Smith Magazine has teamed up with Reboot (the people who brought you the National Day of Unplugging and Sukkah City) to bring you “Six Words on Jewish life.” Submit your six-word memoir (www.smithmag.net/jewish) by January 4th for a shot at being included in the book and a guarantee at being on the website.

Not sure where to start? We’re so glad you asked.  Some of the staff at NEXT have teamed up to provide you a list of their own six-word memoirs:

Ruvym ~ Russian family, still fears nonexistent KGB

Terissa ~ Single?! You should meet my son!

Emily ~ Once Kosher-style Texan loves pulled pork.

We’ve asked Jewish educators and organizations all over North America to add a fifth question to the Seder – one that will inspire us to make Passover meaningful for today’s Jewish world.  Find out more about our 5th Question project.

This 5th Question comes from Hazon -

“kol dichfin yaitai v’yaichul – let all who are hungry come and eat…”

Seder night means more Jews eating together than any other night of the year. We say a lot about freedom and we eat the matzah – but where does the food that we eat at the Seder actually come from; and to what extent does it reflect our deepest values, in eating as a free people in a free country….?

Hazon means vision.  As an organization, they’re committed to creating healthy and sustainable communities in the Jewish world and beyond. They do this in three primary ways: transformative experiences for individuals and communities; thought leadership in the fields of Jewish and environmental knowledge; support of the Jewish environmental movement in North America and Israel. They’re programs are multi-generational and give entry points for Jews of all backgrounds who are concerned about the environment and the world. Hazon serves a national and international population; members of every denomination and those who are unaffiliated; intergenerational from children to seniors – including families and singles, with a particular focus on young adults interested in developing the skills to take on leadership roles in their communities and make a difference in the world.

Photo by RonAlmog, licensed under Creative Commons.

For some people the decision is easy, and for others it’s a little more complicated.  To keep Kosher or not to keep Kosher is a question that many Jews grapple with for certain.  As you make up your mind about the issue, here are a few Jewish and Kosher Food links that we found interesting…

• The Jew and the Carrot – a blog about Jews, Food, and Contemporary Issues.
• The Detroit Free Press reports on taking a business Kosher.
• An Alef writer discusses why she eats the other white meat.
• One blogger’s Jewish Food Cookbook.
• Huffington Post excerpt from Sue Fishkoff’s book, Kosher Nation: Why More and More of America’s Food Answers to a Higher Authority.

For more on Jewish Food, check out Alef’s Issue #23: Why I Eat What I Eat.

Photo by BecomingJewish.org, licensed under Creative Commons.

Here’s a quick breakdown of what to expect from all this chatter:

Grogger
The grogger is traditionally the noisemaker of choice for congregants and party-goers alike while listening to the story of Esther, used to drown out the sound of the name “Haman,” the villain in question.   For some, they’re also a sign of drunken revelry.  For the reading of the megillah, listeners are strongly urged to drink to the point of confusion between the good guy (Mordechai) and the villain (Haman).

Hamantaschen
Yes, there will be food.  You may recognize these triangle-shaped, jelly-filled cookies (see above) from bakery shelves all year round, but they are actually the signature treat of Purim.

Megillah
“Megillah” is the generic term for a scroll but is traditionally used to describe the biblical writings. Among these is the story of Purim found in the Book of Esther, which will be told and celebrated in Purim Spiels all over the land.

Alef is joining in the celebration with a few bits to get you through the holiday, like this video from the Maccabeats (made famous by their Hanukkah-ized interpretation of the song “Dynamite”) or this Purim Spoof of The Jewish Week. Stay tuned.

Photo by Plutor, licensed under Creative Commons.

When we talk about how people choose to eat on Alef, usually we’re referring to Jews keeping kosher,  making changes to live sustainably, or even just deciding where to buy their lox.

This week, we’ve discovered a whole new category of person sharing the reasons behind why they eat what they eat.  The Shiksa in the Kitchen, Tori Avey, is a Jew by choice with a keen eye for Jewish cuisine.  Her blog is downright full of mouthwatering recipes that might just change the way you cook and eat.

Photo by Zawezome, licensed under Creative Commons.

Read more from our “Why I Eat What I Eat” Series.

By Anna Fishman

“Food is our common ground, a universal experience”
~James Beard

My ten day trip to Israel peaked on day three at Mahane Yehuda market in Jerusalem. Established in the 19^th century on an empty lot, the market was one of the only available shopping destinations for residents outside the Old City. Today, rows upon rows of stalls between Jaffa Road and Agrippas Street sell tables of fresh fruits, piles of nuts, buckets of brilliant spices, bricks of soft white cheese, and even non-food items like shoes and belts. Luckily, the market was relatively empty during my visit- no lines and easy access to the piles of fresh pita with and without za’atar, fluffy jelly donuts, and filo pastries at evenly spaced bakeries. While meandering from vendor to vendor, an intense grazing reverie was interrupted. I was literally double fisting a lafa falafel and a piece of fluffy white halvah as the comment, “Israeli food is so boring,” floated above the market hum.

