Giving Thanks

I'm often asked about Thanksgiving in Israel. Do people know what it is? Is it celebrated? Can you get turkey? Cranberry sauce? Pumpkin pie?

One thing is for sure. Israelis might not know about Thanksgiving, but they know about Black Friday. It's caught on here, without the insanity of stores being open for 24 hours starting at midnight or whatever the shopping hours are. When I explain to Israelis what Black Friday in the U.S. is like they are incredulous. Who waits in line for hours just to get a TV at a bargain price? Who shops at 3AM? Who fights over the last microwave? Because Shabbat starts at 4PM, Black Friday extends at least until Sunday and possible longer. 

Thanksgiving, being the consummate American holiday, is celebrated by most Americans here. Traditionalists celebrate on Thursday, but a lot of people move the menu to Friday, celebrating both Shabbat and Thanksgiving with one meal. One of the hotels in Jerusalem has been putting on a big spread with all the traditional food for decades. I went once with an American friend when I lived here. Back then the food wasn't anywhere near the quality that it is today. I don't remember how good the dinner was; what I do remember is that it was a big splurge for a taste of home. 

On a per capita basis, Israelis are the biggest consumers of turkey in the world. But the idea of a whole turkey is a foreign concept. Back in the day, no one had an oven large enough to accommodate a whole turkey. Now it's a matter of who makes a whole turkey? Even in religious homes with large families, people make half turkeys or parts. So how is it that Israelis manage to eat so much? Shwarma (similar to gyros), schnitzel and smoked. 

Since we've been coming to Israel for an extended stay, we've celebrated Thanksgiving here 3 times. The first time was during our first visit in 2013 when the apartment we rented didn't have an oven at all, and only a 2-burner cooktop. I made a half turkey in a toaster oven. My fear was that it would burn on the outside and be raw on the inside. Fortunately it came out fine. 2013 was also the year that Hanukkah and Thanksgiving coincided, a confluence that won't take place for another 10,000 years. Literally. When I mentioned this to the butcher he looked at me with a blank stare, waiting for me to make the point. So to answer the first question above, not everyone knows what Thanksgiving is. Interestingly, in subsequent Thanksgiving years, when I tell the butcher I'm going to need something in November he says yes, a whole turkey. 

Cranberries and pumpkin are another matter. Pumpkin is grown here and used extensively in soups, couscous and stews. But pies are another matter. Pie is almost unknown, in spite of the American influence over food (peanut butter is very popular and locally manufactured) and the number of similar foods such as samosas and bourekas which come from a variety of food traditions. Cranberries can't be grown here but they are available in dried form. I'm not sure if soaking dried cranberries and attempting to make them into something approaching the cranberry sauce we're used to would work. Word on the street is that there's a store in one of the more Anglo neighborhoods that has all kinds of vital American canned goods. Two years ago one of our guests managed to find cranberries. This time I wasn't taking chances so I brought a can from home, but I wasn't going to try making a pumpkin pie because I don't know how it would work with the local parve cream. 

Every Thanksgiving has been different. Last night there were 6 of us. Two old friends, one new friend and a total stranger. Lots of food, laughs, stories and gratitude. 

When you don't have a rolling pin you just have to improvise

It's a good size kitchen

Thinking ahead I brought a can of cranberries. It got mangled by baggage handling.
Think about this the next time you check luggage.

This was a 7 kilo bird. It cooked in 2 hours. Nothing like fresh turkey.

Moshe, who is shorter than I am, attempted a table shot.

Shefa, Moshe, Sid

Shira and Nechlia

The aftermath

Hope your Thanksgiving was as nice and memorable as ours was.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid

You're in the army now ...

Unlike the US (and probably most countries) that has separate military branches, Israel has one army with 3 sectors: the "regular" army (infantry, armor, paratroops, intelligence, special forces etc), the navy and the air force.

The highlight of last week was watching our grandson Nir being inducted into the air force following 3 months of basic training. The ceremony took place at the Kotel; there can be no better place. We had the best seats in the house. There's an event space on the second floor above the Kotel plaza and Yafit, who heads the parents' group for Nir's section, reserved it for a party. There's always a party.

