Making Challah

Braiding a 4-strand challah with Annette.

Patrick and I are at a cottage on Madeline Island (on the coast of Lake Superior) with our friends Annette and Chris. There is minimal intermittent internet service, no tv, and spotty cell service. This is as off-the-grid as I can stand. To reward myself, I decided to spend the day pretty much in the kitchen. I decided to make challah for Shabbat, and a huge mezze spread for dinner. The challah was from Sara Simpser's recipe, and it turned out a-mazing! I think it's a good step toward taking on the mitzvah of challah, which includes using at least 5 lbs of flour (now I know that there were huge Shabbat meals in ancient Israel, because using the minimum quantity to fulfill the mitzvah makes like 6-8 challahs!). I haven't decided when in the process to freeze the extra loaves (before baking but after braiding and the final rise, I am thinking), but I think sometime in the next few weeks I am going to do the full Monty.

The final product-- gorgeous!

Praying for Strength

Giving up pork is a really hard thing to do. Not for everyone, I am sure, but it is for me. Honestly, I've never been very good with self-denial when it comes to food. I always rationalized my eating pork as falling into the category of "Well, I won't make it in my house, but if there's bacon on a breakfast menu somewhere, that's okay...." Then when Patrick came into the picture, we occasionally made pork or bacon, but I always felt guilty afterwards.... sort of. Not so guilty that I didn't eat it, but guilty in that "Oh I know it's bad for me but it's soooooo tasty" kind of way.
Now after the JWRP trip to Israel, I'm trying to give up pork. I am not always successful, but I still try. I had no idea it would be this hard. Patrick and I went to dinner tonight at our favorite neighborhood place, Cafe Levain. They have a special Sunday night prix-fixe menu, but tonight I had to have the vegetarian version because the only animal protein offered on the regular version was pork! I was unbelievably bummed. The funny thing is that I was resentful because I was forced to restrict my selections even further than I wanted-- I only wanted to give up pork, not all meat!
That's why I am praying for strength. This is one of my tests as surely as Sara Yocheved Rigler talked about the day before we left Jerusalem. The issue of kashrus is more squarely in my choice box than ever before. I guess I should be grateful that I'm even working on it, when it used to be a harder choice than I was able to face.

BD

Holding to a Higher Standard

Ever since I learned about this sting in New Jersey on Friday, I have been thinking about it. A lot. Rabbis from some orthodox congregations are caught up in a money laundering scheme, millions of dollars passing around, politicians involved (shocker). I feel sick about it.

I remember when I was a young woman, the rabbi at the conservative synagogue I attended growing up was accused of sexually improper behavior. I was devastated... and he wasn't even "my" rabbi. All I could think of was, "What??? Rabbis don't do that!" It wasn't that I didn't believe it, more that it shook my foundation of what a rabbi was supposed to be. Rabbis are put out there as higher on the spiritual ladder. I put them as higher on the spiritual ladder. Yes, I admit it, I hold them to a higher standard. And the orthodox rabbis? Even more so.

I should explain myself as saying that the reform and conservative (and reconstructionist and secular humanist and whatever nonorthodox branches you can come up with) rabbis seem more... human to me. I can see their foibles, their weaknesses and accept them easily. They live in the same world that I do, and I understand all the temptations therein. The orthodox rabbis? Somehow they seem not really living of this world. Their visual cues mark them as closer to G-d, as ones who follow the mitzvot far more than I do. In my opinion, when you put on all the trappings of an observant Jew and are a rabbi on top of it, then yes, you open yourself up to being held to a higher standard. Hillul Hashem, desecrating the name of G-d, is so much worse when you have the appearance of one who is religious. I wonder if that is why my feelings of shock and yes, even disgust, are deeper now than with the other fallen rabbi of my past.

I still feel like I'm struggling for clarity. I'm not done with this. Not by a long shot. Thoughts?

BD

The amazing KOOZA

Last night Patrick and I went to KOOZA, the current traveling show of Cirque du Soleil. I can't believe I almost let them leave without seeing them. It was only because they extended their showings here for another two weeks that we got the chance. We've been out of town so much that I just felt too swamped, but as soon as I got the email about the extra shows, I got tickets.

I always seem to forget how magical Cirque is, but then the lights go down and I just find myself in this whimsical world where people can do things with their bodies, twist and turn and jump and balance, in ways that I never thought possible. The costumes are seductive-- not in a sexy way, but they draw me in with their colors and feathers and textures and swirls and I just want to touch them, run my fingers over the satin and velvet for hours. I am continually amazed by the feats these athletes perform, shaking my head at how they keep pushing the envelope of what the human form is capable of. Sometimes I forget to clap, because I am still awed by the juggler, the tumbler, the men traversing the giant metal circles, the man who balances on eleven chairs stacked upon each other, the couple who twirl and swirl and tumble over and around one another WHILE the man RIDES A UNICYCLE for G-d's sake!

