authorize processors to label the packages accordingly.

“There really is no supreme body that dictates which organization can give kosher certification,” Union says, so “a symbol is only as good as the organization.”

The mashgiachs are well aware of this. Case in point: The bris luncheon at the Four Seasons. The hostess had brought boxed candies as party favors. Lisbon inspected the box and, seeing no familiar kosher code, shook his head.

“We take responsibility for everything served in the room,” he explained. The compromise: Guests would get the candies at the door as they left.

“You can’t be too careful,” Lisbon says. Already, two guests had come back to the pantry to ascertain that there was proper kosher supervision. The guest list for the bris had grown at the last minute, from 35 to more than 60, and the chef was short of chicken. “Getting a kosher chicken at this hour could be a little difficult,” says Lisbon. The children would be served fruit plates.

Once the meal--curly endive and pear salad, chicken with mushroom sauce on a bed of wild rice, haricots verts--had been served, Lisbon and Polityko, still couldn’t relax. A waiter dashes in, asking, “Do we have kosher mustard?” Yes, says Lisbon, Grey Poupon. Another guest wanted soy sauce. No problem, says Lisbon. “Kikkomon is kosher.”

For their watchdogging, the mashgiachs charge $500 to $750 per event, which is absorbed by the party-giver, as is the $5- to $10-per-plate cost for kosher meats. Setup is also more complex; if bread is to be served with a meal, guests require a washing station in the dining room, according to kosher law.

Should the hotel run short of kosher china, Rosenberg says, “anything brand new can be used as kosher. There isn’t anybody in town who hasn’t pulled out brand-new china, then put it back in regular stock.” Silver, because it is nonporous, need only be thoroughly washed.

Rosenberg, who learned to keep kosher from a former roommate, and who has herself cooked in name restaurants, trains the kosher kitchen staff, emphasizing, “When in doubt, question.” Even flavored mineral water might be nonkosher. And, she says, “you can’t just buy any old lettuce. It must be bug-free” and washed a proscribed number of times.

Sometimes, says Rosenberg, her job includes educating party hosts, as when one parent is not Jewish but the bridal couple want a kosher celebration. “It’s a whole other world working with the Orthodox community.”