. . . and then sometimes it's all about the matzah.

היום ארבעה ימים בעמר
Today is four days of the omer
נצח שבחסד
A day of perseverance in a week of loving kindness

One aspect of eating kosher, especially in an environment where those who eat kosher are very much in the minority, is mindful eating. Yes, there are other reasons for eating kosher and other ways to eat mindfully, but that's the subject for a different essay. My point in bringing this up is that mindfulness is ratcheted up a notch during Passover. You get used to making various food decisions and adaptations of meals during the year, but during Passover the avoidance of chametz brings another layer to think about.

One challenge is making foods that don't involve matzah in any form. It's just not good for the digestion to eat so much of it. But it is the basis of so many recipes, when you add in all the matzah meal that so often is an ingredient.

I happily had my weekly trip to the Civic Center Farmers' Market this morning, and will be cooking with lots of fresh, seasonal vegetables. Tonight it's soup, tomorrow a kugel--which will have some matzah meal, but I will keep it to a minimum.

I'll look at this extra layer of mindfulness as a positive, not something to complain about. It's always good to eat fresh, seasonal foods, liberate myself from the pervasive influence of processed food on our diet.

Sharing ancient traditions

היום שני ימים בעמר
Today is two days of the omer
גבורה שבחסד
A day of strength in a week of loving kindness

One of the things I love about Jewish rituals is the many layers of the traditions brought by different interpretations through the centuries. Rabbi Arthur Green teaches that a bit of oil is left of the Torah from the fingertips of the generations as it passes through their hands. I see this also in our celebrations, as different times and places leave their mark on our holiday customs. The deeper the levels, the further back they go, the more intrigued I become. The most ancient ties, linking us back to our roots before Abraham, are the ones that resonate deeply.

Sukkot is the chag-the holiday-that seems to connect most directly to those ancient, pagan times. We shake the lulav, with its myrtle, willow, and palm branches, and the etrog, that special citron, in six directions--north, south, east, west, up down. We march in a circle asking that higher power to please, save us. However the early rabbis justify these rituals, it seems much like magic incantations that seem to hark back to an era that would predate the lech l'cha--the going out of Abraham.

But it is in Chanukah and, I now realize, Pesach, that our ancient rituals feel in sync with people all over the globe. As all my students can tell you, the lighting of the candles on Chanukah has little if anything to do with the story that is told. It is our tribe's ritual of bringing light into the season of darkness. It's a ritual manifested in Christianity with the lights of the Christmas tree and the Hindus with the fireworks of Diwali.

Just as the ancient peoples needed to bring in light to ward off the darkness, they also needed to mark and give thanks for the rebirth of plants and animals that comes with the spring season, bringing life and sustenance. Eggs as a symbol of new life, rebirth, and fertility permeate both Passover and Easter. In Torah time, the first of Nissan, the month of Passover and Spring is the beginning of the year. In the same spirit, the Persians/Iranian/Afghani celebration of No-rooz/Nowruz on the spring equinox to mark the beginning of their year.

I find strength in the rituals of my people and love being able to use them as an entry into the endless stream of time both forward and back. Seeing the connection with other cultures reminds me that global connections have an existence beyond this digital age, with roots in the ancient world.

Manifesting leadership in strength

היום אחד ארבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות בעמר
Today is fourteen days, which is two weeks of the omer
מלכות שבגבורה
A day of nobility in a week of strength

Thank you, Adam Silver, on this day of nobility, of leadership, in a week of strength. For today you have exhibited those qualities.

There was lots of speculation as to how the NBA would react to the horribly racist views expressed by LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling. Would Commissioner Adam Silver try to walk a line of doing something without too much impact, something done as a stop-gap measure until the NBA playoffs were over? Would he be able to come down hard on a very rich owner, part of a group of very rich owners all who want to protect their investments--who might not take well to being told what they can and can't say, especially in private.

