Shavuot Recipes: Gluten-free Macaroni and Cheese

I'll tell you this right now: There is absolutely zero that is healthy about this recipe. Although I measured a few things, I'm very much in a "play it by feel" kind of recipe experience.

Ingredients
1 package cooked Tinkiyada gluten-free elbow noodles
2 cups milk separated into 1.5 and .5 cups
4 Tbls tapioca starch
1 tsp mustard powder
salt and pepper
plenty of shredded cheese (I used cheddar and mozzarella)

Directions

1. Cook the Tinkiyada noodles according to package instructions. 
2. When the noodles are about 5 minutes from being done, start on the sauce. 
3. In a bowl, whisk together the .5 cups milk with the tapioca starch until combined and not lumpy. 
4. Heat 1.5 cups milk over a medium heat until it starts to steam slightly. 
5. Mix the starch/milk mixture into the milk on the stovetop and add in the mustard powder, salt, and pepper. 
6. Throw in as much cheese as you want and continue to stir as the cheese melts. 
7. Go crazy with the cheese, and just watch as the sauce thickens. If it gets too thick, add more milk. 
8. Mix with the noodles, and enjoy!

You can also throw in peas, tuna, salmon, and any other interesting add-ins you'd like. This freezes really well, which is what I've done for Shavuot. 

Getting Ready for Shavuot Through Ruth

I've been seriously slacking when it comes to reading lately, mostly because when Ash sleeps on Shabbat (my exclusive reading time), I tend to nap, too. It's lonely in a quiet house, so sleeping passes the time. That being said, I've both purchased and received gobs of books over the past several months, received for review, purchased for pleasure (Jab, Jab, Jab, Right Hook by Gary Vaynerchuk and Tea: History, Terroirs, Varieties Second Edition).

For review, I've received quite a few stellar picks, among them two selections from the Maggid Studies in Tanakh on the books of Joshua and Ruth. Although I haven't delved deeply and passionately into the two of them yet, I have poked around Ruth: From Alienation to Monarchy by Yael Ziegler. I swear, every time I open the book the page I land on is full of poignant, relevant goodies. These books are very much written in an academic style, and I imagine had I stayed in the world of Judaic Studies, this is the kind of book I would have written someday about Rachav (can't wait to get deeply involved in the Joshua book for this very reason). 

A few weeks back, during Passover, I happened upon a discussion of Ruth -- a convert, perhaps the convert of Judaism -- being a devukah, which the author describes as the "act of cleaving to another ... the very opposite of selfishness." It essentially is the perfect type of relationship, it is the relationship that Ruth shares with Naomi, with Boaz, and it is how the relationship of husband and wife is meant to be, just as it is with man and HaShem. It got me thinking about my own relationships, with HaShem and with my own husband. Am I, like Ruth, a devukah? Or am I relying too much on myself? Not out of selfishness, but out of the stubborn belief that I can do and be it all. Nearly seven months have passed and I have maintained a home, raised a child, and survived the ups and downs and injuries and pains -- on my own. Yes, I've had the support of family, friends, and my husband, but by and large, I've powered through this all upon my own shoulders. That, friends, is not being a devukah. 

Then, just yesterday over Shabbat, I opened up to a section about Boaz referring to Ruth as an eishet chayil ("a woman of valor"). I had zero clue where this song/poem that Jews the world over recite every Friday evening sings of the only woman in the entire Tanakh to be accorded such a title. Mr. T recently spent hours making me a paper cut of this very song/poem and sent it for our anniversary in February, a special, painstakingly created gift of something that holds a bit of a tenuous history with me. I've gone nearly seven months without hearing the words sung by my husband, and it breaks my heart every Friday night to skip over it, but who wants to sing a song about a woman of valor to herself? 

To know that Ruth, a convert like me, is a face and name behind eishet chayil, is incredibly powerful. To know that hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Jews around the world sing a song merited by Ruth fills me with a sense of pride -- and responsibility. 

These lessons and thoughts are hyper relevant right now. Why? Ruth is read during Shavuot, which is the holiday that is coming up after the 49 days of the omer that we're in the midst of counting right now. These weeks leading from Passover to Shavuot are intense, meaningful, and meant as preparation for the giving of the Torah. 

I can't wait to read more in this intensely fascinating and well-written book. It's thoughtful, pulling from both academic and midrashic texts. It's perfectly balanced and, without a doubt, the perfect addition to my library!

A Shavuot Note and Roundup

Well, Shavuot is upon us and with the three-day chag, I couldn't be more excited. It's a chance to swing into Shabbat and recommit to your Jewish self and the Jewish people over Shavuot. All while consuming dairy. Yes, I've been rocking a largely vegan lifestyle at home, but after my quick trip to Boston (details forthcoming) to participate in an exciting conversation about Birthright NEXT with the Schusterman Foundation, I have to say my diet hasn't been so stellar. Dairy has been partaken of, so I'm going to continue the trend.

I'm spending the next three-four days up in Vail, Colorado, with Minyan Na'aleh for a Shavuaton experience, and I'm super stoked. As I sourced before, you know I'm going to be teaching about Rachav (Rahab), the Rabbis' Convert. As such, and if you want some Shavuot reading, feel free to download and read my take on this prized convert.

