In light of the serious things that are going on in Israel this week, perhaps this is timely.
On a local email list about housekeeping issues, a poster asked for help in getting it together for Shabbat. The original poster wrote that despite starting on Wednesday, she was barely finished on Friday. She works full time and has small children. Here is a response she received from Rachel, who gave me permission to post. It struck a chord with me, and I’d really like to hear others’ comments.
I’ve hesitated jumping in with my two cents, but the thoughts just keep rolling around in my head about this issue of beating the clock for Shabbat, and all that that entails. So I would like to clear my head for other pursuits; therefore, here goes:
First, I don’t think this frenzy of pressure to ‘put forth’ for Shabbat every week is a good thing, at least not the way many seem locked into doing. At the risk of sounding heretical, I do feel strongly that the way many folks present Shabbat is not helpful, not sane, certainly not required, not affordable, not even enjoyable, nor is it what Hashem even intends for this holy day to be. Not to mention oftentimes not even healthy. I also don’t think it’s what Judaism meant for it to be. Somehow, somewhere, along the way we have bought into performance and presentation at the loss of simplicity, beauty, and spirituality. We have made it something it was never intended to be. Not that one can’t spend tons of money and lay out gorgeous food fit for a king, and host a full table every week, and all the rest of the trappings, if that is what one finds most meaningful, AND if it doesn’t break the bank. But for most of us, we are doing those things for other motives, it seems (and are we even stopping to ask ourselves ‘Why’)?: possibly because everybody else we know does it that way (that’s a *really* sad reason in my book 
:); or we think that is what ‘Judaism’ is (surprise, it’s not); or we think people will think less of us — or at least leave the table lacking something (and we will be found lacking as proper Jewish hostesses, gasp) — if we don’t cover the tablecloth with about thirteen (or maybe twenty-five) little bowls of salads/vegetables/hummus etc., or glorified gefilte fish (what about those of us who may be from another culture or dietary tradition?) to begin the meal, only to later display oftentimes *two* kinds of meat during the meal proper? I will never get used to this, it shocks my system every time I see it, and I’ve been ‘doing Shabbat’ for about 22 years now. Not as long as many, but long enough to find what works for me, within the tradition.
If we drive ourselves nuts running from pillar to post, starting on Wednesday, racing the clock to present a Shabbat table that is more than we can really comfortably handle either energy-wise, timewise, or financially, then possibly it is time to take an accounting of our lifestyle choices. G-d isn’t twisting our arms; and neither is Judaism; we do this to ourselves and we should investigate our deep reasons. And, ummm, having relatives who came from Europe and barely had enough food to put in their mouths (we should never know from such sadness) is *not* a justification for us to put our trust in food like there is no tomorrow, and stuff our tables and our faces full, when it practically wipes us out, not to mention little things like weight and diabetes, which none of us wants to have to contend with. Excess sugar and grease does not equal love. What might it say about our trust in Hashem to provide?
If we are putting on a glitzy production, or even what might appear to be a heimish type meal, but with tons and tons of food on Shabbat, I think we have totally missed the point of what this day is supposed to be. I think we have missed the spirituality inherent in it. If people are coming to your table to be wined and dined and to have their taste buds tickled, then they are coming to you for the wrong reason and you don’t need to be obligated to folks like that. We have *choices* here. It is proper that we gather around our tables, sharing our food, our time, our hearts, with friends and loved ones, but the most important thing of all is the fellowship and words of Torah that we share with one another on this one day a week when we stop the daily grind. This day affords us the opportunity to get in tune with our own souls, and to see and touch the souls of our guests by the joyful time spent around the table. If the main emphasis is the food, then it is a show and not spirituality. There is nothing whatsoever wrong with presenting lovely dishes that are special for such a special day, but exactly what does that mean? And how much is enough? For many of us, there is practically no limit, no end.
We are blessed. If we have food at all, that is something to give profound thanks for. Most of us have more than the basics, and that is cause for further thanksgiving.
Okay, so what do I do? Here is a sample of what a Shabbat might be like at my house…….and I did this basic plan when I had more people at home and when I entertained nine people around my little table every single Friday night. I can no longer do that type of entertaining due to a disability but I still continue this basic plan and so far the Shabbat police have not carted me off, nor have I been struck by lightning:
~~Kiddush, of course, with homemade wholegrain challah rolls (this is important to me for health and preference reasons, but the kind of challah is not my point here. I do make a large batch and freeze, so I’m only baking challah about every four to six weeks.)