And no, this was not the opinion of a homesick travel companion who missed hamburgers and pork ribs. Rather, the statemen came from a 20 year old local with an itch to travel to the US after his service in the army. Ironic- here I was, thinking that American food is boring. How could he possibly think that a country with such an amazing market has mundane cuisine? Taking a step back, I considered his though. Israeli food is very basically Mediterranean- grilled meat, olives, pickled vegetables, hummus, pita, lafa, falafel, and shakshuka, are staples. Foreign food that could inject variety into local cuisine isn’t highly evolved.

I was beginning to see the Israeli’s point. One thing can be said for American cuisine- we are foreign food connoisseurs. After copious amounts of travel, I came to the realization that no other country matches our infamous ability to rip off another’s national dish and make it better. Ever tried a softer, chewier bagel than one in New York? Certainly not in Eastern Europe, home of this boiled carbohydrate, where it lacks texture and bite. How about General Tso’s Chicken, one of the most popular menu items in Chinese restaurants? Completely invented in the US. Ironically, this dish has backpedaled its way to China in Beijing’s tourist restaurants. Pizza? So much better in New York than Rome. Indian, Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese… all are available even in medium-sized US cities. Perhaps this is what my new Israeli friend was referring to?

He clarified, “I can get pita in the US if I want.” Hold on, buddy. Ethnic food aside, if you think for a second that the soft, chewy, fluffy pita from an Israeli market can be found readily in the US… then dream on. If you’re lucky, a warm pita may be hunted down at a decent Mediterranean restaurant. In neighborhood grocery stores where more Americans shop, you’ll find only dense, cold, crumbly pre-packaged pita that tastes more like cardboard than bread. And hummus? Even at even the most modest Israeli shawarma stand, hummus tastes like fluffy silk- so readily available it is taken for granted. Meanwhile, in the US, your best bet is Sabra in a plastic container- unless you know where to dine, you risk encounters with runny hummus, chunky hummus, or over-salted hummus. At the end of the conversation, I just couldn’t agree that Israeli food was boring… the quality alone is fascinating. I suspect when my friend leaves his country, he’ll be entertained with trying new foods for a few months. But then he’ll miss the accessibility of fresh, juicy pomegranate, soft figs, and fresh bread. Demonstrating my point, I waved my last bit of lafa back and forth saying, “Oh, you’ll miss this,” referring to the impossibly tenderness of the flatbread.

Then it hit me. Food itself is not boring- it’s really only the perception of the food that earns the label “mundane.” My Israeli friend was apparently bored with the pita and grilled meat that I couldn’t stop consuming… I’m bored with the French fries and hot dogs that he can’t wait to try. It’s this disconnect that touches the heart of travel, which isn’t really about the place or the food itself, but about the willingness to embrace your personal novelty. While walking away from the market with my new friend, I munched on a second piece of impossibly airy, sweet halvah- in a few months he’ll probably be noshing on a footlong and a pile of fries with a smile as large as mine is right now… that smile is the shared understanding.

…..

Photos provided by Julien Menichini, licensed under Creative Commons.

Click here to read more from our “Why I Eat What I Eat” series.

By Rafi Samuels-Schwartz

We’re standing in the back of a small New York establishment, learning the finer points of how to eat Herring, when Niki Russ Federman looks up at the portrait of her great-grandfather, Joel Russ, hanging on the wall of her shop, Russ & Daughters.

In a sense, this is true.  Today both a pastrami-on-rye as well as bagels-and-lox are celebrated, if not revered, by American Jews trying to connect with the tastes of Eastern Europe’s “Old World” Jewish communities by eating what they call “deli” food.  And, while ordering a brisket sandwich can be a delicious way to commune with the past, you simply can’t appreciate “Old World” food without understanding the distinct “appetizing” history, and terminology, of  bagels and lox, smoked salmon, herring, and fancy cream cheeses; the food Niki’s great-grandfather Joel sold from his pushcart 95 years ago, and the food that she still sells today, in the store that bears her family name.

In some ways Russ & Daughters, one of the last of New York’s “appetizing stores” is an anomaly: an American store devoted to the particularly Old World specialty of forshpayz, the cold appetizers many Jews ate before their full meals. That Russ & Daughters exists today is both a testament to the quality of their lox, and the dedication of their many fans, both young and old.  Niki tells a story of hiking a trail in California, only to be stopped, chatted, and ultimately thanked by fellow hikers who noticed her Russ & Daughters t-shirt.

“It’s not just about the food,” she explains. “There are all these stories wrapped up,” She notes that most encounters, like the one on the California hiking trail, follow the same pattern: “[people say] ‘Oh, I love that place. And then they tell a story.’” It’s these stories that makes Russ &  Daughters so special,  infusing the shop with an air of authenticity and Old World street-cred, and earning Russ & Daughters’ blog, Lox Populi, a webby award this past year.

