My working at the creamery to learn the fine art of cheesemaking has taught me an invaluable lesson, a lesson I will recall for years to come, a lesson in strength and endurance: I am much weaker and less tenacious than a farm pig!

In the midst of crisp autumn morning, one of my Fridays at the farm making cheese, a voice rang out from close range, breaking the routine of cheese churning and cheese washing….. I had to perk my ears to realize that, yes, I had just heard: “the pigs have escaped!”

Having worked on the farm for 6 months, I have befriended the cows, the goats and the resident farm cats, but had yet to see the pigs. I had no idea that these stalwart creatures each weigh in from 200-250 pounds and that I was about to I get an intimate, crash course in rodeo-style, frantic pig chasing.

I’ve been face to face with pigs before, but usually postmortem and on my plate: crisp bacon, salty pancetta, briny prosciutto, a juicy pork chop. I’ve also seen cute, diminutive pot belly pigs in pet stores at the mall. But never have I wrestled with a stubborn pig, a female Conan the Warrior in sow’s clothing.

The farm staff was able to wrangle most of the porky harem back into its pen, with the exception of one stubborn swine. The pig was unruly, zigzagging through the pastures, barreling through a maze of hay barrels, content to knock over any human that stood in its way of world domination. There were two of us to this pig: myself and the cheesemaker, Colin. In a wrestling contest, me versus the pig, there’s no question who would prevail: surely, the pig. I figured the pig was no match for me and Colin combined, a strong and confident team, but I could not have been more wrong than a horse and buggy going 90 miles-per-hour down a one way street!

This thing whipped through prickly trees, bushes, in between small spaces, until we had trailed it, fast as the dickens, down an incline into an area confined by an electric fence. Add another colleague to the mix: three against one. The situation remained unyielding, the pig dead-set on human dominance.

By now we were dripping with sweat, laughing out of control, out of breath. We had attempted to move the pig with sheer brute force, humans pressed up against the hairy body of the pig, while it stood steadfast, grazing for mushrooms and snorting. This thing had to go down, down like a misbehaving teenager, down like tonight’s pork roast dinner. We had become caricatures: lab coat wearing, hair-net donning fools, running around like blind bats in our rubber boots, wielding thick sticks, while the darn pig got the better of us. We know we looked ridiculous and yes, it was darn funny.

So, roused by my piggy encounter, here is a delicious Italian-inspired recipe for pork slow-cooked in milk. After simmering the roast in the milk with juniper berries, rosemary and sage, you get extremely tender, silken meat in a clear, clean broth: a perfect meal after a day of chasing unruly pigs.

Maiale al Latte
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 (4 1/2- to 5-pound) boneless pork shoulder roast (without skin), tied
3 juniper berries, crushed
2 large rosemary sprigs
2 large sage sprigs
4 dried bay leaves
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/2 cup dry white wine
3 cups whole milk

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees with rack in middle. Heat oil in a wide 5- to 6-quart ovenproof heavy pot over medium heat until it shimmers, then lightly brown roast on all sides with juniper berries and herbs, 8 to 10 minutes total. Add garlic and sprinkle roast with sea salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper, then cook until garlic is golden, about 1 minute. Pour wine over roast and briskly simmer until reduced by half. Pour milk over roast and bring to a bare simmer.

2. Cover pot and braise in oven, turning roast occasionally, until tender (milk will form curds), 2 to 2 1/2 hours.

3. Transfer roast to a carving board and loosely cover. Strain juices through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl (discard solids), reserving pot, and skim off fat. Return juices to pot and boil until flavorful and reduced to about 2 cups. Season with sea salt and pepper. Slice roast and serve moistened with juices.

Yield: Serves 6.

A few months ago, my aunt Paula decided that we need to capture our culture’s tradition through food, bottling up as much Jewish culture in a day’s work, touring New York City’s most iconic Jewish and Russian food spots. It would be an intimate family affair and we would sacrifice our stomachs to the pickled herring of New York, we’d spew Yiddish sayings at will, we’d start an annual tradition filled with nostalgia, humor, and self-discovery. Hence, Jewstalgia was born.

