DIFFERING FLESHPOT DREAMS

There's an old joke that you have probably heard some version of before: Two Dutchmen are marooned on a desert island. Years later, when they are finally found, they give their rescuers a tour, showing them how they occupied their time and tried to re-create civilized life in the midst of a wilderness.
"This is my church. And that is his church".
Then somebody asks "what about that third church over there"?
"Oh, them!"


Over on Tzipporah's blog (Midianite Manna) there's a discussion about Peysach. And food.
Tzipporah's good man is multiply allergic.
There will be children present.
And...... vegetarians.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!


Can't get more aaaaaaaaaaaaaaack than that, really.

Midianite Manna is, understandably, a wee bit 'stressed'.

I sympathize. Food is fun. But food is frustration.



KOSHER LE WHATEVER

Several times over the last twenty years I have attempted to explain to my own eishes chayil the intricacies of kashrus. Savage Kitten, as you know, is Cantonese-American. So her concepts of food are typically Chinese, but coupled with American exposure and a vibrant Southern-Chinese fascination with what other folks are eating.


"IS IT EDIBLE?"


Most Cantonese people do not quite understand food taboos. Such things seem incredibly 'white' to them. "Waddya mean we can't eat it? Isn't it edible? Does it not bleed?"
Added to that, the Chinese have a passionate appreciation for four-legged treifus that rivals that of the ancient Celts. A pig, to a person from that background, is a fabulous beast.
Savage Kitten 'gets' that Jews do not eat pork. Fine by her, that simply means more for everybody else.

When I tried to explain that certain other tasty things were also out of the question, she shushed me after several minutes of snapper ve kaskeses. The next night she cooked giant shrimp with a butter and fishpaste dressing. It was .... disturbingly delicious.

She absolutely draws the intellectual line at kitnios. When I attempted to clarify the issue, she snapped "oh hush, crazy white man!"
No beans, no seeds, no rice..... clearly I had lost my mind. If not me, then several of my associates.

She still finds it incredible that I don't gift my friends with food. Especially around Easter. 'Sweetheart', I will say, 'chocolate has a whole variety of kitnios.....'
"Well, what about a bottle of whiskey?"
'Errrrrrmmmmm, chometz......'
"There you go again, speaking that goofy white man's language!"

The nearest she comes to understanding Passover is that it somehow involves slaughtering a tender little goat. She's fine with that. Roasted goatling. Yum. Succelent and delicious. Every year she looks forward to watching Charlton Heston chewing up the scenery. It's one of the best bad movies ever.
And the closest she'll ever come to religion.


ETHNIC FOOD

On the other hand, she thoroughly understands that only certain lucky foods get prepared after the headhunt, or before raiding another tribe downriver and stealing their pigs. The description of the water buffalo sacrifice horrified her till I mentioned that it wasn't the only carabao, the rich clan had many others. The pig feast in the highlands elicited a question about spices and washing the crispy skin with coconut juice while the beasts were roasting. And could I also please describe the other dishes.

Maybe I should try to teach her about lumeri mura and lumeri tuwa - the two festivals that mark the beginning and end respectively of the headhunting season after the last harvest of the year, when the rains sweep in from the ocean and new rice wine is drunk, or aremakuwa, after the equinoxes, when it is fortuitous to open a business or start a new venture. As long as it involves a sumptuous array of food, she'll be okay with it.


I don't think that will work for Tzipporah, however.

So, be a mensh, and go to her blog to either share your food ideas, or commiserate.