As we browse toward the back of the shop a customer turns, and without prompting, remarks that he comes to Russ & Daughters because it represents a “living food tradition” in a way that grocery stores can’t. Introducing himself as Mark, he goes on to order pickled herring, mustard dill herring, and a little bit of bright yellow curry herring as well. We chat for several minutes, and Mark explains that he sees the food at Russ & Daughters as a form of soul (sole?) food.

As I turn to examine the jars of jams and jellies lining the back wall Mark begins to leave, but is caught by Niki who gives him a big hug. While the the name of the shop refers to Joel Russ’ children, it’s clear that in Russ & Daughters everyone feels like family. We ask Niki about her own familial connection to the Old Country. She explains that she has “herring in her blood” and that working in the shop, surrounded by the food eaten by Jews for centuries, “reinforces who we are in the most primal way.” And, how does Niki feel about the portrait of her great-grandfather Joel looking down over the counter?

“I like that I have to think about him all the time.”

Before we leave, Niki gives us a Holland Herring to sample. Almost entirely uncooked, and covered with diced onions, this is forshpayz “in the raw.” As we sit together eating the fish, I hear other customers toward the front of store laugh, and wish us L’chiam, “to life!” It may be 2009, and we may be on New York’s Lower East Side, but it’s clear that the spirit of the Old Country is alive and well. We can practically taste it.

Thumbnail photo by J_bary, licensed under Creative Commons.

By Rella K.

I have a love-hate relationship with food.

I don’t think most of my friends know there is a “hate” side to my relationship with food. I’m an avid food blogger. I’m always trying new dishes, new foods, new ingredients. I’ll frequently spend an entire Sunday just cooking and baking, and then a host 5-course dinner party.

I grew up in a community that put an incredible amount of stress on being thin. Everyone I knew was on a diet; some were pretty ordinary like limiting fat intake and eating lots of fruits and vegetables. Some were pretty ridiculous like eating nothing other than rice cakes for an entire 8-hour day of school. And then there were the dangerous eating habits—the severe limitations on food intake, and the throwing up in the bathroom after lunch. [And by the way, this all started in middle school].

When I was in the tenth grade one of my classmates spent a summer in a clinic being treated for an eating disorder. I think she was lucky—at least her parents were willing to admit to her problem. For so many other girls I knew, disordered eating patterns were just par for the course. Because really, if you weren’t a size 2 nobody would want to marry you (or at least that’s the message we got).

I’m not going to lie; I thought about following in the footsteps of those around me. I was overweight throughout most of high school, perhaps unconsciously trying to counteract what I was seeing around me with all the restrictions people put on their own appetites. Objectively I knew (and know) that skipping meals or throwing up is bad, and I never did it, but it didn’t stop me from thinking that maybe that had it right. Luckily college was a breath of fresh air, and I think the reduced stress contributed to my dropping a significant number of pounds I had been unable to shed for years before.

Hence, my love-hate relationship with food. Truth be told, the love wins out most of the time (luckily). I receive immense pleasure from writing and photographing for my food blog; I love when my friends call me their “recipe guru;” and I find that after a stressful day at work, whipping up a batch of sumptuous chocolate chip banana nut muffins is relaxing, even cathartic.

Still, I sometimes get an inkling in the back of my mind after I have a meal I know is high in calories and fat. Don’t get me wrong, I eat in a very healthy manner, and I cook for myself a lot so I know exactly what goes into things. But I eat out at restaurants, and I have meals at friend’s houses, and as much as I hate it, I think about every bite I put in my mouth.

Do I wish I didn’t obsess about food so much? Maybe. But I wonder if my obsession ultimately led me to discover how passionate I am about food, cooking, and blogging about it. Sure, I’d prefer I hadn’t grown up in such a toxic environment, but I’m a firm believer that our experiences shape who we are. And I’m happy with who I am today.

…

Image provided by Dan4th, licensed under Creative Commons.

Click here to read more from our “Why I Eat What I Eat” series.

There’re few things that make Alef happier than good food.  That’s why we were pretty bummed we weren’t invited to this NEXT Shabbat meal in LA.  While we’re not sure the hostess’ estimate of “85 tons of pita” is a totally trustworthy description of her Shabbat menu, our mouths were watering at the rest of her Shabbat spread.   Don’t believe us?  Tuck in your bib, this Shabbat meal is drool-worthy:

The Hostess With the Mostest (Hummus)

I like having guests over. Blame it on my mother – after all, she is Martha Jewart. Ever since I was a kid I was raised knowing that there are very specific ways to throw a party. She has very strict rules about how dishes are arranged, what we’re allowed to serve, how food is displayed, etc. When I was little I thought that was ridiculous. “Show me the guest who gives a shit if I put the ketchup bottle on the table without first scooping it into a crystal bowl!” I would scream.

Of course, now I’ve inherited that behavior. So when it came time to throw a special Shabbat dinner for a group of my friends last weekend, you know I went to town…

Continue reading “The Hostest With The Mostest (Hummus)

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Click here to read more from our “Why I Eat What I Eat” series.