June 7 was the day of our first annual Jewstalgia and the behemoth gods of hot, hot heat were upon us. The oppressive sun hit our backs like the heavy, scorching roof of a Panini press. Sweat dripped down our slick backs like flowing, living waterfalls. However, we persevered. It was the type of severe weather where the appetite is suppressed, yet we kept eating like it was our last meal(s) on earth, our tenacious minds quarrelling with our contentious bellies.

We began the day on New York’s lower east side, a part of town brimming with Jewish heritage: Houston Street, Essex Street, Grand Street, Orchard Street- all painted with vestiges of a turn of the century immigrant history. The Lower East Side was once an epicenter for American Judaism, a neighborhood where immigrants, in particular Jewish immigrants, settled and developed a new capital of Jewish culture in America.

Arriving at our first destination, Russ and Daughters, at 179 East Houston Street, our feet were already pavement-weary, our faces coated with slick and salty sweat, our mind’s questioning our day’s work. But when met with the bounty of Jewish delicacies in the shop, we quickly forgot the weather’s curse, mustered our appetites and delved in.

Russ and Daughters is a polished yet authentic Jewish specialty shop filled with the foods we’ve come to identify with being Jewish- smoked fish, herring, cured salmon, caviar, chopped liver, and only the best of everything. We sampled items such as traditional pickled herring, rolled in dainty rounds, filled with tart pickled onions, rich chopped chicken liver like your Bubby made, tangy-sweet smoked salmon tartar, and the famous “Super Heeb Sandwich”, a pillowy bagel filled with creamy whitefish salad, horseradish cream cheese and the piece d’resistance- wasabi flying fish roe.

I honestly could have quit our adventure right then and there! The entire Russ and Daughter’s staff was not only helpful and courteous, but wholeheartedly joined in on our fun, teaching us eccentric and humorous Yiddish anecdotes, surveying our printed itinerary, and even taking our photo for their upcoming blog.

Just down the street from Russ and Daughter’s is Katz’s, a kosher deli dating back to 1888, a tourist hotspot and a quintessential New York Jewish deli. Some argue that Katz’s is overrated, overcrowded and unfriendly, but it is a truly historical New York experience, and a truly Jewish one. There’s something mischievous about eating at Katz’s: the ominous, never-ending rows of tables, the World War II décor, the ever-effusive patrons, the conveyer belt efficiency of the staff.

Some argue that the service is unpleasant and even abrasive. But let’s be honest, who comes to Katz’s Deli for the Michelin star service? They come to take a bite out of truly mouth-watering, spicy, juicy brined pastrami on rye, some of the city’s best. They come for the corned beef, the hot dogs, the tongue. They come for the tart, mouth-puckering dill pickles and pickled green tomatoes. They come to remember their pasts- the boys of World War II. They come to revel in their present- the salty, juicy deli meat filling their bellies and the frothy, sublime egg creams. Little known Katz’s fact: their latkes are splendid discs of perfectly crunchy and lightly salted potato with a piping hot, soft interior; a surprising find for folks not known for their latkes. We also ordered a mandatory Kasha filled knish, a staple of the Jewish household of yore.

At this point, you are probably thinking, “did they possibly move forward, did they possibly consume more? “ Yes, we did move onward and we did eat more, although begrudgingly at this juncture. The heat of the mid-afternoon sun was becoming increasingly oppressive. On our walk to our next destination, we had to seek shelter in a hole-in-the-wall convenient store, air conditioners lovelingly blowing blusteringly cold wind onto our sun kissed backs, providing us with a fleeting moment of reprieve. Our stomachs were growling, filled with the relics of our mornings work while our lungs and hearts were working overtime, fighting nature’s torridness.

And unfortunately, our subsequent two destinations were closed for the Sabbath. It is obvious you are dealing with a secular bunch when Jewish gastronomy day is planned on the Sabbath!

Guss’s Pickles on Orchard Street is the place to go for a briny bite of Jewish history. They offer an array of pickles including garlicky kosher sour, the salty half-sour, the spicy pickle and the pickled green tomato. Just down the street, Kossar’s Bialys was also resting for the Sabbath and thank goodness for small favors: could we really consume another carbohydrate?

