SO, I met and became friends with someone, in ProVisors, who grew up in a Jewish community that was very orthodox. I would not-so-subtly hint, "Hey, I have never been to a traditional Shabbat dinner." Or, "When are you going to invite us over?" I have great appreciation for people devoted to their customs, traditions and faith, and wanted to experience something that goes way back. In my mind, the meal was a simple ritualistic event that recognized the Sabbath with food and activities that were symbolic in nature. (I don't know why, but I expected unleavened bread and bitter herbs.) But with Covid and circumstances of life, our getting together just kept getting kicked down the road. Until last night!
I shot Naomi an email a couple months ago, telling her my wife Tracy and I would be together in town on a certain date, and we penciled it in. Then as the day approached, Naomi's oven broke down, but not to worry, because we can do it at her husband's parents' home. Great! The more the merrier!
I jumped online so I could be aware of what to expect. Tracy texted me an article on how to be a good guest at Shabbat. We got a nice plant, not cut flowers because that would require the hostess to have to put them in water. We left our phones and Apple watches in the car, so we didn't engage in any technology. (Which is why I need to get a new Rolex.) We were going to knock instead of hit the doorbell, and if we went to the bathroom, we were not going to turn off the light. We were ready!
Upon arrival, we were met by "Shoshona," which I know I spelled it wrong . . . but she went by "Bubbe," which any Bubbe knows is as sacred a name as there can be. She was incredibly kind and welcoming and put our plant on the center of the island where she was organizing dinner. The island had a sink, and there were two sets of everything in the kitchen- sink, oven . . . everything. Naomi and her husband Ryan provided some insight on why, separating meat and milk, and Bubbe's husband Morris passed out books with songs, as well as their translations. I tried to follow along, but to say I was clueless is an understatement. Bubbe and Morris had other guests there as well to share in the meal, which made for a wonderful evening.
Morris baked two loaves of the tastiest bread I have ever had, and it was nonchalantly explained that his father was a baker. We were advised of the symbolism of the two loaves, the cutting board, the covering and eating it. We ceremoniously washed our hands with a container with two handles, keeping quiet until something happened after which we could then talk again. Naomi guided Tracy and I on the words to say and probably fought back the urge to snicker at my poor attempts to repeat what she said.
Then Bubbe started the meal with several courses that can only be described with one word: feast. The salads and chopped liver and other initial offerings were great, and the split pea soup was better than Anderson's. I was told it was ok to dip the bread in the soup, (I wanted to respect the bread!) but I was really just soaking it all up so the bowl was clean. The main courses, with chicken, vegetarian turkey, and several other dishes make my mouth water just thinking about them. And the dessert was this chocolate cake with a nutty frosting that would put anything I had a restaurant to shame. Seriously, this was in every way a feast.
(I would insert a picture here of all that awesomeness, but I followed the rules and left my iPhone in my truck.)
As I was feeling my shirt get tighter, I all of a sudden felt a little guilty about inviting myself over. What I thought would be a simple ceremonial meal to recognize the Sabbath was an extra-ordinary meal to welcome the Sabbath, enjoy one another, and to celebrate faith. Had I known, I still would have been all over an invitation, but I would not have been so forward in soliciting an invitation, but I am glad I did.
Morris the Patriarch was gracious, hospitable and provided wonderful insight. Bubbe winked at me like a favorite aunt when Naomi was explaining to Tracy and I what was going on, and the concept of saying blessings on so many different things. We experienced love and kindness from new friends in way that, almost four hours later on the ride home, Tracy and I could hardly stop talking about. How wonderful it is to increase in your own faith while experiencing another's. I will not forget our evening together.
So, to my Jewish friends . . . my applications are out for Friday night dinner! :-)