If you're in the mood for some Huffington Post, check out this piece I wrote last night that got posted today: On Shavuot, Recommitting to the Convert. If you're a reader of Makor Rishon, a right-wing Israeli newspaper, check out their section on Shavuot -- you'll find a story with me in it. (If I can find a link/translation, I'll post it.)

And, if you're interested, there's an article by Haaretz that highlights not only my story, but also that of the illustrious Leah Jones. Unfortunately the link is dead, but hopefully it will end up online here.

With that, friends, I hope that you find honey and milk under your tongue (Exodus 4:11) this Shavuot. Learn, live, breathe, and embrace all that HaShem has given you.

The Votes Are In!

Well, there's a clear winner in the Shavout teaching/learning query, and that winner is Rachav. Coming in at a close second is Qohelet, followed by Ima Shalom and then Tobit (Comedy Absurdum).

Really, no one is curious about Tobit and/or Tobit and Herman the Jew? Yes, I know Tobit isn't a canonical book for us Jews, but good lord is it a Jewish book. If you haven't read it lately, sit down and take a gander. Or email me and I'll send you a copy of either of the papers.

Thanks for voting, friends!

Shavuot: Help me Decide!

I'm super stoked that I'm most likely going to be teaching as a part of Tikkun Leil Shavuot -- Rectification for Shavuot Night -- the custom of engaging in all-night Torah study over Shavuot, this year during the Denver Na'aleh Minyan's Shavuaton up in Vail, Colorado. Yes, it will be three days of awesome learning, shmoozing, and enjoying the great outdoors.

When I was in West Hartford, I got to teach on my most-favorite topic: "Rachav the Harlot: The Rabbis' Convert." I haven't taught any other years, but I'm stoked and debating what to teach on this year. I have many specialties, but I thought I'd crowdsource the final topic.

So vote!

Shavuot is Coming, Do You Know Why?

I wrote this in 2010, but it was too good not to post again, so here it is -- my Shavuot post!

---

Shavuot is right around the corner, and by that I mean it starts tomorrow night! Have you made your cheesecake? Warmed your blintzes? Figured out where all those Lactaid pills are? But seriously, cheese aside, have you really thought about Shavuot? Have you considered what the chagmeans, what it stands for both historically and religiously? Or has it been Colby Jack, Mozzarella, Cheese Puffs, and more dairy?

I was blessed to have a professor who really stressed to his undergraduate students the importance of the historical and the religious of the three pilgrimage festivals (a.k.a. Shlosha Regalim): Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.

The funny thing is, they've all but lost their agricultural (that is, pilgrimage) meanings, and they've come to mean a variety of things: Pesach being the holiday where we eat matzo and do those annoying seder things; Shavuot being that holiday where we stay up all night studying Torah and noshing dairy; and Sukkot the chag where we sit outside in booths and swat at flies. But what do these chagim really mean, and why are they tied together so tightly? In reality, you can't have one without the other, and if you celebrate one or two but not the others, you're really missing the point.

In a nutshell, agriculturally and historically, Passover starts the grain harvest, Shavuot marks the end of the grain harvest and the beginning of the fruit harvest, and Sukkot marks ... you guessed it ... the end of the fruit harvest. Living in the Diaspora, you really miss the sense of the seasons, and as such you really don't get these simple and basic histories behind the holidays.

Of course, each of them have religious significance as well, with Passover marking the Exodus, Shavuot marking the giving of the Torah at Sinai, and Sukkot commemorating the living of booths in the Wilderness of the Exile. Again, these historic/religious events are cyclical and play a part in a timeline that is, without a doubt, connected. You can't remember the Exile without remembering the Exodus, and the giving of the Torah is sort of insignificant unless you understand why it was given, where it was given, and how.

What's my point? My point here is that these holidays aren't just about our modern observances. Much of what we know about our modern observances (especially about Sukkot) come from sort of a mishmosh of understandings of the Biblical and Rabbinic texts, and although they are just as valid as everything else, it's the basics that are found in the Torah -- in regards to the agricultural festivals -- that really evolved these three pilgrimage/agricultural festivals!

Are you still jonesing to know why we down lots of dairy (and Lactaid) on Shavuot? There are a few interesting and compelling reasons for this. Perhaps my favorite being that the Israelites didn't know how to properly take on meat before the giving of the Torah, so they opted for dairy, dairy, and more dairy, until Moshe came back down and told them how to properly handle meat. Another popular opinion is that it is the sense of Israel as the "land of milk and honey" that appears throughout the Torah that is cause for us to get all milchig over the two-day chag in the Diaspora.

Whichever opinion you like, just make sure you don't forget where Shavuot really came from and that it's the beginning of the next harvest season. You might say, I guess, that the Jewish holidays are "more than meets the eye."