Yes, apparently we would could. And we did. Our next stop features otherworldly carbs, like manna from heaven! Mark Isreal’s Doughnut Plant’s confections are astonishing- pillowy doughnuts so fluffy they melt in your mouth like cotton candy. We sampled the Valrhona chocolate, mango glazed and coconut cream doughnuts, although the coconut cream blasted the competition out of the sugary water with its subtle sweetness, coconut glaze sprinkled like snow on the outside of the yeasty pastry, a refined coconut cream running evenly through the perimeter of the doughnut like a silken river. Mr. Isreal makes use of only the freshest and most high quality ingredients, including fresh fruit in the glazes, high-end chocolate and homemade jelly.

Before our final and most memorable eating experience of the day, we made a required stop at the educational Tenement Museum at 97 Orchard Street. The tour takes you deep into the past, directly into the lives of newly minted Americans and their preserved home, a tenement built in 1863. The building has been restored to display the dismal living (and in-home working) conditions of the immigrants that inhabited the building over the course of half a century.

Our night began and ended not on the Lower East Side, but in Little Odessa in Brighton Beach (Brooklyn). We stumbled into Primorski in a collective delirium, more hungry for the air conditioner and stiff seats than for the actual meal and the cruise ship-like ambiance. Our experience at Primorski was truly trippy, authentically Russian, cheesy to the max and more kitschy than Pee Wee Herman. Everything at Primorski is grandiose and over-the-top.

This is the place to go for a never-ending Russian/Georgian family style meal, all you can drink vodka, live technoesque Europop, all under dizzying disco-lights. Suffice it to say that words cannot convey the utterly hilarious and simultaneously bizarre experience of Primorski. The restaurant is a dimly lit, windowless ballroom and as the night progresses and the patrons become increasingly intoxicated, the music crescendos and frenetic dancing fills any potential void in the sprawling room. Like clockwork, the singers treated the eaters to their raspy rendition of “Happy Birthday” eleven times, complete with larger than life birthday cakes. We began to assume that we were not only the only non-Russian speakers in the room, but also the only table not celebrating a birthday.

Some of the food at Primorski was questionable, at least to our sensibilities, which was okay, since the banquet menu is essentially ceaseless. We jettisoned the seafood dishes in favor of salty meats and the plethora of carbohydrates. The menu went something like this: crab salad, chicken in jelly, Caesar salad, eel salad, seafood salad, duck salad, chicken in jelly, herring, pickled tomatoes, cucumbers and cabbage, smoked fish platter which included smoked white fish, smoked salmon, smoked sturgeon, various cold cuts including tongue, galantine, smoked pork meat and other mysterious meats, crispy fried potatoes with garlic, khachapuri (Georgian bread patty filled with cheese), bilinis with red caviar, warm seafood platter, chicken Kiev, various fried meats, a fruit platter and fruit filled crepes. If you feel exhausted reading that list, try to be on the receiving end of the plethora of shameless gluttony, especially after a marathon day of excessive eating.

We ate, we drank, we conquered. Our first annual Jewstalgia was filled with great food, vivid history, bright new memories forged and yes, nostalgia.

Katz’s Deli
205 E Houston St
New York, NY 10002
(212) 254-2246

http://www.katzdeli.com/

Guss’s Pickles
87 Orchard St
New York, NY 10002
(212) 334-3616

http://www.gusspickle.com/

Kossar’s Bialys
367 Grand Street
New York, NY
(877)-4-BIALYS

http://www.kossarsbialys.com/

Doughnut Plant
379 Grand St
New York, NY 10002
212-505-3700
www.doughnutplant.com

Primorski
282 Brighton Beach Ave #B
Brooklyn, NY 11235

http://www.primorski.net/

The Tenement Museum
97 Orchard Street
www.tenement.org/tours.html

I continue the trend with my Ode To The Sandwich (with recipe below).