I mean, come on! I have to clumsily navigate this world, stumbling around on my own two dreaded feet like an oaf, knocking into walls and groping about, while these people glide and bend and shift and slither through their world. Where's the fairness in that? I've decided I am just going to spend my days sitting in the audience, because when I am sitting still, I can at least let a part of me imagine that I could do that, I could be a part of their world. Then the lights come up, and I am jolted back to reality. Sigh.

BD

Recipe of the week- Tahini cookies

Recently I made these cookies, for which our culinary tour guide extraordinarie Abbie Rosner gave me the recipe (grammatical nod to my m-i-l). They were delicious. I was a bit skeptical as the dough seemed sort of crumbly, and the cookies turned out very short (as in crumbly), but my friend Dawn's kids devoured them (and Trinity told me they were her favorite part of the whole day, so who wouldn't love that??). Bonus-- they are great for kids who are peanut allergic.

Tahini Cookies

Mix together:
3 cups flour
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1 cup sugar
1 cup tahini (not seasoned!)
1 3/4 sticks of butter

Form into cookie-sized balls and cross-flatten with a fork (like peanut butter cookies). Bake at 350 degrees until light brown – about 15-20 minutes (my oven needed to be set at 375 degrees, so oven temps may vary) - watching carefully that they don't burn.

I actually added some Ghirardelli chocolate chips to the tops before baking, and they tasted yummy. Next time I'll experiment with add-ins to the dough itself.

Hope you try them! Thanks, Abbie!!!

BD

Energize Me!

Last night we had our first Jewish Women's Renaissance Project reunion meeting. Wow, are we one scattered bunch. We have so much energy when we get together, and are so excited to see one another and share information, it's like we're one giant bunch of stuttering first-graders after our first day of school! I am very excited about our plan to bring Lori Palatnik back to the Twin Cities for a weekend in October. It will be a huge undertaking, committees and planning and work and the like, but it should be AMAZING. I want so many people to hear the classes I heard. She really is a fantastic speaker.

BD

Kahle Quest Interloper

I got an email from an old high school friend a few months back. She and her husband and their children had plans to travel to all 50 states in the new family RV before her older one (now 8) graduates from high school. They were landing briefly in Minnesota sometime this summer-- would I have time to meet??

Of course, assuming I am in town (not a good bet this summer at all). As luck would have it, Dawn, Dan, Kate, Barrett, and cousin Trinity were arriving this weekend, the one weekend this month we are actually here! We made arrangements to meet them at Minnehaha Falls, and lunch at Sea Salt.

What fun we had. Sea Salt was, thank G-d, devoid of the ever-present lines that stretch out the door.... at least it was until about ten minutes after we ordered. So lucky, because often the lines cause a wait of over an hour, and even though Dawn's children are amazingly well-behaved, I think a lunch wait of an hour would stretch even Mother Teresa.

Fried seafood all around (except for my crawfish roll, which was terrific). I loved the fried shrimp. Everyone enjoyed their food except for Barrett, who didn't like the fried catfish. I can't blame him, as I usually think catfish tastes kinda muddy.

The kids loved my tahini cookies that I brought for dessert (they taste an awful lot like peanut butter, but are safe for kids with nut allergies). In fact, Trinity said it was her favorite part of the day (who doesn't like a kid who sucks up like that?).

We walked to the falls..... and horror of horrors, they were dry!! I have never seen them that way! Patrick, who has grown up here and has seen the falls a dozen plus times, has never seen them that way. I was pretty stunned until I read the plaque that mentions President Johnson's visit, and how the falls were dry that day but the city opened up a series of fire hydrants upstream so they could get a photo op with actual gushing water. I am so sorry Dawn, if I'd known I'd have made a couple of fire hydrant stops before we met up!!

We had great fun, even riding one of those canopied six-person bike thingies (quite a workout, or it would have been had we stayed on it longer than eight minutes). They are awfully brave to navigate the country with three kids in an RV. I give them all the credit in the world. I need to start reading Dawn's blog, to follow their adventures.

I can't sign off without mentioning how incredibly well behaved these three kids are. I've retired Mean Mommy Doc for a while, but this afternoon really makes me want to resurrect it. None of them whined. None of them wheedled. She had them waiting to eat until our food arrived, and it was another eight or ten minutes. Not a word from one of them. Dawn, you are a true Mean Mommy, and I salute you!!

BD

A week home

I can't believe it has been a week since I've been home. Have I been away from Israel that long already? In some ways I feel like it was just yesterday. In others it feels like it was eons ago. Outside of work I have continued to wear skirts, and cover my hair with a scarf. Is this something I can continue? I do seem to feel more... settled this way.

