I’ll have mine sliced

October 6, 2008 - 9:20 PM by · Leave a Comment
Filed under: A New Reality, Food, General 

Round_Challah.jpgAs the country gears up for Yom Kippur, beginning on Wednesday night, the preparations are happening all over the place, in varied ways. There’s the greeting that people use during this time of year, when they say Gmar chatima tova, or chatima tova, meaning, may you be written in the Book of Life. That’s a switch from last week, when people were just saying Shana Tova, or Happy New Year. Chatima tova is kind of a heavy greeting to be tossing out to everyone you see, and you gotta hope that it’s heartfelt, because otherwise, what book will you end up in?

And those are just the greetings. There are those of us who are seriously thinking about repentance and forgiveness. And there are those of us who are thinking about the 35th anniversary of the Yom Kippur War. And then there are those of us, yours truly included, who are thinking about the food needs for the next five days, given that Yom Kippur ends and then Shabbat begins. I’m thinking about it because of a food incident last week, before Rosh Hashanah.

I was at Rafi, our local bakery, to buy challot for the chag. Truth to tell, I don’t usually like their challot, but I do like their babka, and in the interest of time, we were willing to eat their challot for the holiday. So I got there at 10:30 am on erev chag, which is usually early enough to have your pick of the challot, and lo and behold, there were no challot to be had. The shelves were empty and people were lined up at the counter, waiting for the huge, round challot to come out of the oven. I got lucky, and snagged one tremendous challah right away, and then a fresh batch came out of the oven, fulfilling all of my challah needs.

But as I was waiting to pay, an American guy runs in, bicycle helmet still on his head, and asks, in English, if there’s any sliced challah available, or if the bakery has a slicing machine. A hush immediately sets in over the crowd. Who would want their challah pre-sliced? What kind of person is this? The owner, of course, said no, because who ever wants their challah pre-sliced?

The saga continued. He called his wife from his cellphone, asking if she still wanted challah given that it wouldn’t be pre-sliced. “Yes, yes, I promise I’ll slice it very carefully, you’ll never know that it wasn’t sliced in a machine,” he told her. “If they don’t slice it here, I can’t imagine that there’ll be another bakery where they do.” The rest of us looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders, because, hey, clearly there’s no bakery that slices challah ahead of time.

Anyway, I took my pile of challot home, where they all got eaten (torn, not sliced), and now I’m thinking that I’d better get to the bakery much earlier on Wednesday, and on Friday. Because I’ll tell you one thing: I may not like their rest-of-the-year challot, but their High Holiday challot? Fab-o.

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Back to nature

October 5, 2008 - 9:05 AM by · Leave a Comment
Filed under: General, History and Culture, Holidays, Religion, Travel 

sataf.jpgThe Shabbat between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur is referred to as ‘Shabbat Shuva’ – literally, a return to God and one’s self. Falling during the ten days of repentance, it’s the time for introspection and reflection, ahead of the upcoming Yom Kippur fast.

While we usually observe Shabbat Shuva at our synagogue in Jerusalem, this year, we decided on a more novel approach – a scenic hike along Sataf, in the Jerusalem hills.

Located only a few minutes outside of Jerusalem, close to Hadassah Hospital, Ein Kerem, Sataf is a 250-acre thing of beauty, maintained by the Jewish National Fund. The downhill trail along the terraced mountainside includes the remains of a 4,000 BCE Chalcolithic village with some of the oldest agricultural traces in the region, the remains of a pre-1948 Arab village, an observation post overlooking the western entrance to Jerusalem, an abundance of fig and olive trees, and the Ein Sataf water spring.

According to the site, Gems in Israel, most of the remains found in Sataf are from the Byzantine era.

There is no mention of a village named Sataf in the Bible and the first occurrence of the name in writing, is from Ein Karem, during the Mamluk era. Most of the remains found in the Sataf are from the Byzantine era. The Arab village of Sataf numbered about 450 people around the middle of the 19th century. A short time after the War of Independence, a small group of immigrants from North Africa settled here – but they were only here for a few months. Later, the area served as a training area for the IDF’s 101st and paratrooper units. In 1985, the KKL-JNF began the restoration of ancient agricultural practices in the area, with the help JNF supporters from Switzerland.

The primary crops in the Judean Hills in ancient times included vineyards, olives, figs and pomegranates. In this rocky-hilly region, dry farming (which relies only on rainfall for irrigation) was practiced using an elaborate system of terraces and tunnels. The springs here were not plentiful, so the existing water supply had to maximized. This was achieved by tunneling into the water-bearing strata. An ingenious system of channels (parts of which are clearly visible) conducted the water that was stored in large pools to the terraced plots.

The place was packed with nature-loving Israelis, some taking advantage of the bicycle rental stand in the parking lot, to cycle down the steep road circling the terraces. But the hiking trails – ranging from 500 yards to two miles – are the main attraction. The trail floors of full of brown pine needles, reminding me of new England hikes of yore. And when you reach the bottom, and the Sataf pool, there’s a short water tunnel that the two seven-year-olds in tow had no problem going through at least 15 times in an hour, in between munching on a picnic lunch.

Despite the hordes of hikers, the trail didn’t feel congested, and until we reached the pool, we rarely saw anyone else. And unlike many public Israeli situations, these outdoor enthusiasts were respectful of both the surroundings and the people around them. No litter, loud music or barbecues here.

I even got a few moments alone to contemplate the year, the world and myself. I might have been able to do the same at ‘beit knesset’, but the surroundings at Sataf were certainly more inspiring. Now if we could only figure out a way to get there for Yom Kippur without driving, that would sure be a fast to remember.

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Shana tova u’metuka

September 28, 2008 - 9:00 PM by · Leave a Comment
Filed under: General, History and Culture, Holidays, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Religion 

There’s no question that Rosh Hashana cheer is in the air, whether it’s signing off of every conversation with a Shana Tova salutation, wishing a Shana Tova to each clerk, salesperson or person that one meets, and the number of Shana Tova emails — not to mention the round challahs and apples and honey gifts on Facebook — that are arriving in the email inbox.

The streets are crowded with people, shopping all the time, for food, gifts, last-minute outfits, and the planners who are already picking up decorations for their sukkah.

What I always like about Rosh Hashana in Israel, as well as Yom Kippur and Sukkot (and all the rest of the calendar year, for that matter), is that they are holidays for everyone, secular or religious. Sure, some of us spend a lot of time in synagogues during this month-long holiday period, thinking about personal repentance and ancient piyutim, and that’s our choice. Many don’t. But nearly everyone in Israel is celebrating in some way, sharing special meals with family and friends, buying “shay l’chag“, holiday gifts for one’s hairdresser, accountant, travel agent or clients, cleaning up the house and yard before the onslaught of guests, and thinking of creative ways to use honey or new fruits.

I suppose that for me, it comes down to the fact that no matter how many years I’ve been living here, I still derive a little thrill at how different it feels to celebrate one’s new year in September rather than January. It feels different to say Shana Tova U’Metuka, rather than Happy New Year. It feels different to toss around pomegranate seeds, rather than glitter at midnight.

So here’s to a happy new year for all Israelity readers and bloggers, and finding your kind of celebration. Sweetness and happiness in 5768.

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