Marbled pumpernickel
Thickly toasted white
Carbohydrates aplenty, have to take a bite

Turkey, pastrami
Liverwurst and onion
A concoction hefty enough even for Paul Bunyan

Aioli and horseradish
Mustard and mayo
Or nature’s condiments- simple lettuce and tomato

Make it a Ruben
Complete with Russian dressing
A deli style sandwich is hunger’s sweet blessing

An Italian meatball hero
A steak and cheese in Philly
A Greek gyro, topped with rich tzatziki

A pickle on the side
Or potato chips with salt
A lobster BLT, in my tracks I will halt

Lamb burger on a bun
A Cuban with shredded pork
Eat it with your hands, no need for spoon and fork

Grape jelly or peaches
Buck flavor tradition
Unconventional toppings, surpass the competition

Sticky or gooey
With cheese or peanut butter
Using Marshmallow Fluff yields a fluffernutter

Call it a Monte Cristo
Or a curry chicken Panini
Work the lunch-time magic, and you’ll be a sandwich Houdini

Charcoal-Grilled Greek-Style Lamb Pita Sandwiches with Tzatziki
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated, America’s Test Kitchen

For Tzatziki Sauce:
1/2 cup Greek Yogurt
1/2 medium cucumber, peeled, seeded, and diced fine (about 1/2 cup)
3/8 teaspoon table salt
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 small garlic clove, minced or pressed through a garlic press (about 1/2 teaspoon)
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh mint

For Lamb Patties:
Vegetable oil for cooking grate
4 (8-inch) pocketless pita breads
1/2 small onion, chopped coarse (about 1/3 cup)
4 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano leaves
2 medium garlic cloves, minced or pressed through a garlic press (about 2 teaspoons)
1 pound ground lamb

Accompaniments:
1 large tomato, sliced thin
2 cups shredded iceberg lettuce
2 ounces crumbled feta cheese (about 1/2 cup)

1. For Tzatziki Sauce: Combine cucumber, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and lemon juice in colander set over bowl and let stand 30 minutes. Combine thickened yogurt, drained cucumber, remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, garlic, and mint in clean bowl.

2. For the Patties: If using charcoal- About 20 minutes before grilling, light large chimney starter filled 3/4 full with charcoal (4 1/2 quarts, or about 75 briquettes) and allow to burn until coals are fully ignited and partially covered with thin layer of ash, about 20 minutes. Build modified two-level fire by arranging all coals over half of grill, making sure they are in even layer, leaving other half empty. Position cooking grate over coals, cover grill, and heat grate until hot, about 5 minutes; scrape grate clean with grill brush. Dip wad of paper towels in vegetable oil; holding wad with tongs, wipe cooking grate. Grill is ready when side with coals is medium-hot (you can hold your hand 5 inches above grate for 3 to 4 seconds). If using propane grill- About 10 minutes before grilling, heat propane grill on medium heat. Just prior to grilling, scrape grate clean with grill brush. Dip wad of paper towels in vegetable oil; holding wad with tongs, wipe cooking grate.

3. Use quarter of fifth pita and tear into 1 inch pieces, and discard saving remaining part of pita for future use. (You should have about 1/4 cup pita pieces.) Process onion, lemon juice, salt, pepper, oregano, garlic, and pita bread pieces in food processor until smooth paste forms, scraping down sides of workbowl as necessary, about 30 seconds. Transfer onion mixture to large bowl; add lamb and gently mix with hands until thoroughly combined. Divide mixture into 4 equal pieces and roll into logs. Gently flatten logs into rectangular patties, about 1/2 inch thick, 2 1/2 inches wide, and 7 inches long.

4. lace patties on hotter side of grill. Cook, turning once using spatula, until well browned and crust forms on each side, 8 to 12 minutes. Transfer patties to plate. While patties rest, place pita in single layer on hotter side of grill. Cook, turning once, until each pita is thoroughly warmed and faint grill marks appear, 30 to 40 seconds. Remove pita from grill and wrap tightly with aluminum foil.

5. Spread 1/8 cup Tzatziki Sauce inside each pita. Put 1 patty in each pita and top with tomato slices, 1/2 cup shredded lettuce, and 2 tablespoons feta. Serve immediately.

Yield: 4 servings.

We had spent a lazy Sunday morning lingering over food and beverages. Minutes turned into hours and after requesting several rounds of mimosas, tea, and coffee, after begging our server for refills on the complimentary mini-muffin basket, and after feasting on eggs Benedict AND cheese cake for dessert, our server greeted us tableside and asked “Are you ready to order?”