Rahab the Harlot: The Rabbis' Convert

Over Shavuot, I gave a shiur on Rahab (which, actually, is pronounced Rachav, or more appropriately, here's the Hebrew: רחב), and I'd been planning on posting some form of the shiur here, so here I am. This paper originated in the Fall semester 2009 for a Midrashic Literature course. How did I happen upon Rahab? You know, I honestly can't remember. I wanted to do something with conversion, and I had originally intended to write about the Rabbi's views on conversion. The literature on this, actually, is pretty broad, so I narrowed things down to one, single, well-loved convert: Rahab ha'zonah. After some interesting mentions of "red cords" and "red threads" in various parashot, I've decided to continue my exploration of Rahab and some inconsistencies and curiosities about the red cord (related to the Passover, perhaps, but in sacrifices of repentance, the red thread becomes as such through the dying of the thread with a substance derived from a lowly snail, showing a rise from a lowly state [repentance] to a higher place [Rashi]).

Anyhow. Let's start with my intro.

In the Book of Joshua, the reader encounters Rahab the Canaanite harlot (zonah, זונה), who is charged with saving Joshua’s spies from imminent danger and as a result is herself saved from certain death at the hands of the Israelites. Subsequently, the Rabbis understand Rahab as mending her unfortunate ways, accepting the Israelite G-d as the only god, and becoming the ultimate example among the Rabbis of the truly righteous convert. They sing her praises throughout the midrash, particularly her wisdom in concealing the spies and negotiating her own rescue. Because the Rabbis paint an extremely positive picture of the woman who, according to the midrash, would marry Joshua and produce eight prophets, it is clear that they view Rahab as symbolizing “the positive influence that Israel exerts on the surrounding Gentile nations, as well as successful conversion.” Any negativity surrounding her occupation, her national affiliation, or the incident of her being spared – despite the commands of Deuteronomy 20:10-20, specifically 10-16 to “not let a soul remain alive” – is washed away and ultimately romanticized throughout the midrash, save for one instance citing Israel’s failure to commit complete destruction by sparing Rahab, which will be discussed in brief. The Rabbis clearly view Rahab as the ultimate, ideal convert, applying to Jeremiah, who is said to have descended from Rahab, the proverb: “The son of the corrupted one who mended her ways will come and reproach the son of the fit one who had gone astray.”

The most intriguing question, however, is why the Rabbis chose Rahab as an example to gentiles as the ideal, righteous proselyte – what attracted the Rabbis to Rahab and her story, prompting their message that if a harlot can convert, so, too, can anyone? This paper will address this question through a discussion of the midrash, as well as its treatment in sources such as those of Josephus. This discussion ultimately will show that what Rahab offered the Rabbis was the model of the repentant fallen woman who finds the true G-d and emerges as a matriarch of Israel, in a “Jewish setting apparently anxious for female figures of conversion and repentance.” Rahab thus becomes the paramount model of the righteous proselyte, indeed one that surpasses even the most well-known of the Rabbis converts, such as Jethro, in her recognition of HaShem's true powers.

It's a little wordy, and it was hacked down by quite a bit for my Graduate Presentation in March and even more so for my shiur. The thing is, for the shiur I opted to axe the academics/scholars from the mix. Dangerous? Maybe. But it fit the shiur better.

The paper goes on to detail the narrative, then examining how Rahab becomes known as a harlot, followed by an exploration of the Midrashic literature on Rahab as a convert in the eyes of the Rabbis, and concluding with a discussion of why the Rabbis chose Rahab over all others as witness to the righteous convert.

I've got a boatload of sources, including a variety that attempt to launder Rahab's post as a harlot (she's named as a perfumer, innkeeper, and more!). But smashing 18 pages into one blog post is, well, ridiculous. So I decided to just post the sources up HERE and the actual paper up HERE. Enjoy. Read. And let me know what you think. I apologize for any mistakes, errors, or assumptions that might seem absolutely obscene to you. After all -- this is an academic exploration of Rahab, but it caters itself well to a religious inquiry as well, I think. Here are my concluding thoughts (in case you're too lazy to read the paper, that is).

The ultimate conclusion the Rabbis drew from Rahab’s conversion is the superiority of repentance over prayer, for even though Moses prayed exceedingly, G-d did not accept his entreaty to enter the land. The repentance of Rahab the harlot was accepted, and the midrash concludes that seven kings and eight prophets were issued forth from her (Seder Eliyahu Zuta). That the biblical Rahab becomes transformed into a repentant convert and wife and ancestress of worthy priests and prophets in Israel reflects the Rabbis’ need to adopt biblical models of the welcome Judaism extends to all sincere proselytes – regardless of their past. Rahab is thus evidence for the Rabbis of the “efficacy of Judaism and its traditions in taming the disordering powers of female sexuality.” These stories are evident in the midrash, including a popular tale in BT Menahot 44a (and Sifre Numbers 115) in a discussion of the importance of observing the precept of ritual fringes, or tzitzit, by recounting the tale of a student who, while careful in observing this precept, himself gets caught up with a harlot. The harlot, after a series of events, ends up converting and marrying the student. This narrative, like the Rahab story, is appealing and romantic, juxtaposing some of the “risqué imaged details of its subject’s profession with a religious miracle and the spiritually elevating account of her acceptance into the Jewish community.” That this prized convert is a woman attests to something even more unique, and that is that there were more men than women proselytes mentioned in rabbinic literature. Thus, it is understandable that the Rabbis would focus on key individuals such as Rahab in their discussion of the female proselyte as a penitent courtesan.