We got to the Kotel early and watched the rehearsal, then went upstairs. It was very emotional, watching these 18 year old kids and hearing them take their oath with the Kotel in the background. Something else that is unique in Israel. When they are sworn in they get both a rifle (M16) and a Tanach. The message is clear: this is what you're fighting for and this is what you're fighting with.

This story is best told in pictures:

Getting ready

Places, everyone, places!

The sign says "Combat Soldiers Induction"

"

Everyone is where they're supposed to be

What's a party without friends and family?

Who doesn't look good in uniform?

Nir wasn't the only one to go into the army. Sid started his two-week stint in Sar-el on Sunday. I wanted to check out the train from Jerusalem to the airport which is where the group assembled. The ride was quick (20 minutes) and on time. Most of the the route goes through a series of tunnels, which is why it took so long to build. Blasting through bedrock takes time. He was assigned to the same base where he's been serving for the past 7 years, packing medical supplies. He's home for Shabbat, which starts in an hour.

More next week.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid

Something New

We did a couple of things this week that were new, proving that no matter how much time you spend in Jerusalem there are always new things to discover.

On Sunday we went to Ammunition Hill, scene of one of the toughest battles of the Six Day War. Bill, Jane and Sid insisted that the 4 of us went there on a previous visit (23 years ago), but I have zero recall. Whether I was there or not, the site has been completely redone so it was new for all of us.

I've said this before and I'll say it again: no one does museums like the Israelis. First there is a film using original footage of the Six Day Way, particularly the 2-1/2 day battle for Jerusalem, and interviews with soldiers who participated. Then we went to the exhibit itself, which was very hard to find because the signage was terrible, also very Israeli. It's a self guided tour with automated commentary. No buttons to push; the sound starts and stops as you go through. The narration puts you right into the battles, with original sound tracks recorded during the fighting, as well as background interviews and descriptions. They got the fog of war exactly right, by using gauze over original films and sketches and drawings that morphed according to what was being described. 

When we arrived at the museum there were several groups of soldiers. What struck me immediately was that none of them had ranks. At first I thought they were in basic training, but when one of the soldiers, a paratrooper, struck up a conversation and I saw his wings, I knew these weren't recruits. So I asked who they were and what they were doing at the museum. He told me they come from all branches of the army and are training to be medics. The army is big on taking soldiers on tours, and you see groups all over the place all the time. It reinforces patriotism; you have to know what you're fighting for. And in the case of these future medics you need to understand what combat is all about, something this museum does very well. 

Some of the soldiers waiting for their tour to begin

A platoon under an olive tree

Soldiers are like interns. They take cat naps wherever and whenever they can.

Sid, Tamar, me, Bill, Jane having another small world encounter. Tamar, a docent at the museum, lived in Chicago for a year and worked at Akiba Schechter Day School with our daughter Jessica.

On Monday we did something I've been wanting to do for years. We went to a couple of wineries in the Judean Hills. The reason I've put it off is because I won't drink and drive, and you can't get to wineries on the bus. Two couple friends of Bill and Jane's happen to be in Israel now, and they are wine aficionados. They arranged for a van and driver to take us to two wonderful wineries and was it ever an education.

Once upon a time if anyone offered a glass of Israeli wine you would say no thanks. It was like that with food as well. That was then. In the past 30 or so years both food and wine have come a very long way and Israel is considered a foodie destination. Uri Buri in Akko was voted one of the top 25 in the world by TripAdvisor (so take it with many grains of salt). Even more impressive, Israel has 13 restaurants on La Liste, which can actually be taken seriously. It ranks # 21 out of 64 countries, putting it in the top third. 

The Judean Hills are an ideal place to grow wine, as it was during Biblical times according to the sources. Twenty years ago there were only 30 wineries in the Judean Hills. Today there are 400 and counting. Fun fact: there are more words in Hebrew for anything associated with wine than in any other language. The vintners are taking steps to become a terroir (an identifiable geographic location whose soil, sunshine and climate have an effect on the taste of the finished produce) and appellation  (the place of origin). The last time Israel had an appellation was in the 1950's for Jaffa oranges. This should take some of the guesswork out of the EU's campaign to blackball Israeli wines by labeling them as products of the so-called "west bank" as they just voted to do.