“Um, okay there, buddy!” We had been gorging ourselves for several hours, requested the young lad’s service almost a dozen times, and he appeared sheepish and perplexed when we shot him baffled facial expressions. That’s putting it mildly- my face was contorted into a giant question mark, complete with dotted I’s and T’s!

After he ran away, tail between legs, to pick up remnants of self-respect (and gather our check), we all burst out in uncontrollable, although uncomfortable laughter. We had developed a superficial relationship with this kid and he failed to recognize that he had already served us brunch and dessert and many, many drinks. I don’t want to say we were the bain of his morning, that we were voracious, ravenous pests, horrible heathens of hedonism, every servers worst nightmare, but we were surely demanding in our hunger that morning.

We started questioning our identities, wavering between confusion and laughter and started to speculate- were we that unmemorable, faceless gluttons in a sea of hungry infidels? Or was he just having an off-day? Or perhaps he’d been hitting the mimosas! Either way, it was strange in a Twilight Zone kind of way.

I tried to recall any similar circumstances that rang out in my mind, anything as oddly humorous, as quirky, perplexing. As I surveyed past eating experiences, I conjured images of undercooked pizza crust, soggy fries, forgotten orders, misplaced meal tickets, spilled beverages. Obviously, this is one of those “you had to be there” moments, but it has become one of those things we mention in passing, just for a quick laugh. I began referring to this event as a “would you like fries with that?” moment. And yes, we would have liked fries with that, but of course, our server neglected to ask!

Do you have a similar “would you like fries with that?” tale? A tale of humor, a tale of bad service, a tale of bad food, a tale of restaurant darkness?

“Would you Like Fries with That” Salt and Pepper Oven Fries

3 large baking potatoes peeled, cut lengthwise into 1/2 inch-wide pieces, each piece cut lengthwise into 1/2 inch strips
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon pepper

1. Place rack in top third of oven and preheat to 400 degrees.

2. Place potato strips on rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and toss to coat. Roast 25 minutes. Using spatula, turn fries over. Roast until tender and golden brown around edges, about 25 minutes longer.

3. Mix salt, pepper, and sugar in small bowl. Sprinkle over fries.

Yield: Serves 6.

I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this berry before! Although it isn’t something I would partake in on a regular basis (you know, due to that deep-seated fear that the alteration will “stick,” much like that obscenely hideous face I made as a kid to irk my parents).

The plant, known scientifically as synsepalum dulcificum, is an evergreen native to tropical West Africa and the berry is known as miracle fruit for its ability to trip up the taste buds, leaving people tasting sweet when they are really consuming something sour, for example. The berry contains a glycoprotein molecule and when eaten, causes the extreme taste reaction. Talk about a spoonful of sugar helping the medicine go down! I’d like a bite of this fruit when I have to take bitter medicine!

According to the Times, Guinness with a dollop of lemon sorbet tastes like a chocolate shake. Tabasco became hot doughnut glaze. It states that the “berry rewires the way the palate perceives sour flavors for an hour or so…”

I feel like I’ve flavor tripped before. Eating at a restaurant like WD-50, you get experiences like Chef Dufresne’s take on pepperoni pizza- he renders the precise flavor of a pepperoni pizza into dehydrated balls minus the sauce, the cheese, and the meat. Pop ‘em in your mouth, let them melt, and taste your pizza.

I’m contemplating ordering a small supply or miracle berries and hosting a party of my own. An experimenter at heart, I love anything that whimsically plays with the taste buds and the mind. I’d love to swish around the berry flesh in my mouth, let it coat my tongue, and then suck on the rind of a lemon. Would it taste like a sugary lemon square? What would happen if I washed my mouth out with soap? Would it taste like cotton candy?

No, we’re talking a much more political poll: who is your favorite celebrity chef? The goal is to find out the obvious- are people lovin’ the bam-happy Emeril Lagasse, are they head over heels for lesser-known hottie David Myers? Are you molecular-gastronomically gaga for Wylie Dufresne, do you rock the tantrum-prone narcissist Marco Pierre White, or are you putting down your utensils and throwin’ up your hands for Bravo sensation, the Craft-y Tom Colicchio?

