My family is by no means religious. Yes, I am Jewish but I consider myself more culturally Jewish than spiritual. I don’t quite know my thoughts on God, I can’t speak a word of Hebrew (despite 10 years of Hebrew school, sorry parents) but boy do I love Matzah Ball Soup.
I love how so much of Judaism is centred around family and food. Basically my two favourite things. I was spoiled growing up in a house with a ultra Jewish Mom, so much so that I am a total diva about my food. I am hard to please. And I know I will do the same for my children (along with a side of Jewish guilt #duh).
My Mom makes a mean kugel, my bubby was the master of meatballs and I know the only place to buy Gefilte Fish is from United Bakers Deli. Although, over the years it’s been funny to watch how our holiday celebrations and eats have changed. At one point there was no mixing milk and meat and now chicken parm is not a rare occurrence. We eat ribs, shrimp and maybeeee go to synagogue 2 times a year. Even still, I feel no less Jewish. At the end of the day, my gigantic family is always together on holidays and kosher-or-not, as long as the food is good then I’m happy.
I think it’s hilarious how my family has twisted the food rules for Passover. Technically you aren’t supposed to eat anything that can rise, including most grains, legumes, rice and corn. But apparently when the original list was put together (thousands of years ago), they were unaware of quinoa’s existence and since quinoa is technically a seed, not a grain we figure God is basically telling us to eat it! Right? Uhhhhh maybe not. But I gave it an Israeli twist so I feel like I should be partially forgiven…worse comes to worse I’ll atone my sins on Yom Kippur