I've never understood Jews who get excited about Chanukah. It is not a thrilling holiday. You will not find the story of Chanukah in the Hebrew Bible. You have to refer to the "deuterocanonical" texts of the Septuagint to find it. It is the story of a fundamentalist priestly family called the Hasmoneans, who led an insurrection against the assimilationist Hellenic rulers of Judea in the second century B.C. It is said that first day of Chanukah is the day the Hasmoneans re-took the Temple in Jerusalem from their foreign occupiers and rededicated it with a three-month-late celebration of the seven-day Festival of Huts. They established a dynasty that ruled tenuously and briefly from Jerusalem under the constant onslaught of far more potent empires, and then they faded into history. Centuries later, as the Talmud was being compiled, the nortoriously verbose rabbis of the Jewish academies in Babylon could only generate seven pages of material on this obscure festival. To put this weak effort in context, consider that the ancient sages produced whole tracts on the proper etiquette for using the bathroom. When the Talmud turns to the festival of lights, the very first line is: "What's Chanukah?"

Perhaps to add some flash to an otherwise uninspiring narrative, these sages posited a miracle. In this version of the story, when the Hasmoneans re-took the Temple they found that their Hellenist occupiers had defiled all but a single vial of the Temple's sacred oil by breaking the High Priest's seals with their filthy gentile hands. This single vial should have been enough to light the ceremonial lamps for only a single day, but -- and this is the miracle part -- it lasted for eight days, long enough for the Hasmoneans to ... pick some olives and press more oil.

This story doesn't do much to make me more excited about Chanukah, but the supposed miracle of the oil did give rise to the only tradition that redeems the holiday for me. During the eight nights of Chanukah, Jews are instructed to eat foods fried in oil. Say what you want about the Hasmoneans and their dubious miracles, I will take any excuse I can get to eat things that have been deep-fried.

Many Jews of European descent are familiar with sufganiyot, the jelly doughnuts that ashkenazis incorporate into their chanukah diet. My ancestors in Babylon fulfilled their oleic obligations with a different kind of dessert. This is zingoulah, a funnel cake soaked in the ubiquitous rosewater syrup that drenches all pastries from that part of the world. My grandmother made it with yeast, but my mother and I have Westernized the recipe a bit with the substitution of beer. I can't think of a more fitting way to observe a holiday that celebrates violent opposition to cultural exchange.

Recipe: Zingoulah

Ingredients:

For the batter:

• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 pint beer

For the syrup:

• 2 cups sugar
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 2 tbsp. lemon juice
• 1/2 tsp ground cardamom
• 2 tsp. rose water

• Canola oil for deep frying

Heat the canola oil in a pot as large around as you want your zingoulah to be. Make sure not to fill the pot higher than the half way mark. Use a deep-frying thermometer and heat the oil to 330 degrees.

Sift together the flour, sugar, and salt, and whisk in the beer in stages. Stir until thoroughly incorporated, then let rest at room temperature for at least half an hour.

Meanwhile, heat the sugar, water, and lemon juice in a saucepan until boiling. Boil for five minutes, then remove from the heat. Stir in the cardamom and rosewater, and set aside in a wide, flat dish to cool.

Using a funnel or a cup with a spout, pour the batter in 1-cup batches into the hot oil, moving the funnel around the pan to create an interlaced web of batter that will hold together when cooked. Deep fry until the sides are golden brown and the top is set, then flip with tongs or a spider. After 30 to 60 seconds cooking on the second side, remove the funnel cake and drain on paper towels.

When the funnel cake is cool enough to handle, but still warm, dip it in the syrup on both sides and set it on a serving plate or in a storage container. Stack the zingoulah on top of each other as each one is finished; the syrup will drain down the stack. The last one will be the sweetest of all.