While my “24-hour immersion” into Judaism officially began during the morning of Sept. 5 at a morning Rosh Hashanah service in Woodstock, I can pinpoint its exact kickoff moment … and that didn’t come until several hours later.
Earlier in the week, I was invited to a traditional Rosh Hashanah dinner after the service at the home of Carol and Tom Snyder, along with a few friends from the Shalom Group. Having grown up Catholic, I was unfamiliar with Jewish traditions and cuisine but excited to try several new things.
First up on what would prove to be a marathon of a menu: apples and honey, traditional Rosh Hashanah items that symbolize a sweet year to come.
Tradition aside, the next course served would be the one that really brought me full circle: gefilte fish and chopped liver. Gefilte fish is one of those mythic dishes whose reputation precedes it, and I was thrilled at the chance to finally taste it. I was encouraged to try it with the homemade red horseradish but warned that it should be used sparingly.
I was never big on horseradish, but if I wanted to do this immersion right, it was going on my gefilte fish. So I scooped up a beginner’s pinch of the beet-red sauce, spread some on the fish, and began to lift my fork toward my mouth.
With the fork about two feet away, the aroma reached my nostrils, slowly working its way into my brain. I was now in the horseradish’s atmosphere, and I could feel my arm resisting, but I either forced the fork closer or had my fork forced for me.
Now just inches away, my mouth seemed to involuntarily open. Everything was fading to white. I can’t tell you exactly what happened next, but I started chewing.
I regained consciousness with watery eyes, immaculate nasal passageways, and a feeling of great triumph. I had done it. I may or may not have spoken in Hebrew during my trance, but the immersion was now complete.
I finished the rest of my gefilte fish – sans horseradish, because I couldn’t commit fully to a religious conversion that day – and really enjoyed it. It was well-marinated and very moist.
My experience was far from over, however. What follows is an unabridged list of all that was served that evening:
Kreplach (meat-filled
dumplings) and matzah ball (matzah meal) soup
Roasted chicken
Kasha (buckwheat) and bowtie pasta
Roasted potatoes
Tzimmes (sweet potatoes and carrot stew with beef)
Corn medley
Roasted brisket
Kosher wine
Coffee
Cookies
Apple cake
Honey cake
Fruit
It’s possible I may have missed a couple of items due to the overload of food clogging my brain. What I do remember is how delicious everything was, especially the soup, (already a childhood favorite of mine) tender brisket, and tzimmes (I’m considering trying to make some myself).
Somewhere during the incredible feast, I realized that as significant and educational as the Rosh Hashanah service that morning was, the day would just have not been complete without the dinner. Dinner gave me a chance to witness how another culture continues one of their most important days in their home.
At the Snyder’s home, it was about friends, family, faith, and, of course, food. I suppose that’s true of most families – if I had invited them over for Christmas or Easter with my family, they’d find the same four F’s in play there as well.
OK, maybe not as much food.
The greatest perk of being a reporter is getting to learn something new for each and every assignment. Sure, some days you learn about taxes, but other days you get to experience an entirely new culture.
Even better is when you get to really connect with people and share that experience with them.
Even better than that is when you get to do so over a delicious and enormous dinner.
So thank you Tom and Carol and your guests for inviting me over for dinner and completing my immersion into Judaism. I had a wonderful time and felt more than welcome. Todah rabah
