Hanukkah ended Dec. 10, and so did the eight-day season linked with eating latkes, potato pancakes fried to a crisp.

On a frivolous level, the Jewish Festival of Lights is a time to indulge in fried foods without the guilt, when it’s OK to use oil with abandon. More significantly, using lots of oil pays tribute to the miracle of Hanukkah, when a day’s worth of sacred oil was able to last for eight.

“It’s not Hanukkah without latkes,” says Rabbi Ken Aronowitz of Temple Emanu-El. “It’s not the healthiest thing in the world, but it’s only once a year. People don’t usually eat latkes the rest of the year.”

Which begs the question, why NOT make them instead of hash browns or whenever a glorified form of fried potatoes would add panache to a meal, whether or not you’re Jewish?

Maybe because they’re labor intensive, and there’s a knack to making latkes (pronounced “lot-kuhs,” not “lot-kees”) to get crispy, golden brown patties kissed with onion — versus soggy, oil-soaked starch bombs that aren’t worth the heart trouble.

Volunteers with the temple’s Team Latke brought their bag of tricks to the annual Hanukkah Extravaganza Dec. 9. Jelly doughnuts (sufganiyot) from Dunkin’ Donuts were also served, so everyone got their quota of oil.

Jackie Mild Lau formed Team Latke about five years ago when she was the temple’s president. Before that everyone would make their own kind of latkes at home and bring them to the festivities, but they weren’t cause for celebration, getting cold and soggy en route.

While latkes could certainly be served year round in place of, say, hash browns, Lau said there’s no comparison. While hash browns are a staple at diners and fast-food restaurants, slathered with ketchup, the Jewish version is a homemade specialty enhanced with onions and eggs, and garnished with a dollop of applesauce or sour cream. (Applesauce for traditional Jews is like shoyu to many locals, Lau said.)

The recipe used at the event was not a treasured version passed down through the ages. “Most people don’t follow any recipe … it’s all done by feel,” she said.

“We’re scrabbling a few different recipes together because everyone has his own idea and they’re quite adamant about it!” she said. “So it depends on who’s here and who’s voice wins out. This year it was Nancy’s.”

Nancy Shipley Rubin learned to make them 30 years ago from her father-in-law, who used a little hand grater to shred 10 pounds of potatoes. “But we had to abandon the grater because we kept bleeding too much into the latkes,” she added, citing a family joke that “a little blood adds to the flavor!” Now she uses a juicing machine, especially when feeding a crowd.

Lau and volunteer Bill Sage, who has made latkes at home with his wife, said they preferred the texture of potatoes grated by hand versus a food processor, but with so many people to cook for, they were using Rubin’s juicer.

Then, because texture seemed most important to everyone — latkes can’t be too mushy — all the liquid was squeezed from the grated potatoes into a bowl.

That liquid separates into water and a thick starch, which accumulates at the bottom of the bowl. A tip, Rubin said, is to collect that starch and add it to the latke batter, along with some flour or matzo meal, to bind the ingredients.

Three electric skillets and three cast-iron pans were used at the Hanukkah celebration, but Lau said electric skillets generally work better because the temperature can be regulated at 375 to 400 degrees, and most have a nonstick coating.

Still, she said, “You need to use plenty of oil. I tried the minimal amount of oil because it was unhealthy, but it doesn’t work because it sticks all over the pan.”

But she referred to a quote from the 1996 “A Rugrats Chanukah” television special: “The miracle is these (latkes) have clogged our people’s arteries for 2,000 years,” and added, “so what’s a few more?”

Actually, Lau explained, the miracle is that a cruse — a small vessel — of sacred olive oil, just enough to light a menorah for a day, lasted eight days when a small Jewish army reclaimed the temple of Jerusalem from the powerful Syrian-Greek forces.

Anothter latke tip: Lau has found it better to drain excess oil on butcher paper rather than paper towels, which hold onto the oil and make the latkes soggy.

Rubin adds a final suggestion: She says a Hebrew prayer when she cooks anything, so that it tastes good.

After hours of peeling, grinding and frying potatoes, and making sure the latkes tasted right, “we smell like latkes, and we don’t feel like eating any more latkes that day,” Lau said.

But it’s worth it, as food fried in oil has always been a bit of heaven. “We love it. It’s a special thing and it’s something that ties us to our families and ancestors. It’s part of the memories of growing up.”

Basic Latkes

Jackie Mild Lau offered this recipe to use as a starting point, from “All-of-a-Kind Family Hanukkah” by Emily Jenkins (Schwartz & Wade, 2018)

• 5-6 medium white potatoes
• 2 medium onions
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1/4 cup flour
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• Vegetable oil, for pan-frying
• Applesauce or sour cream (to garnish)

Grate potatoes and onions by hand or with a food processor. Wring out in cheesecloth or clean dish towel to remove as much moisture as possible.

Combine potatoes and onions in large bowl with eggs, flour, salt and pepper.

Cover a large, heavy skillet in about 1/4 inch oil; heat. Use a large spoon to drop potato mixture into pan and flatten to form round patties about 3 inches wide. Fry until brown on bottom, flattening with back of spoon, then flip to fry the other side. Serve hot with garnishes. Makes 2 dozen.

Approximate nutritional information, per latke: 130 calories, 10 g total fat, 1.5 g saturated fat, 15 mg cholesterol,15 mg sodium, 10 g carbohydrate, 1 g fiber, 1 g sugar, 2 g protein.

Note: Leftover fried latkes should be frozen to reheat later; refrigeration makes them soggy.