The first winery was Nevo, named for the owner, located on Moshav Matta. It's really a boutique, not like some wineries that call themselves boutique. They opened in 2002 and produce 12,000 bottles a year, mostly reds. Everything is done by hand (including harvesting the grapes at night) and under Nevo's strict supervision. We tasted a Merlot and a Cabernet, both 2017, both excellent.  They only sell direct to the public; you can't find them in hotels, restaurants or stores. For wine connoisseurs (and you know who you are) the website is nevowinery.com.

The tasting was accompanied by bread which had been baked in a wood stove at the winery, olive oil which they also produce, and cheese from a boutique cheesery in the Negev. The name of the cheesery is Mashkochit, which is the word for the lead sheep or goat in a herd who wears a bell. And I thought German was precise.

The 8 of us with Nevo, before the tasting. 

Nevo, the owner

Sharon, who led the tasting. She's a walking encyclopedia of wine and wine making

We had a whole course on wine before they poured the first bottle

The Cabernet and Merlot we bought

From Nevo we continued to Flam. They are a much larger capacity winery, producing 170,000 bottles a year, 70% of which are exported. Although far from a boutique, they are family owned and operated. We tasted a 2017 Classico Red (many of their wines are blends), a 2017 Reserve Cabernet, a 2017 Reserve Syrah (a wine that gets way too little attention in my opinion), a 2018 Blanc and a 2018 Rose. There was of course bread, cheese and olive oil to accompany the wines.

Golan Flam, one of the brothers who operate the winery. 

Tamar, who led the tasting

The week continued to be busy, with enough material to carry over to my next post. Shabbat starts early in Jerusalem at 405PM, and it's getting close to that now.

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem,
Peggy and Sid

Visitors' week 1

We're making up for lost time. It was a very busy week.

Last Friday our friends Bill and Jane Behrmann arrived from Washington. Friday is not  a day anyone should land in Israel. The airport was a zoo and they couldn't get a sherut (shared ride) to Jerusalem. They wound up sharing a taxi, and split the 400 shekel cost. A sherut would have been 65 shekels each, which is why everyone wants to take one. We also had Linda and Craig Smith, who were at the tail end of their first trip to Jordan and Israel, join us for dinner. 

I enjoy cooking here. It's a challenge figuring out how to compensate for not having a cuisinart, immersion blender and whisk. Or a decent knife. It's amazing what can be done with a less than fully equipped kitchen.

Table set for Shabbat dinner

I walked over to the King David to pick up Linda and Craig, and we had a lovely walk back. Friday night in Jerusalem is unique. This might be the only city in the world where a siren goes off 40 minutes before sundown to alert people that it's time to light candles. It's very peaceful, without traffic and street noise. On our walk back to the apartment they were amazed at how quiet the city is, especially since they spent the previous Shabbat in Tel Aviv, which doesn't stop for anything. 

I wasn't sure how long Bill and Jane would last, having travelled for 24 hours, but the 6 of us had such a good time we paid no attention to the clock. And there was lots to talk about, especially since Linda grew up a block from where Bill's father had lived. The world keeps getting smaller. It was 1130PM when we realized how late it was. Jane was a trooper; she came along when we walked Linda and Craig back to the King David.

Everyone slept in Saturday morning, but we went for a nice walk in the afternoon. The weather continues to be gorgeous. As often as I say we need the rain, I'm far from complaining about the beautiful weather. It's 80 as I write this. Saturday night we met at the Rimon to celebrate Eli's birthday.

Batsheva and Eli

Bill brought a long list of places they want to visit. A brief summary of this week: Israel Museum, Bible Lands Museum, City of David, the Shuk, Ben Yehuda, and the Mount Herzl cemetery.

Mount Herzl, which we've all been to, is the national cemetery of Israel. In addition to Theodore Herzl, many of the founding fathers and prime ministers are there. It's also a military cemetery, with sections for fallen soldiers from all of Israel's wars. It's a very large cemetery, with clearly marked sections, so you'd think there would be a directory of graves. But no.

