If your only experience with kosher food is chocolate babka by way of Seinfeld reruns, you’ve been missing out. But the luscious cocoa-swirled pastry isn’t the only Jewish dessert that should be on your radar. You haven’t lived until you’ve indulged in sufganiyot, the traditional fried donuts that are a huge part of Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights.

As the legend goes, back in 139 B.C., the Maccabees (a lot like Ninjas, only Jewish) long persecuted by the Seleucid monarchy, reclaimed and subsequently rededicated the Second Temple in Jerusalem. Only one tiny vial of pure olive oil was found, barely enough to keep the temple’s menorah (candelabra) lit for a single day. But as with most winter holidays, there was a miracle involved — and the flames stayed lit for eight days. That miracle led to much merriment and the subsequent eating of deep-fried foods for millennia.

One could make a compelling argument that, on Hanukkah, eating anything deep-fried is actually a mitzvah, or good deed. And so crispy potato latkes make a yearly appearance, as do ooey-gooey fried donuts.

For many years, the Jewish and kosher demographic were sated with the sameness of their Hanukkah desserts. And what started as a humble blob of fried dough with a bit of jelly filling has evolved into an over-the-top expression of beautiful gluttony. Depending on the bakery, you might find multiple flavors, frostings and fillings on and in the same donut.

On a trip to Israel a few years ago, I noticed massive donut creations appearing in bakeries a few weeks before Hanukkah (bakeries in Israel sell an estimated 20 million donuts during the eight-day holiday). Within the next few years, they showed up all over New York as well. Eateries run by Israeli chefs are flying the fried dough trend, only updated. Balaboosta restaurant in NYC offers up sfenj, a Moroccan donut enhanced with arak, an anise-flavored spirit. And Breads Bakery is upping the jelly donut game by offering passion fruit filling along with classic flavors.

Head into Brooklyn and you might fight a line around the block at Sesame. And depending on where you go, a turbo-charged Nutella donut might cost eight to twelve dollars. And here’s where things get interesting; it’s not only over-the-top donuts that are making a regular appearance on the kosher food scene, but kosher food in general seems to be having a moment.

While kosher food was once a niche purchase, it’s expanded to somewhat huge sections at retailers like Publix and Wegmans. And kosher grocery stores have gone from tiny local stores to massive, beautifully decorated spaces like Brooklyn’s Pomegranate or Breadberry.

The kosher food space has experienced a trickle-down effect of foodie culture, according to kosher foodies I’ve spoken with. “The idea of kosher foodies has grown with social media,” said Dani Klein, who for the past 15 years has been running YeahThatsKosher, a digital resource for kosher travelers and diners. Klein said, “Foodie culture outside the kosher world and especially the popularity of the Food Network inspired the kosher world to follow suit.”

But kosher food shopping and dining out wasn’t always such an uplifting experience.

Kosher food, like other cuisines, is often mocked or maligned. And since keeping kosher comes with a complex list of requirements (never serving meat with milk is one) there’s a whole swath of food we’ll never taste. I once met a man who could not move past the fact that I’d never tasted a cheeseburger. Or bacon. Or seafood. And at this point in my life, I’m no longer even tempted.

Growing up in Brooklyn in the 1980s meant that we could often go to grubby pizza or falafel stores (for some reason kosher pizzerias almost always sold pizza and falafel), with a few kosher burger joints thrown into the mix with names like “Kosher King” or “Kosher Country.” And let us not forget “Kosher Delight,” RIP.

In my neighborhood, the Jewish kids were most often the children or grandchildren of Holocaust survivors. And while we enjoyed delicious food at home, we ate out only on the most special occasions. And since we were taught to be grateful for every bite, we didn’t actually pay attention to the decor or plating, which was haphazard at best.

A new exhibition at the New York Historical Society called “I’ll Have What She’s Having,” explores the way Jewish immigrants and their food evolved to create the Jewish delicatessen, a cornerstone of mid-20th-century Jewish life. Since then, Jewish food by way of kosher culture has evolved further. From world-class steakhouses to rooftop dining, there seems to be new kosher food experiences almost daily.

In the 1970s, my uncle, A.J. Schwartz, opened a small kosher grocery store in Borough Park, Brooklyn. He later added prepared foods and segued to kosher specialty items like old-school herring, lox and kugels. Five decades later, the third generation of Schwartzes are running Schwartz’s Appetizing stores throughout New York and New Jersey. “Kosher customers want the same food they always did, but better versions, with better ingredients, and better looking,” my cousin Tuvia Schwartz told me.

Last month, we celebrated a family member’s birthday at Pescada restaurant in Brooklyn. Their website features stunning main dishes and artfully plated desserts along with a prominently displayed icon describing their kosher certification. “Kosher restaurateurs have finally caught up with national trends,” said Liz Rueven, a food writer at @kosherlikeme.

Rueven also said a possible reason for the influx of new restaurants is a post-pandemic urge to socialize. “Most kosher keepers congregate on Friday night for Shabbat,” Rueven said. But right now, “There’s a pent-up yearning to go out, to have beautiful meals, and to congregate with friends and family.” And unlike the dawn of kosher dining out, there are multitudes of options and cuisines to choose from at restaurants that just happen to be kosher.

Brooklyn-based chaplain Mendy Coën, director-general of the United States Chaplain Corps (USCC), frequently hosts events where attendees most often range from observant Jews to politicians and visiting dignitaries. Most of Coën’s events take place in kosher restaurants, like on the rooftop of the Brooklyn restaurant Bass and Bourbon.

When I asked Coën for his favorite kosher restaurants in his neighborhood, trendy Crown Heights, he rattled off a varied list of delicious-sounding spots: Basil (pizza), Boeuf & Bun (artisanal burgers), Mozzarella (dairy) and Izzy’s Smokehouse (BBQ).

Back in the day, there was, at best, a handful of kosher restaurants most of us frequented on special occasions. But now we seem spoiled for choice.