As Phyllis Bird suggests, the story depends on a certain “reversal of expectations.” It is unlikely to expect a “shrewd and calculating operator” like a prostitute to save the spies and declare allegiance to G-d, but she does. The Rabbis, then, understood something profound about their choice as the ultimate righteous convert: “The harlot understands what the king of the city does not – that Israelite victory is imminent and inevitable.”

(Note: In the paper, I use the fully spelled out name of HaShem (I know, I know, not in Hebrew it doesn't matter, but it feels weird to me), because in academia, this is how we roll. I apologize if I offend you!)

Cheesecake Out Your Ears!

Shavuot came, saw, and left. Of course, it also conquered (mad props to the folks in my shiur for adding that neglected "conquering" into my talk on Rachav, wink wink). It was dramatic, dairy-licious, gluten free (for me anyway), and, well, long.

For the second year in a row, I stayed up all night getting my Torah study on. I woke up around 10:30 a.m. on Tuesday, went about my business, and then ended up in West Hartford for davening. We ate dinner with friends, and then headed off to the first bout of learning at the home of some excellent yidden who have the most beautiful interior (read: kitchen and sunporch) I have ever seen. After I got done coveting (oops) their cabinets and backsplash, I made my way to the sunporch, nabbed a comfy chair, and nestled in for the long haul. The first talk was given by a math professor, but unlike usual, he spent his time talking about a few songs and their connection to the texts (both biblical and rabbinic). There was even singing, which livened the audience participation and helped keep nodding heads awake. My resolve is now to track down those songs and learn them. The only one I can remember off the top of my head is "To sing is to be like the Jordan" (לשיר זה כמו להיות ירדן). Beautiful words, beautiful tune.

Next, it was my turn. I passed out my handouts (I'm an academic after all) with sources for Rachav from the Midrash and Bible, and began my talk. I like to keep things interesting, and I try to use colloquial language because I want to keep people awake and involved. I try to remain just informal enough that it's acceptable, you know? I like people to listen! And I definitely don't like talking at people. So I rocked my talk, which I'm still trying to figure out how to post up here in some fashion -- you might find something in the sidebar there to the right soon -- because the talk illicited a lot of really interesting questions and conversation. After it was over, I felt so good, not to mention completely reawakened. After all, it was 1 something in the morning!

Another fellow gave a quick talk and we all schlepped on to the shul for the second half of learning. We got there, meeting the sprawling group of teenagers that were funneling in, and then? The alarm went off. BURGLARY! BURGLARY! Talk about an inopportune time for the alarm to go off. I waited in the lobby and the policeman showed up after about 10 minutes (very prompt there, fellas), and I had to explain to him exactly what was going on. Late night learning, holiday, Judaism, blah blah blah. He seemed to buy it, so he asked if anyone had the code for the alarm. Alas! Only the rabbi. "Oh, I'll go pick him up and bring him back," the police man said. My response? "No dice." I explained that he'd need to get the code from the rabbi and then drive back with it. As he walked out the door, we also asked him to get the key to the ark. "The what?" he said. The ark! "You guys have an ark here!?" he joked. Luckily, right as he stepped outside, the rabbi's son showed up and saved the day with the code. Baruch haShem!

The rest of the night was kind of a blur. There were two more shiurim (let's not even get into the drama surrounding what happened with the third), and by the time davening rolled around at 4:45 a.m., I was exhausted, full of coffee and sweets, but unable to stand up straight. The interesting thing is that it was as if I were in trance. I stood, and I read the words so fast (you see, early-morning, post-all-night davening usually moves at the speed of light, which it did), and my eyes closed on their own. It was almost like I was experiencing the davening out of body. The words swimming around me. It was, in a word, weird.

I went back to the place I was staying, and crashed around 6:30 a.m. I slept off and on until 9:30 a.m., when I got up, got dressed, and walked to the other side of town to the other shul for a supposed 11 a.m. shiur that, in reality, didn't start until 11:45. I sat, half-alive, through their davening, tried to stay awake during the shiur, and then enjoyed a lengthy meal with a former professor and his family (which, can I say, is completely awesome). I didn't end up back over at my bed until around 5:30, and by then I decided it was futile to even attempt to sleep. I stayed up, forcing Tuvia to do the same, and we chatted with my hosts. Then came davening, then dinner at the rabbis (by which time I was practically loopy and giggling 90 miles a minute). I found my way home, rinsed off the allergens that had stuck themselves to my entire body, and went to bed around midnight.

All told, I had been up for nearly 40 hours with a nap probably clocking at two hours, max. I slept like a baby (which, someone pointed out, does not mean that I woke up every two hours crying for milk or in the fetal position sucking my thumb). The problem was that I didn't want to wake up for shul yesterday, and even after a short nap yesterday I still woke up exhausted. This morning it was painful to pull myself out of bed. I am exhausted. 