We went there on Sunday in search of Esther Callingold's grave. Esther was an idealistic young (20 years old) Zionist who came to what was then British Mandatory Palestine. She died in the 1948 War of Independence. Her legacy to the world was a letter she had written to her parents back in England, telling them not to mourn if she didn't survive the war because she was doing something she passionately believed in. It's a story that's hardly known unless you've read O Jerusalem, but one that shouldn't be a footnote of history. She represents many idealistic Zionists of all ages and origins who came here to make the dream of a Jewish state a reality. We didn't find her grave, but the search was very meaningful. Grave stones in Israel aren't the stand-up headstones we're used to. They lie flat on the grave, and they have very simple inscriptions: Name, date and place of birth, date and circumstances of death. What stands out is how young most of them were and how many different countries they came from.

Fall colors at Mount Herzl

Now that the academic year has started, it's tiyul (trip) season. Once a month Batsheva and I go on a tiyul lead by one of the professors at the open university. He's remarkable. A brilliant academic with the personality of a guide. His trips to even the most inconsequential places are fascinating. This trip was to a town called Pardes Hannah, kibbutz Ein Shemer and a guy who makes passion fruit liquor. I can't say I was overly excited about Pardes Hannah, other than their collection of Torah scrolls including one that survived Kristallnacht.

The kibbutz, on the other hand, was fascinating. This is the sort of kibbutz that tourists should visit if they want to know what kibbutzim are all about. It was founded by 15 people from Poland in 1925. Conditions were terrible. There was no water source; water had to be brought from Pardes Hannah by donkey or camel. There were swamps, snakes and malaria. But the founders were determined, and in spite of the fundamental changes that have taken place in the kibbutz movement over the past 40 years (the shift from children's houses and communal meals being the most striking), it's still thriving as an agricultural enterprise. They grow cotton, avocados and wheat and they have dairy herds. We toured the fields by tractor.

The original gate, still the main entrance to the kibbutz

One of the original buildings

Gideon, a kibbutz member, with photos and a model of the kibbutz in 1925

The main building where everything took place. It was the dining room, meeting room and office.

Dairy cattle. Happily they are free to roam about. Not a tether in sight and no force feeding.

The tractor tour.

From the kibbutz we continued to meet the Passion Fruit Man. He has a computer and engineering background, not exactly what you'd expect for someone who makes booze. He inherited some land that had passion fruit vines and one fine day decided to try making brandy. After many trials and errors he came up with a formula and method and great results. Someone encouraged him to enter a wine contest in New York and he won double gold. I bought 4 bottles. The stuff is good.

The flower

The fruit

The guy

The product

The siren has sounded and it's time to light candles.

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem,
Peggy and Sid

Back to Normal

The transition from 3 weeks of holidays to a regular schedule has its own jet lag. On the one hand, enough already. On the other hand, it's such a great time to be here, fully imbued.

Classes resumed and/or started. I decided to try out someplace I only read about recently: Matan. It's not too far away ... about a 20 minute walk. When you know what you're doing. As sophisticated as GPS systems are, they're no match for the streets in Jerusalem which are woefully unmarked. At some point I like to synchronize my GPS with an actual street sign. Much easier said than done. Matan is pretty much down one street, which changes names 4 or 5 times, but the GPS didn't send me straight there. I made several turns until I finally arrived at my destination, barely in time, and the auditorium was standing room only. I knew I picked a good class to go to by the crowd, and actually we sat on the stairs. The speaker was amazing. The subject is Bereshit, the first book of the Torah, and she has a breadth of understanding that goes way beyond anything I've yet been exposed to.

On the way to Matan I ran into my friend Susan who was walking her dog. We had texted and tried to find a time to get together, but between her schedule and my schedule, we haven't been able to make a date. We had a few minutes to chat and then she was off to do her thing and I was off to do mine.

I've said this a million times. One of the reasons I love this neighborhood is because we know people here and running into them is easy to do. 

Speaking of running into ... we went to a lecture last night by a renowned Bible scholar who shall remain nameless because I was less than impressed. We'd never heard her speak, she has a stellar reputation, but I found her presentation disorganized, a little out in left field, and I had an issue with some of the theological points she was making. But, I did run into someone I studied with last summer at Pardes so it wasn't a total loss.

This will be short because Shabbat is about to start. We have house guests as well as dinner guests coming so I better start cooking!

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem,

Peggy