Adam Silver, just months into this extremely high profile position, faced a situation more more volatile than anything his predecessor David Stern had to face in the 30 years of his term. And while there is still much more to unfold in this story, Silver's decision to ban Donald Sterling for life, fine him the maximum allowed, and direct the owners cast a vote to force Donald Sterling to sell the team was strong and bold. His demeanor in the press conference was calm and firm, clearing acknowledging the issue, letting all know that there was no question about the solution. I applaud him.

I understand the point of those who wonder why it took so long for the NBA to do something about this man whose racism was well know, not just within the confines of the sport but out into the wider world where he engaged in egregious housing discrimination:

. . . in 2003, 19 plaintiffs sued Sterling for housing discrimination. In the suit, Sterling is accused of telling his staff that he did not like blacks and Hispanics, citing their behavior. “Hispanics smoke, drink, and just hang around the building,” he allegedly said. What’s more, the lawsuit said, Sterling told his staff that he only wanted to rent his apartments to Koreans and forced black tenants to sign in when they entered the building. “Is she one of those black people that stink?” he allegedly asked of an elderly black tenant who needed repairs to her apartment. “I am not going to do that. Just evict the bitch.”  (Slate.com)

I agree that something should have been done earlier, and maybe someone will ask David Stern why he remained silent and inactive. But this is now Adam Silver's league, and he did act. Also, although it may be sad that it's just because of words and not actions that Sterling, a large beam of light is focused on the specter of racism still hovers over this country. And bringing that awareness to light may help to remind us all, to teach us all that the fight for civil rights is not over.

Who thought this was okay?????

היום אחד שבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is seventeen days, which is two weeks and three days of the omer
תפארת שבתפארת
A day of compassion in a week of compassion


The news has brought me some new ways to teach about the Holocaust, as I wrote about last week in my post about the "Jew in a Box" in an exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Berlin. And then there are the posts that show you how and what not to teach, as I read in this article in Tablet magazine about a high school teacher whose students had to write an essay based on Nazi propaganda called, "Why Jews are Evil."

Although some could argue the point--and I'm sure will--I can see using a variation of that assignment in a class about the Holocaust to impress upon the students how much effect propaganda can have on a large propaganda. Especially when the people in power are extremely skilled in the use of propaganda and how to spread it, as the Nazi leadership certainly was. As I set the stage for the economic, political, and sociological factors that were in play during Hitler's rise to total power, my students need to see how pervasive propaganda can be. This exercise is something that could have taken place in a German classroom in the 1930s. And it would help convince those kids, as well as there families, that Jews were indeed evil and the cause of all their problems.

But that lesson would have to be carefully planned, executed, and given the correct context. The lesson that was done in the Albany, New York, classroom was far from that. According to an article in the Albany Times Union newspaper, the school superintendent said she understood the academic intent of the assignment — to make an argument based only on limited information at hand. She was quoted as saying "I don't believe there was malice or intent to cause any insensitivities to our families of Jewish faith." Her problem with the assignment was that it was worded in an offensive manner.

How can someone in education not see that giving this assignment could give students the impression that the information was based in truth. It can give students reasons to believe that Jews are evil--after all, they learned this in school. How could this teacher, any teacher, think this is okay?

One third of the students refused to do the assignment--what about the other two thirds. What did they learn?

In class this week, my students said they didn't believe this sort of propaganda could have the same effect today. Maybe I'll share this story with them and see what they think. It will give me another reason to give them as to why it is important to learn about this, to be aware of the damage the propaganda, once released into the world, can do. Even more than eighty years later.

We are One

היום אחד שנים עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is twelve days, which is one week and five days of the omer
הוד שבגבורה
A day of humility in a week of strength

Today and tomorrow there will be many tributes posted to the memory of those lost in the Shoah, the Catastrophe, the Holocaust. Yom HaShoah is a day to stand in remembrance of all those lives lost, and all the souls who will never be.

It is also the place in time when, once again, we are reminded that--like it or not--we are, as Jews, one people. I know there are many who would argue, and I'd probably agree with a lot of their points. But it's hard to ignore the historical cycles of our past that are mirrors of each other.