Like it or not, TV chefs have greatly influenced the way we view the food industry. The celebrity chef of today can gain rock star status without even demonstrating veritable cheffing ability (ehem, Rachel Ray). Someone like Ms. Ray is a powerful celeb first, and a chef, or should I say cook, second. With celeb gossip-infused websites like People.com, Perezhilton.com, and gawker.com infiltrating the World Wide Web, it is no wonder we’ve placed these folks on an overly-enthusiastic pedestal. America has whipped up a recipe for a new breed of celebrity with its unapologetic obsession with all things famous along with its obsession with food.

Unlike the simple good-ol’-days, we live in a television-saturated world and our TV’s are studded with images of the rambunctious Gordon Ramsey and the grill-happy Bobby Flay.

Back in the day, we watched Julia Child on public television with twinkling stars in our eyes. At the time, Julia was one of a kind- fresh, unique, gratifying, and most of all, distinguished. Julia was the original food TV star and yet, she was so much more. She was a cultural icon, a woman of class with bona fide skills and we loved to watch her in action. Her methods were technical and truly informative. Many others followed suit and eventually, we wound up with TV chefs as the holy grail of the food industry.

Even well-trained professionals like Emeril, who I had the pleasure of meeting BEFORE he went nuts on TV, have gone the way of the marketing-maven. He has morphed from respected New Orleans chef into an international television star, product-pusher, and fame-whore. He has also become increasing macho and dummed down as his fame grows. Gone are the days of technique and food history. Present is a studio-audience so star-struck and vapid that they cheer with glee as he throws a handful of parsley into a stew.

On one hand, cooking has become more en vogue than ever and the industry has been glamorized and galvanized. It has brought high-end food to the masses, at least via electromagnetic waves. On the flip side, food TV is experiencing a major dumming down, with less focus on true talents like Sara Moulton, for example. Celebrity chefs themselves often eclipse the food they are making when the focus shifts from the art to the artist. It can be argued that this type of chef muddles the pond and dulls the industry. Cookbooks no longer feature images of silken pie, glazed roast chicken. Today, more often than not, cookbooks feature 15 inch glossies of famous faces. People are buying the books for the faces that grace the cover, rather than the food that studs the pages.

I was curious to calculate the effects of the celebrity chef had on the general public; this means my friends, of course. I wanted to know if they might prefer a neighborhood chef from their favorite corner bistro rather than those who appear on TV. Unfortunately, my suspicions were confirmed. I don’t claim to be above the influence of the Food Network, by the way. I often tune in to catch Ina Garten in her kitchen making crispy fish and chips or mixed berry pavlova. I also adore Top Chef.

I polled ten of my friends and family members. I asked a simple question: who is your favorite chef? I received answers like Alton Brown, Tom Colicchio, Anthony Bourdain, Dave Lieberman. One friend listed her significant other. And a few enjoyed lesser known gems- Roy Finnamore, author of One Potato, Two Potato and Ric Orlando, of New World Café in Saugerties, New York. Mr. Orlando did do time as a TV chef, but of the local variety, at WMHT in Albany.

I was truly surprised at how many prefer the chefs they see on television rather than those whose food they eat. But it proves my point- the celebrity chef has infiltrated our culinary society and has influenced the way we think about food. It seems celebrity chefs are taking over the world.

2- Eat enough fruit and veg to keep the engine running smoothly

3- Eat at least one piece of chocolate a day, preferably dark and preferably Valrhona

4- Always eat carbs- they are necessary for energy, especially at breakfast

5- Keep a healthy stash of cheese in fridge- a parm, a blue, a goat, a double or triple crème

6- Always try new flavors, new recipes, new combinations

7- Drink tea every morning (and noon, and night)- the more high quality, the more caffeinated, the better

8- Dine together as a family and switch off all electronics- phones, televisions, lawnmowers and other heavy machinery

9- Drink fine wine, even with burger and fries

10- Put truffle oil on everything

Looking back, I remember the “oohs” and the “aahs” as she served forth her tangy, tart, and sweet brisket, so tender it would fall off the bone (if it had bones, which it doesn’t). We’d weave and bob in excitement, anticipating her light-as-air matzo balls and richly flavored chicken soup. Although, oddly enough, nothing held a candle to that first bite of egg dipped in salt water, no matter how boring and anonymous a morsel; the egg- a symbol of mourning, the salt water -the tears. Boy, that’s just chuck full of irony!

