Have you ever wondered why every politician running for office, always and I mean always stops at Yonah Schimmel’s knishery?
It’s probably the least bourgie thing one can do, but it’s become a political ritual as deeply ingrained in the New York food culture as the Fourth of July hotdog eating contest on Coney Island. How and why would a small mound of dough, stuffed with lightly mashed potato or savory kasha garner such political capital?
The story is more dynamic than you might expect. It involves a Jewish immigrant who defines the word moxie, a beloved first lady and a humble food that ignited a tradition that continues today.
For those not familiar, a knish is a pocket of dough, shaped either round or square that can be fried or baked after being stuffed with a variety of fillings. It has a big history, considering it is a little nosh. The knish can be traced to a town in Poland aptly named Knyszyn. It makes sense that if you live in knishtown, you probably know a thing or two about knishes. In her comprehensive book Knish: in Search of Jewish Soul Food, author Laura Silver writes that back in the day, long before you could call for an Uber or Lyft, monks would ride presumably on horseback going door to door trick or treat style in search of knishes. So popular was the knish across all cultures that in a town that would have been in present day Ukraine, this little ditty was written.
They get so confused, they know not their own minds,
One celebrates with a Jew, and at night with a Lutheran dines.
The next day, it’s knishes with the Orthodox priest-man,
And so, each one knows not where he stands.
Flash forward to the early 1900s where Jewish pushcart vendors filled the streets of the Lower East Side and knishes were ubiquitous. They became the ultimate fast food, no fork, knife or condiment needed. The area around Rivington Street on the Lower East Side became knish central as pushcarts gave way to brick and mortar storefronts. One knish baker, Yonah Schimmel, a Romanian Rabbi, stood out among the rest and is still a legendary purveyor. He sold his wife’s classic knishes first from a pushcart and eventually from his store which still stands today. Guidebooks touted his rounds of deliciousness and with the zealousness usually reserved for religious pilgrimages, people flocked to his shop. His acclaim as master knish maker and political influencer remains today, more on that in a moment.
Just blocks away from Schimmel’s, on Houston Street, Gussie Schwebel lived and baked her version. Without a single TikTok video, Gussie attracted celebrities like Enrico Caruso and Marxist revolutionary Leon Trotsky, who lined up outside her home to sample her creations. She proclaimed herself the “Queen of Knishes” and to that end, felt it was only natural for her to reach out to First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt. In a letter she penned to Roosevelt she wrote “I wonder if I may be able to be of service to my beloved land, by way of introducing the knish, which is very wholesome and not costly to produce into the diet of our armed forces.” She epitomized patriotism, entrepreneurship, and chutzpah. After several exchanges, the First Lady agreed to accept a shipment of Gussie’s legendary knishes. The delivery was set, via a telegram confirmation, for Tuesday January 27th at precisely 5:00pm. In DoorDash style, they would be left at the First Lady’s apartment located on the Upper East Side of New York. The excitement was palpable but short-lived, as Roosevelt was perturbed by the media attention the shipment was garnering and canceled the order before she could even take a bite.
This publicized event might just be how the tradition of politicians eating knishes was born. From Gussie’s disappointment rose a new way for local and national political hopefuls to show they were just regular people while courting the Jewish vote. They would trek to Yonah Schimmel and take a bite out of the Big Apple, by eating a knish. It has been said that no New York politician can win an election without checking this box. That’s why it is particularly ironic that Jewish candidate for New York Governor, Robert Morgenthau caused a “knishption” when he lost his bid to Gentile, Nelson Rockefeller. Morgenthau skipped a visit to Schimmel’s, while Rockefeller had the obligatory knish-eating photo-op. It is a tale widely told that after Morgenthau lost, he spotted Black civil rights activist Bayard Rustin enjoying a knish. He reportedly questioned Rustin as to what he was eating. The quick-witted reply was “I’m eating the reason you’re not governor.” As Rustin easily finished his last bite, the comment was hard for Morgenthau to swallow.
So prevalent and revered was this political move to sample a Schimmel knish to be a “knish eating politician” was tantamount to being called a savvy campaigner who knows how to please the crowd. For some Jewish New Yorkers, the tradition seemed to wreak of pandering. In the 1970s non-Jewish Mayoral candidate John Lindsay received the scorn of Jewish protestors who told him that eating a knish was no longer a guarantee of getting their vote. Not so for Mayor Eric Adams who was warmly invited to Schimmels, as the avowed vegan could enjoy the dairy free delicacy with a clear conscience and clear path to Gracie Mansion.
Presidents, governors and mayors all continue to pay homage to the little nosh that could. As an epilogue, it’s interesting to note that Eleanor Roosevelt did eventually sample a fresh baked knish, but not one of Gussie’s. Apparently when FDR was campaigning for President, Eleanor visited Schimmel’s. While that must have raised the ire of Gussie, it sealed the deal for Roosevelt, and as they say, the rest is history.
Featured Photo credit: Iconic New York Jewish Food