Luckily, it was worth it. All-night learning lends itself to a lot of interesting conversations and interactions, especially with people whom I probably won't see much of once Tuvia and I trek off to the greater NYC area. We're begging them all -- already -- to come visit, stay, and eat with us, and I hope they do. We've made too many good friends here to just wish ourselves away. But Shavuot this year was interesting, especially learning about some interesting characters found in the Talmud/Midrash called Mashiach ben Yosef and Mashiach ben David. 


Don't worry. I'm going to write a whole post on that. Maybe @DovBear will let me post it to his blog? Who knows. Shavua tov, friends. Time to get down with Shabbos now. 

Do You Really *Get* Shavuot?

Shavuot is right around the corner, and by that I mean it starts tomorrow night! Have you made your cheesecake? Warmed your blintzes? Figured out where all those Lactaid pills are? But seriously, cheese aside, have you really thought about Shavuot? Have you considered what the chag means, what it stands for both historically and religiously? Or has it been Colby Jack, Mozzarella, Cheese Puffs, and more dairy?

I was blessed to have a professor who really stressed to his undergraduate students the importance of the historical and the religious of the three pilgrimage festivals (a.k.a. Shlosha Regalim): Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.

The funny thing is, they've all but lost their agricultural (that is, pilgrimage) meanings, and they've come to mean a variety of things: Pesach being the holiday where we eat matzo and do those annoying seder things; Shavuot being that holiday where we stay up all night studying Torah and noshing dairy; and Sukkot the chag where we sit outside in booths and swat at flies. But what do these chagim really mean, and why are they tied together so tightly? In reality, you can't have one without the other, and if you celebrate one or two but not the others, you're really missing the point.

In a nutshell, agriculturally and historically, Passover starts the grain harvest, Shavuot marks the end of the grain harvest and the beginning of the fruit harvest, and Sukkot marks ... you guessed it ... the end of the fruit harvest. Living in the Diaspora, you really miss the sense of the seasons, and as such you really don't get these simple and basic histories behind the holidays.

Of course, each of them have religious significance as well, with Passover marking the Exodus, Shavuot marking the giving of the Torah at Sinai, and Sukkot commemorating the living of booths in the Wilderness of the Exile. Again, these historic/religious events are cyclical and play a part in a timeline that is, without a doubt, connected. You can't remember the Exile without remembering the Exodus, and the giving of the Torah is sort of insignificant unless you understand why it was given, where it was given, and how.

What's my point? My point here is that these holidays aren't just about our modern observances. Much of what we know about our modern observances (especially about Sukkot) come from sort of a mishmosh of understandings of the Biblical and Rabbinic texts, and although they are just as valid as everything else, it's the basics that are found in the Torah -- in regards to the agricultural festivals -- that really evolved these three pilgrimage/agricultural festivals!

Are you still jonesing to know why we down lots of dairy (and Lactaid) on Shavuot? There are a few interesting and compelling reasons for this. Perhaps my favorite being that the Israelites didn't know how to properly take on meat before the giving of the Torah, so they opted for dairy, dairy, and more dairy, until Moshe came back down and told them how to properly handle meat. Another popular opinion is that it is the sense of Israel as the "land of milk and honey" that appears throughout the Torah that is cause for us to get all milchig over the two-day chag in the Diaspora.

Whichever opinion you like, just make sure you don't forget where Shavuot really came from and that it's the beginning of the next harvest season. You might say, I guess, that the Jewish holidays are "more than meets the eye."

The Lucky Winner of Javaz Is ...

I am proud to announce that the winner of my Kosher.com/Javaz confections giveaway for a week's supply of Javaz confections is ....

MARK!

Mazal tov, Mark. I'll send your information on to the kind folks at Kosher.com, and your week's supply will be on its way to keep your buzz going during Shavuot! Enjoy!

Mad props to Random Line Picker for picking a random winner among the several entrants. More of you should have entered ... shame on you!

Mmm ... Coffee Sweets Giveaway!

Shavuot is coming up, and that means I need to prepare myself for all night study; after all, I'm giving a late-night (or early morning) shiur on "Rachav the Harlot: The Rabbis' Convert." Usually this means lots of coffee, not too much dairy, and plenty of sleep the day before. Traditionally, Jews the world over stay up all night on Shavuot, studying anything and everything involving Torah, and this means crafty ways of staying awake until morning davening. The interesting thing is that I remember reading -- somewhere, at some point -- that the Rabbis discuss, in the Midrashic Literature, the consumption of coffee in order to study into the late hours of the evening. In many cases, studying at night -- especially in the Middle Ages -- was the safest thing to do. Coffee, then, is in our bloods!

So here I am, partnered with the outstanding folks over at the world's largest online Kosher superstore, Kosher.com, to host a giveaway here on the blog for a special choco-coffee confectionary. Kosher.com, you see, recently became the newest East Coast reseller of Javaz's Dark and Milk Chocolate confectionaries. The most fascinating thing about this company? They select and roast coffee expressly for confectionary purposes! Oh, and it's kosher, which is always a plus!

So here's the deal: This giveaway is open for the next week (that is, I'll be drawing a winner at midnight on Tuesday, May 11, 2010 at 11:59 p.m.). What do you need to do?

1. Follow @kvetchingeditor AND @kosherdotcom on Twitter. 
2. Answer ONE of the following questions WITH a link to the product on the Kosher.com site. POST YOUR COMMENT HERE ON THE BLOG!
1. How do you take your coffee? 
2. What do you like to eat with your coffee?

