Like skilled novelists, Jewish cooks miss no opportunity for symbolism.

Think of Chanukah latkes sizzling in oil or Purim's hamantashen, a filled cookie that's a metaphor for a story within a story about a queen who married under false pretenses and revealed her secret to save her people.

Among Jewish holidays, Passover is the most abundant in symbols, which are turned into ingredients that are chopped, braised and baked into dishes such as matzoh farfel, vegetables as green as spring, and pastries puffed with eggs.

When you're making sufganiyot — doughnuts that are a Chanukah specialty — handling hot oil is a dangerous pursuit. However, if safety rules are followed, you won't get burned.

1. Olive oil smokes at high temperatures, so the following oils are recommended for deep-frying: corn, peanut, and canola.

'. Use a candy thermometer to make sure oil doesn't become too hot for safety, above 375 degrees. Oil should not smoke or boil. If it does, turn off flame.

At the age of 14, having a great time dropping doughnuts into boiling oil despite the occasional spatter, little did I realize I was decades ahead of the curve.

In the 1960s, who knew that one day doughnuts, fritters and beignets would become trendy during Chanukah, giving latkes a run for their gelt?

People write kosher cookbooks for many reasons: to publish tasty new recipes, to augment the canon of Jewish cuisine, and to present low-fat, fool-proof or trendy fare.

Doris Schechter, author of "At Oma's Table" (Penguin Group, '007), didn't fit into any of these categories.

"My literary agent told me Penguin was looking for a Jewish grandmother cookbook," she recalls. "I thought they were interested in my story, but they really wanted memories of my grandmother."

This posed problems for Schechter, causing her to hesitate.

"You have to understand, I never went there," she says, explaining that she had sealed off that part of her past, locking it away in her heart.

Schechter's life story follows the path of many Jews of a certain age.

A desire for a sweet new year, often expressed in honey cake and apple crisp, brings Jews with differing needs together on Rosh HaShanah, when the menu typically revolves around turkey, brisket, or veal.

While most appreciate the flakiness of fine pastry that butter delivers, a growing number observe kosher laws prohibiting the mixing of dairy products and meat at the same meal. Some Jews eschew butter because of high cholesterol or they are allergic to dairy products or cannot digest them well. Jewish vegans won't eat meat, eggs, and dairy foods for health and humane reasons.

Malanga-crusted sole. Tina Wasserman/JTA

Then people think of Cuba, they picture shortages. There's little oil for frying food or candles, similar to conditions in ancient Israel, when the Maccabees defeated the Syrians. There are no potatoes or boniatos, Cuban white sweet potatoes, which were once grated into latkes and kugels. Basic commodities, such as milk, eggs, and malanga — an indigenous tuberous vegetable — are hard to obtain. But things were not always this way.

Picture Chanukah before Fidel Castro's Communist revolution in January 1959. While latkes sizzled, holiday candles shimmered in balmy air. Jews were free to celebrate the miracle of how a one-day supply of oil stretched for eight days.

The island was dotted with luxury hotels, nightclubs, and restaurants. Escaping winter chill, wealthy tourists flocked there to sunbathe and gamble.

"In the '40s and '50s, there was so much prosperity, the Jewish community flourished," says Tina Wasserman, Reform Judaism Magazine's food columnist. "The Jewish way of life mirrored the opulent lifestyle enjoyed by many American Jews."

Cuban Jews were doctors, architects, bankers, shopkeepers, and owners of garment factories and hotels.

"Jewish Cooking for All Seasons: Fresh, Flavorful Kosher Recipes for Holidays and Every Day," by Laura Frankel. Wiley Publishing

The problem with Thanksgiving is the food. Although it's a lovely family holiday, most traditional Thanksgiving recipes — the mashed and sweet potatoes, chestnut stuffings, cornbread dressings, whipped parsnips, pastries, and pies — call for butter. Riddled with fat and cholesterol, butter also poses a challenge to people who keep kosher. Jewish dietary laws prohibit the mixing of dairy with meat. On Thanksgiving, it means the autumn foods Americans love must be tweaked to share a sideboard with turkey.

Most kashrut observers simply substitute margarine for butter and move on. It's the way Jewish cooks have operated for decades. But what happens to flavor in the process?

"I never use margarine," says chef Laura Frankel, co-owner of Shallots, a Chicago-area restaurant renowned not only for fabulous dining, but for being among the top kosher restaurants in America. "You can't take a recipe calling for butter and shove margarine into it instead."

While Rosh HaShanah is one of Judaism's most joyous holidays, it's also the start of a series of celebrations and sumptuous meals, and a challenge for people trying to maintain their weight.

This is especially true for observant Jews who, by the end of Sukkot's eight days, might consume '0 holiday meals, if you include the Shabbat dinners and lunches, which often don't overlap with this string of fall holidays. Because Jewish mothers love to feed their families, these joyous meals come with several courses, including dishes that rekindle our best memories of home.

"This is prime eating season," says Azriela Jaffe, author of "After the Diet: Delicious kosher recipes with less fat, calories and carbohydrates" (Hakoras Hatov Publishing, '005). "By the time the holidays are over, you can gain 10 pounds without even thinking."

She knows this from experience — every Rosh HaShanah, it used to happen to her and her husband Stephen.

Cookbook

Phyllis Glazer recalls a morning in the 1970s when she, her mother, and three sisters packed a picnic lunch and drove to a kibbutz in an old Citroen.

"It was one of those beautiful sunlit spring days in the hills of Menashe, in the Galilee," says Glazer, author of "The Essential Book of Jewish Festival Cooking"  (HarperCollins, '004).

"The wagons rolled in, heaped to the brim with freshly harvested wheat. Baskets overflowing with homegrown fruits and grains were laid out on the table, and the entire community was singing. Even the dairy cows were decorated with wreaths. It was the festival of Shavuot, and the whole kibbutz was celebrating."