Last Sunday I alluded to the Jewish penchant for dividing into party lines based on theological and political lines. Assimilation into other cultures has been going on for centuries. Traditions flow in separate lines with the difference of geographic location. Each subsequent generation brings its own interpretation to ancient rituals.

But from the Exodus from Egypt through the Babylonian exile to the destruction of the Second Temple through the Crusades, the Inquisition, the programs and on to the Shoah, there has always been this tragic correction where we have been reminded that no matter where we go in time or place, we are all part of one entity - the Jewish people. We were a global community long before the internet age.

What we do with that identity--what does it mean to us in this generation, and to the next? That's a matter for discussion. Feel free to share your thoughts here. But however you feel, whichever way you look, the Shoah has to be part of the dialogue, for it is, forever forward, part of all of our stories, part of the Torah we all share. Something we will not, we can not ever forget.

The Moveable Seder Plate

היום שבעה ימים  שהם שבוע אחד בעמר
Today is seven days, which is one week of the omer
מלכות שבחסד
A day of nobility in a week of loving kindness


Last night at the Food Justice Passover event, the room was transformed into a living seder plate with each traditional ritual object was represented by a Jewish group dedicated to supporting justice for all in the world.

Hazon and Urban Adamah brought light issue of hunger in our communities and the need of those along the poverty line to access to fresh, nutritious food.

American Jewish World Service and Fair Trade Judaica represented food justice on a global level, reminding us of the modern slavery and oppression that is often involved with food production.

New Israel Fund and Bend the Arc showed us ways to advocate for social justice in the world, how we can help create an environment where issues such as water rights and gender inequity can be resolved with Israelis and Palestinians working together.

And The Kitchen was there to make the case for why and how religion can matter while doing this important work.

After sampling everything "on the plate," we sat for our meal--a vegetarian delight. Each group prepared a text study dealing with their particular issue. There were two rounds of teachings, with each participant choosing which two they would like to attend.

I'm so glad to see the growing integration of Jewish study and social justice. I hear so many people bashing religion, viewing it as the source of so much strife in the world. While that may be true, I don't think it's necessarily the fault of religion per se, but of how it is being used or, more accurately, horribly misused. If more people can find lessons of justice in our ancient, sacred texts, they may also learn to find strength in the communities built around those texts. Even grappling with the difficult sections that seem to cause so much harm can open lines of communication with each other and discover interpretations that may bring those dark stories to light.

Got Balz? Coming of Age with baseball, bagels, and mambo

היום ששה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות וחמשה ימים לעומר
Today is twenty-six days, which is three weeks and five days of the omer
הוד שבנצח
A day of humility in a week of perseverance

I have a curriculum called "The Kabbalah of Jewish Identity" that I use in my class of 7th & 8th graders. It will come as no surprise that I created this during last year's omer period :) I use the bottom seven sephirot--the same ones we use to count the omer--as a hook to discuss different aspects of what it means to be a Jew. For humility, I first give them each two cards which the rabbis (which ones depends on who you ask :) say you should always have with you--one saying "For my sake, the world was created"; the other saying "I am but dust and ashes" The they learn about Hank Greenberg and Sandy Kofax--two Hall of Fame baseball players who faced the decision of whether or not to play in the World Series on Yom Kippur. Although neither one was an observant Jew, they opted not to play. They knew how important it was to the American Jewish community that they were a part of to honor that ritual. As big as they were in their professions, as important a moment they were facing--they understood the humility of being a part of something bigger.

Once again, the venn diagram aspect of my communities comes into play. On the day of humility where I get to intersect my Jewish world and my baseball world, my friend and video/film worlds join the overlap. My friends Marcia Jarmel & Ken Schneider, award-winning filmmakers who I met because of my video profession, are finishing a film made with their son Micah documenting his bar mitzvah project of bringing baseball gear to teens in Cuba. The Cuba connection is not just one of need, but a place that is a part of Micah's grandfather's Holocaust rescue story. And it is not just a coming of age story, not just a Holocaust survival story, but it is a story that can reach our youth about their Jewish identity. But rather than me tell you about it, watch the video below.





