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“Why don’t you finish your plate?” asked Batia reproachfully, “Don’t you like it?” She added in a heavy Hungarian accent. “I love it Batia, but I’m full,” I answered. “Eat up, you always must finish your plate”.
One of the first apartments that I lived in when I was a student was in a neighborhood filled with brick and mortar stores.Read more
“What are you going to make?” asked my better half when I was wondering what to bring to an afternoon gathering with friends. “I don’t really know” I answered. When I run out of ideas what to cook, I go shopping.Read more
“Mom bought those cookies that we love!” my younger brother howled at me as I entered home back from school. “How do you know?” I asked “it’s not passover yet” “I saw mom take them out of the shopping bag” he answered. My taste buds responded immediately and demanded immediate satisfaction. “Where is mom?” I asked, trying to avoid drooling. Read more
Ben and I clicked from day one. We met at high school. He was one of the kids that came from all over the country to the boarding school. On weekends he would go to his parents’ home in another city. After quite a few attempts at persuasion and pleas, my parents agreed to let me go to Ben’s for a weekend. “Do you eat matzo balls at shabbat dinner?”Read more
“Is there nothing else to eat?” I asked opening the pot on the stove. “No” said mom, “sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.” “No,I don’t like it, I’ll make something.” “What will you make?” Mom insisted, “salad” I answered opening the refrigerator. “But salad is not a meal”.
