Latkes are more of a phenomenon than a dish for me: once a year, I gorge on latkes, going way past the uncomfortably full stage, and then abstain completely for the other 364 days. I associate more happy memories with latkes than probably any other food in the world and they’d be the centerpiece of my last meal on earth, but it’s a one-night-a-year treat. It’s not that having a plate of latkes in, say, April would be sacrilegious or even just wrong; but the thought of doing so would never even cross my mind. Latkes are sacred. Latkes, for me, are Hanukkah.

And, yes, when I say ‘latkes’, I mean ‘my mom’s latkes’. There’s no exception. No substitutes. You may swear that your zadie or bubby or great-aunt Ethel makes the world’s best latkes, and I’ll politely abstain. All latkes are not fried equal.

To be perfectly honest, your great-aunt Ethel’s latkes may be just as good as my mom’s; they may even be better (not a chance). But when I bite into one of my mom’s latkes, the best moments of every Hanukkah past sweep over me: dinner with my cousins; the waffle blocks that were all I wanted in 1988; beating my dad at dreidle; the reflection of the menorah’s candles against the snow outside the window on the last night of Hanukkah. It’s not nostalgia, it’s being there, the sights, sounds, smells of holidays gone by as real and tangible as they ever were. That’s something your bubby’s latkes can’t do for me.

If, unlike me, you quite sensibly want to have latkes beyond Hanukkah, there are some great ways to adapt the recipe. Obviously, one of the greatest things about latkes are that they’re cheap - a sack of potatoes, a couple onions, a few eggs, some matzo meal - and always seasonal, no matter where you are (again - potatoes, onions, eggs).

But why not try mixing in some peeled, grated apple? Or trade in yukon or russet potatoes for sweet potatoes? Maybe forego the potatoes altogether for parsnip & zucchini. Or try this recipe for beet & celery root latkes from the New York Times.

In fact, once the spring vegetables are back at the Greenmarket, I might just try out an herb-laced summer squash variation. If it’s different enough from latkes, maybe I can find a way to make an exception.