The film is almost done, but there is still finishing work to be done so this piece can go out into the world. I know I will be using this in my classroom, sharing this bar mitzvah story with the b'nei mitzvah of the future. Please click here for more information and share this with anyone you think may be interested.

Community

היום שנים ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות ויום אחד לעומר
Today is twenty-two days, which is three weeks and one day of the omer
חסד שבנצח
A day of loving kindness in a week of perseverance.

I'm planning to spend this week of perseverance looking at different aspects of being a part of different communities. I think that living in spheres of community is this century's version of tribal culture. It is where we get needed support, even as we sometimes have to also accept unwanted advice :)  It is where we find our extended family, and get to reach out to both young and old. It can also be a place of unfair hierarchies and fights for control. To borrow from Dickens--it can be the best of times and the worst of times.

But like with family, when you are invested in a community you don't just abandon it when times are tough. You may have to separate in some way, but while ties may loosen, it takes a lot to get to a breaking point. And sometimes, instead of snapping the bonds, you get to rearrange the strands into a configuration that has the potential to keep the best of all worlds while still moving forward.

Those are the thoughts that will underlie my posts this week. As I delve into these subjects, I'm open to any words of wisdom anyone would like to add--so stay tuned.

Remembering the fallen . . .

היום שמונה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וארבעה ימים לעומר
Today is eighteen days, which is two weeks and four days of the omer
נצח שבתפארת
A day of perseverance in a week of compassion

This eighteenth day of the omer, this day of חי -- of life, is also Yom HaZikaron, a day of remembrance for the Israeli soldiers who have, as Amichai Lau-Lavi puts it ". . . fallen for peace in Israel."

In this country, we've made Memorial Day a three-day weekend celebration of summer--going to the beach, taking advantage of sales. Most have forgotten the meaning of the day--the who, what, and why of what we are commemorating.

In Israel, there is no forgetting---everyone takes the time to remember.....

Two Threads of My Life....

היום ארבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות לעומר
Today is fourteen days, which is two weeks of the omer
מלכות שבגבורה
A day of majesty in a week of strength

My soul's ties to Judaism has two main threads that converge and join with modern influences to inform my practice and, in many ways, my life.

I definitely feel the call of the ancient. I can't remember a time when I couldn't read Hebrew or say the Shema--it was just a natural progression. On my road back to Jewish practice, as I chanted Torah and participated in Shabbat and weekday prayers along the way, the flow of the Hebrew language made a deep connection. And as I delve deeper and deeper into text study of the ancient scriptures, I also find a connection to those people, my people, my tribe. And from that tie also comes a link to the Middle East--a tie that, quite frankly, can bring pain right now. But as a Jew I do feel a tie to the culture of that region, with roots in the same ancient times as so many others.

In my mind, there's little doubt where my tribe ended up when forced out into the wider world. My ancestors did not go south, for I am Ashkenazic to the core--no DNA test necessary :) With Romanian on mom's side, there might be some gypsy influence, but the Galitziana in me from the Sniatyners on my dad's side is strong. Ken looks at family photos taken around 100 years ago, points at a little girl and says, "that could be you."

When it comes to the importance of Jewish ritual in my life--many rituals which stem from the Ashkenazic line--the tie gets complicated by my gender. For years I identified with the yeshiva buchers--boys. I wasn't happy with the identification, but it was the closest I could get. But as I've learned more Jewish history during the years, I have now found my place in those early years. I was in the women's section of the synagogue, leading them in prayer, sharing the Torah parsha with them.

Now, my identity as a New York Jew in San Francisco....well, that's the topic for another post :)

The Great Mandala

היום ששה ימים לעומר
Today is six days of the omer
יסוד שבחסד
A day of foundation in a week of loving kindness

For the past couple of years I've been teaching myself how to play guitar, simply for my own enjoyment. My favorite book to play from is the classic Rise Up Singing, a compilation of mostly folk but other popular songs thrown in. There's nothing in there written later that the mid-1980s, but that suites me just fine. A lot of my favorite songs from the 60s & 70s are included, and I get much joy revisiting them.

