… And then it hit me – the bread crumbs. The stuffed mushrooms
were covered with breadcrumbs!
I went to the kitchen right away, where my mother was just
handing a beer opener to my new grandma to open a bottle of beer on Passover
night for her new boyfriend.
“Ma, you can’t do it.” I tried to stop her, but the bottle
was already open.
“Do what?” my mother asked while steering a dish on the
stove.
“Ma, the beer, it is not ok for Passover and the stuffed mushrooms!
They are covered with breadcrumbs! And your brother is eating it now. You know he
keeps kosher!”
My mom turned around and froze for a second. We then both
ran back to the dinner table and watched my maybe new grandfather enjoying his
beer, my uncle looks shocked while watching the beer consumed while eating his
third stuffed mushroom and my father sitting there, with a big smile on his
face encouraging him to eat more. Everybody was busy eating and drinking, besides
my new grandma that kept talking to her almost-fiancé and piling his plate with
more food.
“What should we do?” I whispered to my mother terrified of
what is going to happen soon.
“Well,” she said, “your maybe new grandpa is almost done
with the beer, so no more there, and he is already tipsy.”
“But what about your brother??? He thinks he is eating kosher
stuffed mushrooms!!!” I almost yelled, and my mom pulled me back to the kitchen.
“If you don’t know that it is not kosher, it is ok, and
there is no need to say anything,” she said.
It made sense. Dinner continued while everybody was arguing
with everybody and my father kept feeding my uncle with stuffed mushrooms. I
didn’t have any of this dish, as I was thinking that it will be counted towards
my uncle if there is somebody up there looking at us.
Forty years later – time flies – 2019 I’m living in Seattle,
married to a non-Jew and visit the local Beit Chabad for at least once a month,
for a Shabbat dinner. We also celebrate most of the Jewish holidays together as
a family with a few more people that became our local family. A new community
has been created.
I would never imagine in my wildest dreams, that I will
enjoy the Shabbat ceremony. It is funny that I had to leave Israel to get familiar
with my own religion and tradition. I now make sure to share it with my kids
who were raised away from Israel within a very small family and moved a lot in
the world.
I find the Shabbat nights’ gatherings interesting intellectually
and more than that I love the social idea. Everybody is welcome and treated
respectfully and with a lot of love in the air. Not a religious love, but more
of love for people and acceptance of all.
This Passover, April 2019, we were in Beit Chabad with two
of our kids – successful young adults.
A new family joined us and I immediately fell in love and
felt a connection. A young couple who came
from Israel, from a Russian origin and had a gorgeous three years old sweet
girl.
When introducing themselves they mentioned the fact that this
is their first Passover ever, as their families never celebrated Passover by
reading the Haggadah.
Another circle was closed thanks to the good people of
Chabad Queen Ann, Seattle. Their goal was achieved – a place where people feel welcome
and comfortable to be together and share the Jewish tradition.
I’ll always cherish the gatherings and the new connections
we have established with people that otherwise we would never meet.
Happy Passover, Happy Easter and I hope you are having a
good day!
Oh, wait, I’m sure you will be happy to learn that I did get
a new grandpa, about three months after the Passover dinner.
As for my uncle and the stuffed mushrooms rolled in bread crumbs
– we never told him this story. Remember
what my mother said? If he didn’t know, it is ok. Years later – I’m still
debating with this theory. What do you think?
Cheers, Renata
*** If you enjoyed what you read, it will be great to see
your comments below.
Passover is a big thing for Jews. Lots of cleaning involved
and new rules for a week, such as no leaven or food mixed with leaven – things like
pasta, bread, legumes and beer are a big No No. The house has to be cleaned
from any trace of leaven – it is this time of the year when you really clean
your place – Judaism is a very practical religion. You start your spring literally
clean.
During Passover dinner it is a tradition to read the story
of when the Israelis left Egypt, according to the old testimonial – Haggadah. It
is a fascinating story and it is all about making sure people remember and not
forget their history and where they came from – tradition. It is also about
sitting as a family and friends next to a table full of food and wine. An interesting
fact: four glasses of wine are a must and are part of reading the Haggadah. I
know, I told you, Judaism is a very practical religion. I usually summarize Jewish
holidays in one sentence: “They wanted to kill us, they didn’t succeed, so we
eat!”
I was raised in a very non-religion family. I was a year and
a half old when my parents were kicked out of their jobs and life in Poland and
decided to move to Israel – 1968 following 1967 Six Days war in Israel.