I suppose I could do the expected and post a whimsical selection of versatile Passover recipes. Or, I could leave you with this: another installment of Haikus for Jews, Passover edition. So, grab your sacrificial lamb, a glass of Elijah’s Zinfandel, and a fragrant bouquet of Karpas and enjoy:

Search under the couch
The afikomen hidden
Now pay me money

Don’t open the door
Or the prophet Elijah
Will drink all our wine

Sinkers or floaters
“There really is no debate”
Says my dear bubby

Blood on my front door
The sacrificial lamby
On our Seder plate

I love matzo brei
Put it in my tummy now
With maple syrup

Karpas and Maror
Symbolize the holiday
A Passover feast

Let my people go
But when do we eat dinner?
Bring on pickled carp!

Gifelte Fish swims
Macerated bits of fish
In a pool of slime

More Haikus for Jews
by Danielle Lipes and Kate Sonders

the hard matzo ball
better than the floating kind
it makes me quiver

I ate the brisket
oiy how it filled my tummy
no room for the borscht

I want a pickle
with my pastrami sandwich
at the Jew deli

sips of red, red wine
Manishevitz makes me smile
bring on the plum wine

afikomen now
matzo, matzo burning bright
I smell your presence

I cook the koogle
with potato or noodle
I like sweet and salt

chewy and Jewy
gefilte fish is spongy
gelatin surrounds

sing the four questions
salt water and potato
precedes the ten plagues

Woody Allen sits
at a table in Times Square
Carnegie Deli

“Snow! No!” This was my initial response to witnessing my first snowfall in four years. It is astonishing how quickly my blood thinned as a result of living the warm and toasty life in Southern California. My body is currently experiencing a goose-bump-inducing shock. Frankly, I do not enjoy being cold as a witch’s you-know-what: I begin shivering uncontrollably, which, of course, makes me hungry.

In honor of New York State’s first snowfall, I began a mental list of snow treats. Now, this list is consummately hypothetical. If the atmosphere was wholly sanitary and the breathable air as pure and sweet as that which is dispensed from a Las Vegas oxygen bar, I would be eating a pile of clean, virgin snow this moment!

Unfortunately, the atmosphere is, simply put, putrid. Therefore, you may end up consuming an acid rain snow cone, topped with sugary CO2 emissions. These snow-based desserts are purely hypothetical and as you pretend to eat them, enjoy your imaginary brain freeze!

The first snow dessert is the universal snow cone, otherwise known around the world as snowballs, piragua, raspados, ais kacang, bingsu, or juski. For the popular American treat, gather a bucket full of snow and scoop the shaved ice into little paper cups. Pour on your syrup flavor of choice and enjoy. For a more international treat, feel free to add fruit cocktail, red beans, agar agar, evaporated milk, sweet taro or chestnuts. You can buy snow cone syrup at many retailers, such as Nature’s Flavors, Rio Syrup Company or at Hawaiian Shaved Ice. Otherwise, you can make your own with sugar, water and your favorite powdered drink mix.

Sugar on Snow is a favorite treat of Vermonsters. Pour heated maple syrup (use candy thermometer to reach 233-234 degrees) onto packed snow, which yields a taffy-like candy. It is usually served with unadorned doughnuts, coffee and sour pickles. The pickles serve to cut the sweetness of the candy. Perfect for late night cravings!

You can also create ice cream made from fresh fallen snow. This blustery treat is made from snow, sugar and milk. Mix together a cup of cream, a half cup of sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla. Stir in the snow and eat before it becomes ice cream soup!

As the snow continues to fall and the season becomes colder, keep one thing in mind. In the words of the late, great Zappa, “watch out where the Huskies go, don’t you eat that yellow snow”.