As I sing what was then categorized as "protest songs," I feel the lyrics still have much meaning for the present generation--songs of peace and freedom that still need to be heard today. And maybe, with help of people like Matthew Vaughn, these songs will be heard into the next generation.

For now, I'm going to post the song I put on Facebook yesterday to mark the omer day. It's not in Rise Up Singing, but a great song none the less. I have the Peter, Paul and Mary recording from Album 1700 - in my opinion, their best. But this is a great version, sung by Paul Yarrow, who wrote the song, and Richie Havens.

Enjoy!

Loooking for lessons in the Kosher Nation

היום שלשה וארבעים יום שהם ששה שבועות ויום אחד לעמר
Today is forty-three days, which is six weeks and one day, of the omer
חסד שבמלכות
A day of loving-kindness in a week of majesty

Today I received my copy of Kosher Nation: Why More and More of America's Food Answers to a Higher Authority by Sue Fishkoff. It will be the next book in line for me to read. Friends have given it good reviews. But more importantly, I hope it gives me some ideas on how to teach the concept of kashrut to my students next year.

I teach in a Reform synagogue where the laws of kashrut are no longer followed. However, the students often bring up the subject. They are curious about the what and why's of the practice.

I need to be careful how I teach this--after all, it is not part of the culture of their synagogue and unlikely a part of their home life. When it comes up, I talk about mindful eating--being aware of what is in the food, where is comes from, how it gets to the plate. I show them the animated G-dcast for Shemini which gives the kashrut laws in song. I point out that the verses following the laws talk about each of us being holy--a kind of "you are what you eat."

But I'm hoping this book will enable me to bring in a worldly relationship to kashrut that would be in line with the philosophy of the Reform movement while letting me be true to the mitzvah aspect.

I'll post my own review when I'm done and let you know :)

Fighters for Freedom

היום שמונה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וארבעה ימים לעמר

Today is eighteen days, which is two weeks and four days, of the omer

נצח שבתפארת

A day of perseverance in a week of compassion

Today is the "chai," the life, of the count, converging with Shabbat.
On this day I honor those who gave of their lives so others could live in freedom.

Eric Anderson wrote this song to honor the Freedom Riders, who set off 50 years ago this month to work towards righting something very wrong. And whatever problems we still have today, I have to say--updating the last words of these lyrics--"Their song, it did not fail"

On this day of perseverance and compassion, thanks to all of those who continually walked, rode, and fought to make a difference.

Shavuot - A Festival Ignored

היום שמנה וארבעים יום שהם ששה שבועות וששה ימים בעמר
Today is the forty-eighth day, making six weeks and six days of the omer
יסוד שב מלכות
A day of foundation in a week of majesty

Tablet Magazine - a daily Jewish e-magazine from Nextbook, Inc - posted an article today, "Field Study: Why the holiday of Shavuot is all but ignored across America." This essay looks into the factors that make this the least practiced of the three Pilgrimage holidays - the remaining to being Pesach and Sukkot.

In its earliest incarnation, Shavuot marked a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the sacrifice of the harvest’s first fruits and is one of a historical trio of harvest celebrations, along with Sukkot and Passover, known as the shalosh regalim. According to Paul Steinberg, a rabbi at the Conservative synagogue Valley Beth Shalom in Los Angeles and the author of a series of books on the Jewish holidays, rabbis in the Talmudic period needed to reinvent Shavuot after the Jews left Israel for the Diaspora and no longer traveled to Jerusalem with harvest offerings. So, through what Steinberg calls the use of “complicated mathematical formulas” that were debated for centuries, the sages associated Shavuot with the giving of the Torah. But that interpretive shift, says Steinberg, has not “captured the imagination of Jews in America or anywhere else.”

The article goes on to talk about the custom starting to catch on in more American cities--staying up all night in study sessions called tikkun leil Shavuot. I will be participating in one such event in Berkeley tomorrow night into morning.