My parents had a choice to move to the States, or Canada or other
places in the world, but they chose to start a new life in Israel, with two
girls and later on a third girl. Funny fact – the three of us are moms to girls
only. We are 11 women in our small family.
I remember Passover tables as a feast of Polish food, this
kind of food that you never have during regular week days.
Passover was different – all the food that we all craved for
during the year, was there on the table. It was all home made and from scratch.
From a stuffed carp fish, a matzah ball chicken soup, three kind of salads, a
beef stew, a chicken dish and four different side dishes. Desserts where never
the highlights of my mom’s cooking, and Passover kosher dietary rule made it
even worse, so we had a “Kompot”
– cold fruits’’ soup. Don’t ask.
Our house was a very
non-kosher house, but on Passovers we agreed that we follow the “no leaven or
food mixed with leaven” rule as a minimum, during the Passover dinner it is.
More than that you could not ask from my father, who was against anything that
had a smell of religion.
As my father refused to follow the tradition of reading the Haggadah,
Passover nights where a night of a pure family gathering, where we saw relatives
that we did not see for a long time and suddenly we got to see all of them
together in one room for four hours. How fun, not.
I was the middle child and as 13 years old, my mother made
sure to keep me busy all the time – cleaning the plates, bringing new dishes,
pouring water or taking care of my younger sister who was too young to help. My
older sister was in her mandatory army service, Israeli Defense Army, so SHE
needed to rest.
That specific Passover night was special – my mom’s mom
moved from Poland to Israel – eleven years after we moved. It was her first
Passover ever and my mom wanted everybody celebrating together in our place as she
was the eldest sister.
The “new grandma,” new as I last met her when I was a year and a half, was already dating a man in the nursing home she moved to when she arrived from Poland, six months ago. My grandma was 77 and he was 71 and she was doing anything she could to make sure he becomes her man. There was a fierce competition on men in the retirement home.
Some of the people who were sitting next to table put a Kippah on their head, as it is
tradition when reading from the Haggadah. My father refused to do the same.
They also brought with them their own copies of the Haggadah to read from and
my father refused to take part of it. I gladly took a copy and made sure I sit
next to them to hear the reading. It was a crowded table, 12 people in a small
condo.
My uncle, my mom’s brother, brought the Haggadah copies, and
was now trying to start the reading while my father continued other discussions
that had nothing to do with the holiday.
I was fascinated. I learned all about it in school and heard
about it from other kids at class, but I never had the experience in my own
household. Weird but true. I always hoped nobody will ask me “How did the Seder
go?” so I will not have to lie. I couldn’t say that we didn’t do the reading.
But still – a table full of Jewish people who are reading a story
about Egyptian Jews and eating Polish food to remember them? It sounded like a
joke. I thought it was hilarious and was waiting for the fun.
My uncle was very serious about the reading and knew what he
was doing. His family was there as well, a wife and two young kids. It looked
like they did it before and are enjoying every minute. This was the first time
we celebrated the holiday together and I knew why – my father never agreed to go
to their place and follow tradition and they didn’t want to come to our place
as no tradition was followed.
New grandma kept piling food on her future husband’s plate,
making sure he eats all the time. The way to a man’s heart is his stomach, or
something like that, right? And boy, he had a stomach. In one point I heard him
asking her if he can have a beer with his food. He was not into wine and the
promise to have four glasses of wine during the evening was not as tempting as having
a cold beer with the dry matzah that were the bread replacement for the night.
My new grandma didn’t hesitate for a second, and off she went
the kitchen, opening the refrigerator where she knew she can find a bottle of a
local beer. My father liked his Fridays’ beer and of course in our household
cleaning the place from any “leaven food products” was not something that was
followed.
At the same time that the beer bottle was getting ready to arrive
the table, I saw my mother putting a beautiful dish in front of my uncle and
father. It was a huge plate of mushrooms that were stuffed with ground beef,
rolled in bread crumbs and fried to perfection. Our small family all loved this
dish and I was suddenly drooling. My uncle took couple of mushrooms and so did my
father, with a very weird smile on his face.
And then it hit me – the bread crumbs. The stuffed mushrooms
were covered with breadcrumbs!
Want to Read more? You will have to wait… To Cont… Tomorrow)
One thing that took me by surprise, when I started online dating, was how quickly some men took early stages of chatting to a sexual setting.