Next Tuesday, I'll choose a winner at random, and that winner will receive a WEEK's SUPPLY of Javaz confectionary! Yes, that's right, a week's supply. That means one week where you can skip the Starbucks line, or better yet, save it all up for all-night Torah study! You can get a hefty dose of chocolate and a coffee buzz at the same time. That, to me, is besheirt! (That is, meant to be!)

Information about Javaz's chocolates: "The Dark is perfect for an afternoon pick-me-up or whenever you want to treat yourself. These artisan confections feature fair-trade organic Arabica coffee beans covered in exquisitely rich and luscious dark chocolate. The Milk, meanwhile, features fair-trade organic Arabica coffee beans smothered in melt-in-your-mouth milk chocolate!" (Also: They're Kof-K Dairy.)

NOTE: Only open to U.S. residents. Sorry Canadians and Israelis! But if you DO win, you can always choose to have it shipped as a gift to someone in the U.S.!

Perplexed!

So, I'm baffled at this whole omer beard thing. Who grows them, who doesn't? Can you trim them? Can you keep them cleaned up at all? I've noticed a lot of the Orthodox Jews I know don't grow beards, and those who do keep them very trimmed and neat. My Tuvia, on the other hand, doesn't. Our understanding has always been to let it grow, and let it grow as it will. So what gives?

And women -- do you shave? Do you just let everything go?

(For those who might not know, between Passover and Shavuot, men -- in honor of a variety of things, namely the death of Akiva's students -- do not cut their hair while counting the days, called the omer! It's like a period of mourning, even though at one point, prior to the death of Akiva's students, the period of the omer was a joyous time!)

Miles, miles, miles and shiurs out my ears!

Shavuot was, in a word, excellent. In another word? Exhausting. The best way for me to relate the entire experience would probably be a timeline, so here goes. Elaborative posts shall follow!

Thursday

7 p.m. Head to our dinner hosts' house to drop off five challot and a bunch of soda and some juice for the young adults' dinner after services. Then headed to our OTHER host's house (where we sleep) where we dropped our bags, dropped the car, and schlepped off to the shul. Clocked distance: 1 mile. 


8:30 p.m.-11:30 p.m. After a rousing and people-filled service, not to mention a delightful shiur by a 5-year-old boy about the giving of the Torah and the varying tribes (which he named in order), all of the young adults headed next door for our big dinner. There were about 18 people and a few babies and kids in attendance. The dairy meal was outstanding, and left everyone full for the walk to our first shiur-fest location. Thus, around 11 something or other, we all headed off our OTHER host's house (where we sleep) for the first leg of our adventure. Clocked distance: 1 mile. In the rain!


11:30 p.m.-2:15 a.m. There were a ton of people at the first stop, and a truckload (not really) arrived at the house not long after our group arrived. They flooded like a clown car into the playroom adjacent to the living room where all the of the adults were listening to a shiur on a new form of minyans that have been popping up where women are granted similar aliyot as men. I'll be honest: I don't get much out of some of the victimist feminist theories that are out there. I like to think that I'm pretty darn forward thinking, but I love the mechitzah, I love that men and women are granted different "roles" within Judaism. It's not defeatist or realist, it's just that I get how things are. The second shiur was absolutely fascinating, and I'll write a whole other post on it perhaps. Or maybe I'll get the fellow who gave the shiur to write a guest post! It was an interesting look at how the rights of converts truly parallel those of Abraham, the original convert. Just as G-d gave Abraham, so G-d gives to the gerim. I'm not doing it justice, so I'll wait and deliver some more thoughts later. The final shiur was given by the rabbinical intern, who spoke about an Epistle to the Yemeni Jews by Maimonides, which was about how to discern a false prophet. Fascinating stuff! And then? With a bit of exhaustion in my step, we all headed off to the shul for the final portion of the program.

Friday

2:15 a.m.-4:15 a.m. We got soaked heading back to the shul -- the weather was miserable, yet beautiful. The streets were quiet and the street lights glistened in the puddles on our trek. I stepped in a gigantic mud puddle, but managed to laugh it off. We arrived at the shul to a group of loud and rowdy teenagers, the same who were stacked into the playroom earlier (they were a huge group of NCSY kids, about 35-40 of them). I grabbed a hot chocolate, and we regrouped when everyone arrived, settling in the main sanctuary for another interesting shiur. I'll admit that my mind was a little floaty at that point. I remember it being fascinating, about whether a stolen item can be used to complete a proper mitzvah (like eating stolen matzo on Pesach), and I think there was even another shiur after that but I forget. It was hard to stay up, but it was nice to have a group of about 10 other people who were there with me the entire night, laughing and joking, schlepping around the shul in order to keep awake. Clocked distance: 1 mile ... in the rain!

4:15 a.m. Someone announced that we could start davening at 4:20 and everyone got really excited -- we thought we couldn't start services until 4:30. A friend and I ran out into the lobby to check the sheet with all the times but, well, there was no announcing time for the service, so we ran back in and it turned out it was a false announcement! People were slowly arriving for services, and everything had been prepared for the service start. Amen. I was exhausted, my knees hurt, I needed sleep!