One of the comments on that piece caught my eye. While there's a definite snark factor that makes me want to say, "back off Jack," There are points in there that hit home:

Almost all American Jews celebrate and commemorate Passover in some form or another but only the Orthodox by and large celebrate Shavuot.
Another strange American Jewish phenomenon is that while most observe Shabbat by making Kiddush, very few observe Havdala, the ceremony marking the end of Shabbat.
Why are these two Mitzvoth, Shavuot and Havdala, neglected by most
American Jews, and is there any connection between the two?
I believe there is a connection.
Passover celebrates freedom from slavery and exodus from Egypt.
Shavuot celebrates the giving and receiving of the Torah and the Jews commitment to serving HaShem and His Torah.
Friday night Kiddush represents the Sanctity and Holiness of Shabbat.
Havdala repesents the leaving of the sanctity and holiness of Shabbat and the return of the mundane week.
By only celebrating Passover and not Shavuot, the American Jew is celebrating Freedom, but neglecting to commit to serving serving HaShem and His Torah.
By observing Kiddush but neglecting Havdala the American Jew is stating that everything is Kodesh-HOLY- without any distinction between that which is truly holy and that which is actually mundane.
How typically American to try to have your cake and eat it at the same time!

There is something to be said about people preferring the warm and fuzzy liberation/holy stuff and checking out on the commitment to the practice. I don't condemn anyone over this, as the writer of the comment seems to express. Instead, I wish more people would realize the mindfulness that consistent spiritual practice can bring to their lives

Hearing the Prophesy

היום שלשה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות ושני יומים בעמר
Today is the twenty-third day, making three weeks and two days of the omer
גבורה שבנצח
A day of strength in a week of perseverance

If you've read the previous post, you know I'm at a low ebb right now. So instead of creating a long or even a not-so-long tome, I'll commemorate Earth Day by sharing a song from one of the best musical satirists of our time, Tom Lehrer. I believe it's from a 1967 concert in Oslo.

I see artists like Tom Lehrer as prophets. Now, there's lots of talk of global warming and the consequences of the damage done to the planet in the name of technology and modernity. But fifty years ago, there were just a few voices.

Let's hope we can hear the message now better than we did then.

In with the Old; In with the New

On Thursday night I attended "The California Street Corridor Traveling Shavuot," a series of study sessions sponsored by the JCCSF, Sherith Israel, Temple Emanu-El, and Beth Sholom. We walked from place to place, choosing from a number of teaching sessions at each facility. The evening ended with Marsha Attie leading the 50-60 assembled in song and dance. The three young rabbis who organized it--Micah Hyman, Jonathan Jaffe, and Julie Saxe-Taller--took a chance on this concept, and it worked. And it has the potential to get better in future years.

Rabbi Peretz Wolf-Prusan, an amazingly gifted teacher, held the last session of the evening in the chapel of Beth Sholom. His topic was "Ever Since Sinai: Pirke Avot and the Rabbinic Revolution." He had us look at the beginning of Pirke Avot--part of the Mishnah that contains six chapters of sayings from the rabbis of Yavneh. These rabbis needed to recreate the rituals of Judaism following the fall of the Second Temple.

They created a religion that was centered within each person in their home. There was no longer a homeland, no central place of worship, no priestly intermediary. And that is the Judaism that has survived these thousands of years. It is what the Dali Lama found out when he listened to the presentations of the Jewish leaders gathered to answer the question: How had the Jewish people survived through all these years in exile. (You can read about that in Roger Kamenetz's The Jew in the Lotus.)

When there was no central "authority" the rituals controlling the practice had to balance between the central shared traditions and home practice. Customs were influenced by the different cultures of the lands of exile--these lands that have now become home. The rabbis of each generations in all different places studied the Torah, the Tanach, the Talmud, and other critical writings of sages through the eras. They had the task of transmitting the traditions of this ancient religion to people living totally different times and places. As long as that process continues, Judaism will continue to thrive.