I still remember my first dicpic… ahhh… memories. In the beginning, I was shocked. A total stranger, that I know almost nothing about, sends me a dicpic with no warning. What is going on here? In the first few times that it happened I blocked the guy immediately and reported the site’s admin. That was the right thing to do, I thought.
But then, I started thinking about it. Let’s see what happens if I answer. I was just starting my standup performances and could use some good material. Thanks to my Israeli Chutzpa and the new improv skills I was practicing, I decided to play a game.
He: Hey, I have some nude pictures of myself. Me: Really? We never met and you want to send me nude pictures? He: I was just kidding. Me: So was I, you can send them now.
Well, I got what I asked for, many more dicpics, but it wasn’t really what I was looking for at that time, so it was back to blocking but this time I didn’t report to the site admin. I had an epiphany – there are women out there who think it is cool and would like to receive one of these pictures. Maybe they have a collection? Maybe there is a FB page? And guess what – there is: Dic•Pic on FB, go take a look it is a hilarious page! I was thinking of starting a new Guinness record: the biggest collection of dicpics ever received by using only online dating. This will be a great sales pitch when we choose what online dating site to open our profile with. Oh, Yes! This site has the most chances that you will get dicpics! Ok, maybe not.
I heard about the roofy from news and stories on the Internet. Lucky me I was never in a situation where somebody slipped a roofy to my drink and I did not know what is going on. I made sure to guard my drink where ever I went and never left it with strangers. That’s why when I once had a coffee date with a guy, he was obviously interested in chance of a second date, I was astounded when he told me: “why won’t you just put a roofy in my drink? Just put a roofy and do whatever you want to me.” It sounded funny when he said it and I was amused for a long time. I still think it’s a hilarious sentence and completely not PC. Sue me? Wait, there is more.
I was in a lunch date with Mike, who is a 6.3 handsome black guy from Uganda. We were having a great conversation, lots of mutual interests in life and sharing stories about food from our countries. In one point I asked Mike what is his real name? It made a complete sense to me that a 50 years old man that was born in Uganda will have a Ugandan name, right? Mike did not understand my question in the first time, and provided me with his last name. “No, no, no, your first name – what were you named in Uganda when you were born?” Jason looked at me, amused, and made a clicking tongue sound, for about two minutes, and asked me if this is what I’m expected to hear. I smiled wildly and said: “Yes, exactly this. Is this your birth name?” Mike started laughing. His name was Michael from birth. Mike was born to a Christian family and all his family members were named after different people from the bible. I apologized for my ignorance and we both had a good laugh.
Want another embarrassing story? On an online dating site, I answered to a man named Dan. I knew I made a mistake the second I clicked on the “Enter” button. My message was: “Hi, Jason.” Remember? His name was Dan… I immediately sent another message that said: “Sorry Dan, my bad.” Dan took it gracefully and answered me right away: “Hi, Michelle. How are you? Whoops, sorry, Renata”. I burst out laughing when I read this sentence. It was a great unexpected ice breaker and provided us with our first private joke.
What am I trying to say with all these stories? It is all about your attitude, and having fun with an embarrassing situation is the best to do. Mike clicking tongue, Jason… whoops Dan, put a roofy in my drink, are all situations that can be taken very seriously, become embarrassing and maybe even ruin a fun date with an awkward moment. Own it – you said it, and now you have to deal with it. Hopefully, your date has a good sense of humor and you both will take the opportunity to laugh together and enjoy your own first private joke. It’s a memory. Remember: no good story ever started with a salad and… when life gives you lemons, you can prepare a limoncello. It is our choice to decide how we process life – so why not enjoy what we are doing.
Cheers, and don’t be a stranger! Leave a comment and share your thoughts.
You get a Hi from a guy on your online dating account – and that’s it.
I used to get a lot of “Hi” messages to my online dating account on OK Cupid. That’s it – just “Hi.”
At first, I used to answer back “Hi,” or “Yes?”
The next message was usually “How are you?” My answer “Good and you?”
It sounds boring – and it was.
I really appreciated the guys that were creative enough to write “Hi,” introduce themselves and engage me into an interesting discussion. But that didn’t mean that the standalone “Hi” guys were ignored.
I reviewed every profile a “Hi” was sent from and decided if I want to continue the discussion or not – on the spot decision – ‘I don’t think we have a match.’ Why waste your time and the other person’s time, if you don’t feel something interesting will come out of it?
The ones that started a real discussion got my attention, as a discussion was going on. It did not matter that the picture was not so great, the fact that the guy had something to say was a great start.