4:30-6:00 a.m. The service was a muddle of Hebrew, quick traditions and readings. Everyone was in a horrible hurry to get home to their beds, so there was no singing, much to the dismay of myself and one of the other women there. We tried our hardest, only to be scolded (playfully) by a friend! The entire thing started and finished in one quick action, and it disappointed me. Here we are, in this ultimate, beautiful moment of reliving the revelation at Sinai and it's zipped through as if it were a grocery list for meat loaf and mashed potatoes. I wanted to say, "Stop! Slow down! Read slowly! Feel the words, breathe them!" But alas, I was exhausted, and my energy didn't allow me to protest. So there I was, standing, listening to a speed reading of the 10 Commandments/Decalogue, and I wanted to cry. Even as the words were quickly read, I still felt them, in my own way, and it was beautiful. 

6:00-6:20 a.m. I walked home from shul, alone half of the way and half with a few friends, in the rain. The sky was gray and cloudy, and rain misted in that annoying way where it isn't enough but it's far too much. There were few cars on the street and the birds were in heaven with all the wiggly worms crawling out of the earth. I arrived back at my host's house, having realized halfway during the service that I neglected to secure a way to get back INTO the house upon my morning return. So I arrived, sat on the front stoop, waiting for Tuvia to come out on his way to work or someone to see me sitting there. I sat in silence, watching the birds pick at the ground, the rain falling from the trees, and people driving by on their way to work stuffing breakfast sandwiches in their faces. What an interesting, beautiful world. Clocked distance: 1 mile. 

Around 6:45 a.m., someone happened to walk out of the house, letting me in. The someone had fallen asleep early in the morning while studying, and had just woken up. Lucky me! I went upstairs, said hello to Tuvia who was on his way to work, and fell not so quickly asleep. 

Friday-Saturday

Shabbat was like any other Shabbat. Services (with lots of Shavuot-y goodness), meals, socializing, davening, schlepping. I walked back and forth to shul twice, clocking an additional 4 miles. I ate more than any normal person should ever eat in a two-day span, that's for sure, everything from pizza to cheesecake to blintzes to lasagna to macaroni and cheese. I think every dairy food possible made its way through these lips. The entire weekend was long, filled with people and constant movement from place to place. By Saturday night I was absolutely worn out. I can't imagine what it would be like for Shavuot to fall on a Weds-Thurs followed by Shabbos. It might well be murderous to the social butterfly. Overall ...

I clocked more than 8 miles (my knees weep), 

heard about 6 shiurs + 1 d'var Torah by a 5 year old, 

ate more than 5 meals (not to mention snacks), 

and stayed up until 7 something in the morning one day. 

For my first Shavuot, in full, it was excellent, outstanding, educational, spiritual, and moving. Next year, I'll probably take a schluff on one of the leather couches between 4:30 a.m. and the full 9:30 service on Shavuot so I can get a "real" experience of the full service, not a rushed incarnation of it. But overall? Beautiful. 

Shavuot, Here I Come!

Every year, since I began studying Judaism, for one reason or another, I have been unable to participate in the all-night marathon that is Shavuot. This year? I'm finally doing it. I'm starting my evening with Tuvia at a friend's house after mincha/maariv for a festive meal. From there, we're walking with the group over to our host's house for some early evening studying until about 1 something in the morning. From there, there will be much studying and whatever else occurs at all-night study, at the shul until about 6 in the morning (services start at 4:30 in the a.m.). At that point, I'll be schlepping home for some much-needed shut-eye in preparation of Shabbos tomorrow night.

Now, I am fully aware that the origins of this holiday were largely connected to the harvest -- the Festival of Weeks (since Shavuot means weeks in Hebrew), which began with the harvesting of barley during Pesach and ended with the harvesting of wheat during Shavuot, is the conclusion of the festival of the grain harvest. Perhaps the more commonly and widely observed aspect of the holiday, however, is that Shavuot is the commemoration of the giving of the Torah at Sinai. Furthermore, it's become a big holiday for consuming oodles of delicious dairy delicacies, which is something I can really wrap my fingers around. Now, there are no Torah prescriptions for this holiday outside of abstention from work, special prayer, and holiday meals, but that hasn't stopped us from really taking on the many traditions of the day (or two in the Diaspora). There is a great mnuemonic device that is used to remember these customs: acharit (אחרית, "last")

• אקדמות – Akdamot, the reading of a liturgical poem during Shavuot morning synagogue services
• חלב – Chalav (milk), the consumption of dairy products like milk and cheese
• רות – Ruth, the reading of the Book of Ruth at morning services
• ירק – Yerek, the decoration of homes and synagogues with greenery
• תורה – Torah, engaging in all-night Torah study.

Of course, perhaps the biggest treat for me during Shavot is the reading of Ruth, if for no other reason than that Ruth is the tour de force name issued when it comes to converts -- she's sort of the mother of converts everywhere. Her name is issued often, as even after her husband died and she was asked by her mother-in-law Naomi to turn back to her family, Ruth followed Naomi all the way back to the land, stating fervently, "Your people shall be my people, your G-d shall be my G-d." Those, folks, are the magic words! I could write a lot more about Ruth, Naomi, and their fabled relationship, but we'll save that for another time and place. 