Some of my struggles lately have been with the rabbinical interpretations from past eras that still rule today. I don't mean to just shrug off what doesn't work in the name of modernity, but we need to look at the teachings through the lens of their time, and then bring them to a clearer place while looking through the glasses we wear now. It feels like we're held captive by the Shulchan Aruch, Rabbi Joseph Caro's epic interpretation of Jewish Law written in the late 16th century. So much of what is called halachah - law - seems stuck in that time, in that document. Why did so many aspects of our living religion become stagnant.

I admit that I'm not sure that I am knowledgeable enough to come to that conclusion. It definitely comes more from my heart than my head. And I know that not all parts of Judaism got stuck there. But the conflicts over practice that too often tear Jews apart from one another seem to stem from there.

Those who want to keep their practice clear from as much as the last 500 years as possible are welcome to do so. But why do they need to exercise so much influence over those of us who wish to live as practicing Jews in this 21st Century world.

Baking Bread

היום שמונא ושלשים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות שלשה יומים לעמר
Today is the thirty-eight day of the omer - five weeks and three days
תפרת שביסוד
A day of compassion in a week of foundation


Two Fridays ago I participated in a fund raiser for Shalom Bayit, "Home of Peace" a Bay Area organization that was formed to " advocate on behalf of Jewish battered women, to educate the Jewish community about domestic violence, and to promote awareness of Jewish issues within the battered women's movement." We gathered in the house of one of Shalom Bayit's supporters to learn to bake challah in creative shapes from a master challah maker, Eva-Lynne Leibman. Eva-Lynne also is co-owner of the Judaica store Dayenu, located in the JCC of San Francisco.

I had a brief fling with baking bread in the late 1980s. I used the Tassajara Bread Book--a great one to learn from, low on the judgemental scale as far as which utensils to use. I remember being surprised at how easy it was. But baking bread was one practice that quickly fell by the wayside. Remember--I live in San Francisco, where good, locally baked bread is readily available. It's not like the choice is home baked or Wonder Bread.

But I had never baked challah, and the proper braiding adds to the intimidation level of the task. But like Ed Brown, the author of the Tassajara Bread Book, Eva-Lynne taught us the basics while letting us know that we could easily make each bread an outlet for our own creativity. She told us that the dough is very forgiving, so don't worry too much about mistakes. And she showed us different ways to form the dough--just let your imagination flow.

I was inspired, and went home to make my own loaves. In the two and a half weeks since the demonstration, I've made three batches of bread. The first one, made that same day as the class, went well enough to make me want to make more. This past Friday I made two more loaves. This time, because of a scheduling glitch, I needed to lengthen the rising process so I let the dough rise twice. That worked well for me. I don't use a food processor since I don't have a bread blade, and I do my mixing my hand. My theory is that there's less air mixed in when I do it by hand so the second rising gives my bread a lightness it wouldn't have otherwise. It may be a bogus theory, but it's mine and I'm sticking to it:)

Today I branched out even more. I used half whole-wheat/half white flour and added lemon zest, juice of said lemon, and fresh rosemary to the mix. The bread came out just fine. I left one bread as a loaf and braided the other. Thanks to Eva-Lynne, my braiding techniques are working. The key--start from the middle. That makes for a great shape. And it was extra special since the lemon and rosemary came from our garden.

My friend Allison remarked that there is something very satisfying about baking bread--a satisfaction unlike any other you get from cooking. I have to agree. Maybe it's the tie to a time in the past when we were much more aware of where our food comes from. Maybe it's because it's something that is perceived to be so difficult, yet is simple in reality. Maybe it's because we feel able to produce something so basic to our lives, relying on ourselves rather than others.

Whatever it is, it is indeed a great feeling of accomplishment--one I recommend you all try. If you'd like the recipe I used, feel free to send me an email.

American Idol in Hebrew

היום ששה ועשרים יומים שהם שלשה שבועות חמשה יומים לעמר
Today is the twenty-sixth day of the omer - three weeks and five days
הוד שבנצח
A day of humility in a week of endurance



I will admit it---I do follow American Idol, especially in the last couple months of each series. And in my opinion, this year's group is the most talented I've heard. My favorite, like so many, is Adam Lambert. The week he performed "Mad World" was the clincher for me. You can hear his rendition here.