But – as everything in life – there is no one cookie cutter, right?
I remember this specific “Hi” I got from a man – later on, will be remembered as Mike Motek (Hebrew = Honey/Sweetie) – story #11 in the book. Mike did not write more than two sentences together, and usually finished his sentences with “LOL.”
I hated it! Yes, I know I’m funny, but I am not THAT funny. I told him that. So, he started finishing his sentences with hahaha. Smart ass. I did not enjoy our texting and was very close to dropping this conversation.
Saturday was approaching and Mr. LOL/hahaha asked me out for dinner. He was my last choice to choose from, and frankly my only choice for that Saturday, so I decided to say yes.
That date changed my mind about the “Hi” and who sends those messages.
I met a very good looking man, a great conversation took place, and Motek admitted that he has dyslexia, and is struggling to communicate through texts that are more than two to three sentences. In his professional life, Mike was a Navy engineer and amazing with numbers and technical information, but that’s it – his writing skills were awful and he did not even try to fix it – “it is what it is” he said to me.
We started dating on a regular base, his text messages stayed short and LOL was ending most of his sentences, or a big smiley emojis. At one point Mike even started to learn Hebrew, to greet me in the mornings and show that he cares to learn about me and my heritage. It was sweet and very appreciated from my side. I knew that he is trying hard to get over his lifetime challenges, and I was very impressed by his efforts.
It thought me a very important lesson – give “Hi” a chance.
Don’t be fast to dismiss a “Hi” that comes to you. Men are not as communicative as women and they “poke” and see who gets back to them, before they put more effort into the discussion. From the men’s side, I believe that a “Hi” from a woman is a great start – guys love it! Although, I don’t know many women who will just send a “Hi.” I just asked my husband if he ever got a “Hi” from a woman. His answer: “Women don’t send “Hi” – they never approach men.”
On my side – I was always worried about my grammar and Hibrish sentences (Hebrew plus English,) but it never stopped me. It usually gave me and the person I was texting a good laugh. Oh, I did approach men that looked interesting – more on that next time.
July 24th, 2018, summer has finally arrived in Seattle.
I think that my best online dating experience usually took place during the summer. People feel like going out, the weather allows you to plan a different kind of activities, and there are so many layers you can wear, which means that most of us decide to start a diet. I said “Decide” – I did not say Start.
Summer dates opened a new world of surprises and attractions for me. I wanted to go out, attend music festivals, farmers market, have a picnic by the lake, you name it. Just get out of the house and do things.
One of the Mikes suggested a visit to an outdoor Shooting Range.
The last time I touched a gun, was during my service in the IDF. I didn’t pay much attention to it, as I knew I’m not going to use it after the boot camp phase. And I did not.
This time, I was very serious and paid a lot of attention to the instructions – it was interesting.
Gunshot Mike brought five different guns/pistols you name it and was very proud to explain about each one of them and how to use it. I listened carefully and seriously. This was no joke.
I had to be quiet and hold still for a few minutes to get myself to the right mindset and… shoot.
IT WAS GREAT! I was so good that even Gunshot Mike did not believe that I did not touch a rifle for more than 30 years. It was a fun date, and I learned something new – I like shooting. I like this “alone” time which you need to concentrate and clear your mind from everything but one thing: aim to the target and shoot when you are ready.
The same works for online dating – you aim at what you want, and you shoot. Your online profile is your magic bullet, and the fun thing is that you can adjust and modify it whenever you feel the need to do so.
Which brings me to the next question – what’s your favorite activity, when you go on a first date?
2015 – 4th of July – I have two dates planned.
Mike #79’s schedule has changed, and I’m about to meet Mike #80 first.
2018 – 4th of July – Mike #80 is my husband. We got married a year and a half ago. We say “I love you,” every night before we go to sleep, and when sometimes I don’t Mike #80 is not upset. He knows I’m crazy… and then Mike #80 will tell a joke, and I will hold his hand close to my heart, and promise him that it is ok, some people somewhere think it is funny. I know, I’m cruel.
But this is really what being together is all about – right?
We all have our “Shticks” in life – and the question is: Do you want/can live with mine? And me with yours?
When starting to date, some of these Shticks are hiding, but they cannot hide for long. It is not about me wanting to change you – but about you want to change – and vice versa.
My biggest decision is to take a deep breath, and not say a word for five whole minutes, just let the storm clear.
4th of July became our Online Dating anniversary. Very cool, I think 😊 hard to forget.