~~Soup of some kind (vegetarian, homemade, simple, delicious) — hot in cold weather, sometimes cold in hot weather
~~Salad or vegetable (totalling no more than two generally; anything more is really over-the-top at my house and doesn’t happen very often; but if for some reason I’m not serving soup that week (rare) then I might have three salad/veggie dishes, *period*)
~~Main whatever (ours is vegetarian)……and there are weeks we don’t have a Main; sometimes we simply have the soup and challah, or soup/challah/salad-vegetable dish and give thanks for delicious, mouth-watering food, simple, beautifult, and we have never, ever left the table hungry or feeling ‘deprived’. In fact, we prefer it this way, and our digestion and quality of sleep benefit, too.!
~~Dessert — a biggie at our house, as my husband is of the view that a meal — any meal — is not a meal without dessert. What can I say. So I try to make sure it is delicious and healthy. We’re not purists, but I try to keep things healthy.
~~Beverage — NEVER colas or sugared, flavored, chemicaled killers . Water, sometimes just water, Hashem’s glorious pristine gift to us. More often iced tea (sweetened with fresh lemon juice and Stevia), and sometimes iced herbal tea.
That’s IT.
Obviously, we each have issues that are important to us. For some it’s health issues, for some it’s time-saving, for some it’s frugal. Maybe for some of us, it’s several issues. Someone who doesn’t have the time or inclination — or who out-and-out hates to cook — would use ‘bought’ items that maybe I don’t rely on, and we each need to find what works for us.
I think the biggest key in my simple Shabbat meal plan above is that although I do not put out an endless stream of food from the kitchen, what I do put out I try to make sure is absolutely delicious, AND there is plenty of it, so of course cooking in quantity when I do cook, and freezing, is the only sane thing to do. If I can cover just those two bases I find that I can go into Shabbat confident that I have fed my family and guests well and……..that I myself will enjoy the most special day of the week. And that is a priority for me. My goal is to have all the preparations done by Thursday evening (no, I don’t *always* succeed, but it’s a goal and happens far more often than not, thankfully) with the exception of making any last-minute salad or vegetable that wouldn’t hold well overnight from Thursday, i.e. coleslaw.
Also, what is wrong with putting out a plate of simple sliced tomatoes in season, with maybe some torn basil leaves on top for garnish? Simple, simple is what helps me love Shabbat. It also allows me to generally have Fridays to do some nice, or some fun type of activity, maybe read a book, maybe go to the cherry-picking festival over in the Gush with a friend as I did two weeks ago, or some other pleasurable thing. Maybe take a nap. Whatever speaks to me. Having some time to myself on Friday makes all the difference in the world in my readiness to approach evening kiddush with an open heart, looking forward to the next 25 hours.
On a similar note, one time in the US we received an invitation to a seder from a rebbetzin who said “We so hope you and your husband will join us for the seder. But let me inform you, if you come to our seder, you will be coming for the seder — for the haggadah, the conversation, the commentary, not for the food. We have the required foods for the seder, of course, and during the meal I serve soup. There is plenty to eat. We have a bowl of berry compote for dessert at the end. That’s what you will get at our seder.” I was so proud of her! We loved it. We had more than enough food and left the table stuffed. Anything else I consider overkill and a detraction from what we’re really supposed to be there for. Long live matzah!
Maybe this will help someone out there who is feeling overwhelmed. I wish you all a beautiful Shabbat of peace and spiritual warmth, of connection to the Divine.
More stories from the park scene:
One of the local private elementary schools has two “hafsakot ochel” (food recesses). For the first one they wash hands and eat a sandwich (probably often chocolate spread, which despite being enriched with vitamins is still verboten in my house). For the second, the children begged their mother to give them wrapped miniature chocolate bars (like Pesek Zman, the Israeli version of Kit-Kat). Besides being junk, the expense does add up especially when you are paying for private school, transportation, lunch and an afterschool activity every day until 4. The mother suggested squares from a chocolate bar but the kids protested vehemently. At the parent-teacher meeting (I heard this from one of the teachers herself) the mother of these kids suggested that the children all bring a fruit or some other healthier and more frugal option, but not one of the other parents supported her. The babysitter for these kids, who was also in the park with the children’s younger sibling, reported how the kids refused to go to school one day when they were out of chocolate bars. I can only imagine what these kids will want for their Bar/Bat Mitzvahs.
