If someone were to walk into your home, how would they know it is a Jewish Home?

This question is pretty hilarious.  Well, it’s pretty hilarious if you’ve been to my house.  My house is pretty Jewish.  I suppose we intended it to be.  It’s not like we sat down before we moved in and had an outline and a map and marked off the things that we should do to in order to have a Jewish home.  It just sorta happened.  There’s a couple of menorahs.  We’ve got candlesticks.  Our Ketubah is in the first thing you see when you come in the front door.  We have a Mezuzah.  There are a lot of wedding photos.  Then there’s the onslaught of Jewish themed books.  They’re everywhere.  So…I guess our house is pretty Jewish.

I hadn’t really even thought about it that much until a couple of months ago.  I had some friends over for a get together.  A small group of us were gathered around my dining room table reminiscing.  A friend’s husband came back from the bathroom and said, “Does a Rabbi live here?  There are Jewish books even in the bathroom.  This might be the most Jewish place I’ve ever been.”

It’s not the most Jewish place, but it definitely is Jewish.  It’s funny what other people see when they look at your house, that you don’t.  There are a lot of things that you might notice if you came over.  It’s also a pretty gay place with an enormous TV.  Sure, I know that we have Jewy things, but I wouldn’t call my home the most Jewish place that anyone has ever been.  What does your house say about you?

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Red peppers post roast

Several weeks ago, this Ashkenazi Jewess found herself at the shabbat dinner table of some hardcore Sephardic folk.  And seriously, I’m not talking about your garden variety Sephardic couple who can identify that slippery slope between too many hamsas on a wall and just enough while also putting paprika and hot chili peppers on everything.  I mean REAL Israeli Sephardic folk.  On top of the Sephardic-ness glory of the couple themselves, the hostess’ mother AND brother are chefs at a local kosher grocer so needless to say, I was packing Tums and my appetite when we arrived that night.  See, the benefit of being a Southern Jew is that I don’t have a fear of the spice (oh, I should clarify.  The Tums were for my hubby who is so deeply Ashkenazi I truly think male babies of his family are born craving bourbon and herring and end up settling for breast milk).  This was truly one of the yummiest meals I’d been too in a while–one of those meals where, if you close your eyes and open your nose and taste buds, you swear you’re back in Israel eating at the shuk. So, this of course made me run home to see if I could replicate any of the yummiest of the night.  I’m not about to jump into Sephardic cooking thinking I know what I’m doing.  I’m aware that there is a learning curve so it might behoove me to take it slow.  I decided to try making matbucha.  Matbucha (pronounced maht-boo-kah) is a cold tomato salad/relish dish served as an appetizer along side hummus, tahini, grape leaves, etc.  The great thing about matbucha is that it’s one of those dishes that takes hours but the majority of the time is taken up by just letting it do it’s thing on the stove.   And for all my fellow Eastern European Jews out there, feel free to serve your matbucha next to the smoked white fish at your next kiddish lunch.  I’m telling you, you’re Uncle Sol is gonna LOVE it!

Stewing and stewing

What?!

  • 2 lbstomatoes
  • 1 lb red bell pepper
  • 3 garlic cloves, quartered
  • 3 dried chilies (optional)
  • 1 1/2 teaspoonshot paprika
  • 1/3 cupolive oil
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 lemon

How!?

Preheat oven to 350°F and put a big pot of water on to boil.  Place bell peppers on a cookie sheet and roast in the oven at  until the skins have browned.  Submerge tomatoes in boiling hot water for 10 minutes or until the skin falls off.  Cut tomatoes in half and squeeze out the juice and seeds.  Cut tomatoes in chunks and put in medium-sized pot on stove (don’t turn stove on yet). When red peppers are done,  peel the skin from the bell peppers and remove the seeds and stem.  Cut bell peppers in chunks.  Add all ingredients to pot filled with tomatoes and pour oil over top.  Bring contents to a boil, then turn down to a medium heat.  Cook covered for 2 hours.  Remove cover and cook uncovered until most of the liquid has evaporated.  Stir occasionally to prevent burning.   When liquid is done, before refrigerating, stir juice of 1/2 a lemon into the finished matbucha. Refrigerate and serve cold.

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I hope you enjoy me working through my Beit Din questions, because guess what?  I’ve got a few more to deal with.  My next conversion meeting is next Tuesday so get your Jewish Learning life vests on, we’ve got some swimming to do.  Today’s question isn’t so bad, at least not when it’s compared to the last question I gave you.

If you could pick a Hebrew name today, what would it be and why?

I should confess that the moment that I decided to convert I began searching for a name for myself.  I’ve gone back and forth several times on a few different names.  It’s hard giving a name to anything, especially yourself.  A couple of weeks ago, though, I landed on what I’m pretty sure will be my Hebrew name.  I’m almost scared to tell anyone what it is for fear that I’ll change it with my next breath.

I love my given name.  My name is Jeremy Ashley.  My mother named me after her favorite character in Gone With the Wind.  While I enjoy that I’m named after a handsome character in one of my favorite books, I’m not super excited to be named after a wimp.  AND?  When you’re in first grade and you’re discovering the world and how things work?  When you share with your first grade class that you’re middle name is Ashley?  And you’re male?  AND you live in The South?  AND the person (read GIRL) seated next to you is named ASHLEY?  Things get complicated.

See how early we learn the power and magic of a name?  I learned early (First Grade!) that my name wasn’t right.  Ashley isn’t a boy’s name.  I was given a girl’s name.  How could my mother have gotten it all wrong?  How could this have happened?  Learning to love my name is maybe the great metaphor of my life.  I learned to love my girly middle name and myself, but I will never forget the power of giving or carrying a name.

The Hebrew name that I’ve chosen is Noah Lior.

Why Noah?  First off?  It’s one of my favorite names.  Period.  Since I’m not planning on having children?  I figured…I could give the name to myself.  Maybe I’ll live to regret this?  Maybe not.  I guess we’ll have to wait and see.  I also love the story of Noah and the flood.  He built a giant boat because Gd told him to and filled it with animals.  That’s crazy!  The story is also a crazy display of faith.  Gd said build a boat, y’all, so pass me some nails.  I love that.  The story also brought us the rainbow.  I think it’s beautiful that Gd sends the rainbow as a sign that everything is going to be alright.  Every time I see a rainbow I think of Noah’s story and how Gd is still saying “it’s gonna be alright, y’all.”

The more I think about the story of Noah, the more I feel that in some way it is my own story.  Noah built a giant boat and traveled from one world to the next.  He didn’t understand why.  He just did it.  He was compelled to do what he was told.  I feel that imagery in my own life.  I’m building a boat.  I’m getting in it and in a few months when I get out of the Mikvah?  I’ll be in a new land.

Why Lior?  There are a few reasons.  I want to honor my biological mother in some way through my name.  I can’t name myself Laura, so I picked a name that starts with L to honor her memory.  When I found the name Lior, it actually reminded me of the name Laura because the feminine form of Lior is Liora.  Very similar.  The name Lior means I have light, which is a pretty great image, especially when you combine the idea of Noah landing in a new world.  So there you have it.  We’ll see if I change it before I formally take it on.

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