Shabbas dinner tonight at Aish, with women from the trip. A sort of mini reunion, allowing us to meet and mingle with our families. Should be a wonderful time.

BD

First Shabbat Home

We got home this afternoon around 2 pm. Security in Israel went fine, although I think Patrick was waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was a moment when they pulled out one of our luggages and started to search it. I went up to see what was going on, and Patrick kept saying, "You need to not be here." I think he was afraid they would detain him, and he didn't want me to be associated with him. How sweet. There was no way I was going to let him be alone for a minute. It turned out that there was a book that they pulled out and examined, rubbed with their detector, then put right back and sent us on our way. Weird, I know. But that's El Al security.

The flight was 13 hours of cramped misery, bad food, and a seatmate on Patrick's other side who kept needing to go to the bathroom. I thought she was going to ask to sit in my aisle seat, but there was no way I was giving that up (another thing I have in common with my good friend Class-Factotum).

We arrived in Newark at 5:30 in the morning. We were done with everything and on our way to the next gate by 7:30, including the trip back through security that my sweet Patrick made so that we could check a third bag in order to save the Tishbi Winery jelly we bought for my Dad. We had it in our carry on from Tel Aviv, which was fine since we bought it in the duty free shop, but we got stopped in security in Newark. Our choices were to go back and check one of our carry ons, or to let it go. Since my Dad worked at the Tishbi winery as a teenager, I was very loath to let it go. We had like 4 hours before our flight, so Patrick my hero volunteered to go back through and check it (well, I sort of volunteered him since I had already checked my allotment of 2 free bags, but he went mostly willingly).

So we arrived home about 2 pm (Thanks, T, for picking us up!), and went to Tanya and Mike's house for Shabbat. Alina and her family were there, so it was a mini-reunion of our group. Tanya made the most delicious dishes spiced with the blends she picked up in Israel, so even the food was a continuation of the trip. Saying the blessings, lighting the candles, the spirit of Shabbat was felt so acutely. It was a beautiful reminder of how the trip inspired me, and a great way to mark my transition back to life here. I hope I can contnue to keep that connection.

BD

Getting Ready to Head Home

We woke up with the sun... well, maybe a little later than that. I know the whole deal is "Sunrise on Masada," but the cable car doesn't begin until 8 am, and the only way up before sunrise is the snake path. I did the snake path once, when I was 17, so I unequivocally do not need to ever do it again. I saw a 14 year old who had gone up sitting, red-faced and huffing, as I strolled off the cable car. My thought? "It's good to be a grownup."

I think Patrick really enjoyed Masada (except for my broken record of "the heat, the heat"). I showed him some of the ruins, and we spent a half hour wandering around, reading the information and listening in on other guides' lectures. We went to visit the Masada Museum, which I would highly recommend. The audio guides operate on GPS technology, so as you walk from room to room, the guides automatically change. It's a very experiential exhibition, with lots of life-size statues combined with some of the excavated artifacts. Really nicely done. All my kudos to Yigael Yadin for excavating one of the most important sites in Jewish history, and preserving it for all of us to visit and appreciate and remember.

We drove on to Ein Bokek, where Patrick experienced for the first time the weirdness that is the Dead Sea. Ein Bokek is the southernmost beach, and supposedly had some nice sandy beachfront, but the part we were at had more rocks than the site I visited with the JWRP. I was a bit bummed, because I knew what it could have been, but Patrick seemed more fascinated by the water, and didn't seem to mind. The sea feels so oily from all the minerals, and the lovely aroma of sulfur lingers in the air, but it's all part of the experience. This time I gleefully rinsed off completely, not leaving one trace of the minerals behind. It may have not been as wonderful for my skin as leaving the stuff on, but this time I didn't care! Ha!

Driving back to Petah Tikva took longer than we planned, due to road construction and traffic. We had hoped to be able to visit Aviyam in Ramat Gan, but that was also before we had to visit the Dead Sea today instead of yesterday. We just ran out of time. I'm repacking as Patrick and Ilan go to return the car. All the fragile items in the carry on, some other stuff sandwiched between the clothes. We'll take Ilan to dinner before we head off to the airport.

I've put Patrick on alert that when we go through security, I am to answer all questions. I truly believe that if I shepherd us through, he won't be detained like he was on the way out. Anyone want to take bets? I think El Al profiles like crazy, looking for people who stand out, especially people who stand out and are not Jewish. Being the right-winger that I am when it comes to this issue, I'm okay with that. Unfortunately, Patrick traveling by himself, with almost no luggage, not being able to throw out phrases like "davening at the Kotel" or pronouncing "Petah Tikva, Givat Shmuel, and Ramat Gan" with the appropriate accent, stands out. My poor baby. I really think the travel back will not be a problem.

I'll let you know.

BD