Today on Facebook my friend Rebekah posted this link from Haaretz with a duet Adam sang with the Cantor of Temple of the Arts in LA. I then did some of my own clicking around and found this video from a Tribute to Rabin concert held at University of Judaism on November 29, 2005.

There's some discussion on this Haaretz page of whether or not he's Jewish---but there's no doubt he can sing.....

The Fishing Report

היום אחד ועושרים יומים שהם שלשה שבועות לעמר
Today is the twenty-first day of the omer - three weeks
מלכות שבתפרת
A day of majesty in a week of compassion



I still read my local newspaper, the San Francisco Chronicle, every day. Sometimes I read it at home, sometimes in a cafe with coffee and a snack. That's the thing about the printed form of the newspaper--it's easily transportable to any sort of environment, and can be folded to accommodate various sizes and types of space available. I know I need to cherish this time spent with this news in print--it looks like it will be gone sooner rather than later as the Chronicle is in danger of stopping its print version sometime this year. I'm pretty sure it will survive as an internet-only news outlet, but that is no where near the same.

One big advantage to reading the newsprint rather than the screen pixels is the way you can skim all the sections and see what captures your eyes. While the web version has links that will take you quickly to the information you want to see, with the paper you can look over the words as you turn the pages, stopping as something makes an imprint. And I don't want to click around to read the comics--an important part of the newspaper experience. I look forward to those two pages each day.

And then there are the small gems you'd never discover in an online version unless you were specifically looking for them. One example of that is the obituaries. I've written before about my practice of reading the obituaries--you can find that here, or check out the "zichrono/nah l'vracha" category of this blog. Another somewhat hidden gem is Brian Hoffman's "The Fishing Report" that appears each Thursday in the sports section. In his opening paragraphs to the state of fishing in the San Francisco Bay Area you will find some of the best writing around.
Here's today's offering:

You can give light and you can take it away, a drive down Army to 3rd at a time past 2. Someone else said that, about the light, except that they meant life, and it was something to think about going over the draw bridge and along the edge of water to the parking lot at Red's.

It was dark except where it wasn't, light from the buildings and strung along the gun-metal bridge, thin halos above the streets and 100,000 places.

The one over the pier water, a rendering like a net in green-gold-orange. Then all that's familiar, the rod and the line, sinker and hook, an anchovy with a bloody eye going down.

The waiting.

If there were stars, it might have been different. It there was anything, it might have been different. As it was, it was fine.

A bench with a broken back. Not another human or even a fisherman. The best hours before dawn. Leaning back and taking aim, thumb to pointer, shooting them out ahead of the sun. One, by one, at a time.

I understand that the world needs to move forward and things have to change. But I will mourn the loss of those moments with my newspaper and my coffee, letting someone like Brian Hoffman use words to paint a picture, bringing me these scenes I would otherwise miss.

Harvey Milk - Reel vs Real

Last night Ken and I went to see the movie Milk. The reviews have been extremely good and I was expecting to have a good movie experience, with the bonus of seeing alot of San Francisco in the 1970s. Instead, I was hugely disappointed on both counts.

I will say that Sean Penn was fantastic in his role as Harvey Milk. He is not just playing Milk, he becomes Milk. He deserves to be considered for the Best Actor Academy Award. But as far as writing and directing goes, it's a total thumbs down from me.

The writing seemed so, I don't know, obvious, for lack of a better term. The story moves along, but there's no passion, no soul. The direction was claustrophobic. I didn't get a good sense of time and place in the visuals. The shots were either very close or very wide--neither giving me a feel for San Francisco in the 70s. Again, a lack of passion and soul. I was not moved emotionally.

And this is a story and a time and a place that does move me. If you really want to feel the power of Harvey Milk and the activism that defined San Francisco in the 70s, see The Times of Harvey Milk, the Academy Award winning documentary directed by Rob Epstein. I've seen it numerous and it never fails to bring me to tears.

For me, the telling of the real story from those who lived it brings it closer to my heart than watching the Hollywood reel version.