This post on French Hill got me thinking about language. When I first made aliyah, people were always correcting my Hebrew. Kind of a rude thing to do, but Israelis considered it part of their duty to help settle in new olim. Times have changed, though, and many of my Israeli acquaintances wouldn’t dream of correcting me unless I asked for it. It’s not unusual for Israelis to speak or correspond with me in English to practice. Now my Hebrew is by no means perfect, but I can carry on a conversation quite well and write fluently with a minimum of mistakes. My accent is never going to pass, not that I care. The only thing is that I tend to go on and on in Hebrew. . . I think it’s the insecurity of being in what is unfortunately still a foreign culture to me. My closest Israeli friends are the ones who are happy for me to write to them in English, while they respond in Hebrew.
A few years ago I was at the park talking with two other mothers. A few minutes later, one of them turned to me, put an arm around my shoulder, and said (in Hebrew), “Mom in Israel, I think you should go to ulpan to improve your Hebrew.” (Ulpan is Hebrew language school for new immigrants.) Yeah, and I think you should lose some weight. Really.
Hmm, I don’t know how much longer I am going to keep this feature up. I was told I should include pictures, but who has time to take pictures on Friday afternoon? Besides, I am not very graphics-oriented.
Friday night:
Challah, baked on Friday from frozen loaves shaped last week.
Soup– too hot for it in my opinion
Tex mex chicken–chicken pieces, garlic, oregano, thyme, lemon juice and water
Potatoes and sweet potatoes, cooked in the pareve pressure cooker and heated up with the chicken gravy
String beans
Vegetable salad
Decadent brownies and watermelon
Lunch:
Challah
Melon
Cold chicken
Potato kugel (with a stray carrot that didn’t get into the soup)
Beet salad–next time we get beets I’ll make borsht during the week. Also, my preschooler likes plain beets, not marinated.
Vegetable salad
Brownies
Third meal–seudah shlishit:
Challah and pita
Beet salad
Egg salad
Potato salad (I saved some pareve potatoes for that)
Watermelon
Shavua Tov–have a good week!
The phenomenon that Orthomom refers to is not only a problem in the charedi community. In my well-established national religious neighborhood, the problem is alive and well. We have two national religious, government schools (mamlachti dati) side by side. One consists of only children bussed in from the sephardi, mostly Yemenite neighborhood, and the other only accepts children from the local, Ashkenazi neighborhood. The school for locals ended up admitting quite a few Mizrachim (as sefardim prefer to be called), so please don’t call them racist (!). They used to be in one school. My daughter, graduating now from sixth grade, is in the last mixed class.
This all happened because of competition from private schools, which also get government funding. Parents left the public religious schools in droves for the private schools, leaving in a majority of mizrachim in many classes. It became a vicious cycle. It was couched in language about wanting a more “torani” school, although it was clear that for many of the parents religion was not an issue. Now we have a private school for those parents too. Parents pay about $100 a month for private schools, and public schools have fees also. The main chardal school just inherited an almost-new building from the city in a new, upscale part of our neighborhood. This school actually used to be in the Yemenite neighborhood from where the kids are bussed to the above-mentioned public school. So those families at least used to make a bit of a sacrifice by having to bus their kids to a rundown building. But no longer.
What are the objections to the mizrahim? Well, they are less observant (more mizrahim than ashkenazim who don’t observe Shabbat still want their kids in a religious school) and there is a socio-economic divide as well that is not talked about. Ironically American day schools, at least out-of-town, are far more accepting of non-observant Jews than schools here. Unfortunately American olim tend to fall into the Israeli mindset very quickly. One friend who switched to private school compared it to the public/private school debate in the US, where Jews were blamed for lowering the level of public schools by sending them to day schools. Hello, we’re talking about our fellow Jews here, who were put in transit camps upon arrival in the 50s and forced to send their kids to public schools and have their culture degraded.They have never recovered, and the cycle continues. It’s not the same at all.
Twitter links powered by Tweet This v1.7, a WordPress plugin for Twitter.