As for where the dairy consumption comes from, there are a few different ideas behind the tradition. One of the  most interesting, I think, is that since we didn't have the laws of how to properly butcher animals, the Israelites opted instead to eat dairy until Moses returned from receiving the laws. Makes sense, no? Another idea is that the tradition comes from the fact that Israel is referred to many times over as the land flowing with "milk and honey." Even further, the gematria (numerical value) of milk -- chalav -- is 40, which commemorates the 40 days and nights that Moses spent atop Sinai. Fascinating!

Right now, the internet is flowing with lots of blog posts on Shavuot, and as the holiday approaches this evening, Jews everywhere prepare to shut down their computers and cell phones to take on the two day chag -- after all, Shavuot is two days, but since it falls during Shabbos, it's really two days Shavuot mixed in with some Shabbos. Talk about an exciting few days. 

Hopefully, I'll come out on the other side of the chag with some interesting tidbits and reflections on schlepping across the neighborhood, downing lots of dairy, and hearing the book of Ruth read as so many Jews all over the world also will. It's a powerful thing, I think, and I'm so excited that for the first time this year I'll be there, experiencing it. 

Until then? I'll continue to watch the Spelling Bee on ESPN, dream of cheesecake, and nosh kosher berry muffins. 

Chag sameach! May your chag be filled with study, prayer, dairy delicacies, friends, family, and peace.

A brief Shavuot spiel.

Shavuot, says My Jewish Learning, "is among the least-observed Jewish holidays today. But the holiday is deeply meaningful, and makes up in theology what it lacks in ritual."

In its most simplest phrasing, Shavuot is the celebration of the revelation of Torah at Sinai to Israel. The holiday is directly connected to Pesach, which began seven weeks ago. Between Pesach and Shavuot, we count the Omer, and at the conclusion of the counting, bam! There is Shavuot, the festival of weeks (though it has many different names). The holiday also commemorates the harvest, and it is for this reason that some believe those in the U.S. and the Diaspora have a difficult time connecting with Shavuot, for it still has this agricultural significance in Israel.

Though there are no set mitzvot for the holiday aside from the typical (no work, etc.), there are customs that are incredibly prominent in observance today. These include

• אקדמות – Akdamot, the reading of a liturgical poem during Shavuot morning synagogue services
• חלב – Chalav (milk), the consumption of dairy products like milk and cheese
• רות – Ruth, the reading of the Book of Ruth at morning services
• ירק – Yerek, the decoration of homes and synagogues with greenery
• תורה – Torah, engaging in all-night Torah study.

That fourth one, yerek, was news to me when I began poking around to refresh myself on the significance and practices of Shavuot. On the upside, I do have a bounty of fruit in my home, which is also part of the collecting of greenery and fruits for the home. I've always wanted to engage in all-night Torah study, but to this date, I have not done so. It has logistically usually been impossible, and I thought perhaps this would be the year, but once again, work has gotten in the way (not to mention I took last Monday off and it would probably be seen as a little suspicious if I did it again).

However, the upside of this is that I can spend tomorrow evening and throughout the day tomorrow at work (in between odd jobs) studying Torah and reading the Book of Ruth. I recently read through Ruth while working on a project to compose entries for a Bible Dictionary in the works (my topics: Ruth, Naomi, Mara, and Tzipporah). The significance of the Book of Ruth for converts -- and for this holiday -- is profound, especially considering recent events vis a vis the revocation of conversions in Israel.

You see, the Book of Ruth is read because it corresponds with the harvest, as Ruth worked in the field with Boaz. Likewise, the book comprises the lineage of King David, who himself arose from the lineage of a convert -- Ruth. It is within texts like this that I sit back and wonder what a proper conversion for Ruth would have been like, and how -- after all these years -- we can still wonder about a convert when so much of Jewish history was shaped by a child born of a convert's line. Some of the greatest leaders, thinkers and artists have been converts of all stripes, as well.

Of course the best part of Shavuot -- or so most think -- is all the delicious dairy that is consumed. Myself being of the not-a-lot-of-dairy consuming variety these days, will probably consume just a little bit. I am going to a wine and cheese shindig tomorrow at Chabad in Wicker Park, where there will be a reading of the 10 Commandments. I figure if I don't make it to shul tonight, it is at least what I can do within the community to add to my personal study. I fell off the Torah-reading wagon a few weeks ago and have not been properly set back on yet, which is why you haven't seen much in the way of d'var Torah from me. It seems to happen around this time every year, though.

At any rate, I bid you all a chag sameach -- may your homes and mouths be filled with the words of Torah and may your hearts overflow as surely our ancestors did at Sinai.

It's my holiday, you know.

Shavuot quickly approaches -- do you know where your cheesecakes are!?

I'll have plenty to say, I hope, from services tonight and a wine/cheese party tomorrow, but for now I just wanted to offer up a link that Schvach shared with me over on the Shiloh Musings blog. To read it, click here.

Chag sameach!