OyChicago articles

Libby and Bubba, crawling like pros

When the men were gone and she could no longer think of the word for the thing she used to light cigarettes, my grandmother, Barbara Russakoff—Bubba to those who loved her most—gave up, wrote a note, and overdosed on anti-depressants and applesauce. And it didn't work.

That was seven years ago. I was sitting in a gray cubicle in Boston pretending to work when I got the call from my mom. I don't remember the five-hour drive to Bubba’s home in Skowhegan, Maine. It was strange to be in her house without her. For the first time I could remember, the large, round schoolhouse clock on the wall opposite the table was silent. When I was a kid, its tick was the constant soundtrack of summer. A few days earlier, Bubba had told my mom that it was just wound too tight and not to bother about fixing it.

We drank too much, playing cards and telling old stories. Bubba was, as far as I’m concerned, the best grandmother a kid could have. She was beautiful and wild, she smoked—as my mom explained—using each cigarette like punctuation. She played bridge and golfed, she had affairs with married men and painted her toenails coral, she made me chicken salad with sliced cucumbers, taught me to play poker and drove all over the state (speeding, with me perched on the armrest) to find the Blueberry Muffin doll I was desperate to have. She smelled like Salem Ultra Lite 100s and Jean Nate. She loved men who were unapologetic cads and told me to keep a list of people I would bite if I ever got rabies. She thought I was the best kid ever—aside from my mom. I loved her unconditionally.

And there we were in that kitchen without her. Rooting around for a bottle opener, my mom found an old grocery receipt. Bub liked to listen to the radio and write down quotes that appealed to her. In her arthritic scrawl were Mark Twain’s words, "The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."  It was followed by a reminder to herself: "Get cigarettes."

I would have been happy if that had been the official suicide note—those were apt, hilarious instructions. Then, on her desk, I found a yellow Post-It just big enough to hold her words: "Libby, don’t mourn. Be happy that I can do what I want! I love you." If Bubba had actually died, that note would have been the best thing.

When I went to see Bubba in the hospital the morning after her attempt, I thought about the year my friend’s grandmother died; I was four. When my parents and I visited Maine that summer, I was worried and I asked Bubba what would happen if she died. "Oh, I’ll still be your grandmother. I will just be your dead grandmother," she said easily. At the time, I was satisfied.

Bubba had been misdiagnosed with Parkinson’s disease three years before her suicide attempt. Her seemingly lifelong depression became increasingly more severe. Every time I called, I wondered if it might be the last time we would speak. She’d always been vocal about her plans to kill herself when she decided the time was right. But 20 years of contradictions between her words and her actions left me simultaneously expecting her suicide and feeling sure it would never happen.

In the hospital she was in pain and very confused because the large dose of drugs had caused hallucinations. In and out of restraints, she rubbed her heels raw trying to kick her way out of the bed. Bubba couldn’t move her arms much, so did the verbal equivalent of grabbing my mom by the sleeve when she mustered all her concentration to hatch a plan. "Call a cab." When my mom explained that she couldn’t, Bubba archly said, "If you wouldn’t be too cold, we could go sit outside on the curb and wait for the cab." Bubba is accustomed to getting her way and couldn’t imagine why my mom wasn’t following orders.

We’re not a religious family and often find in literature what I imagine others must find in prayer. Before I left her house that weekend, I came across a passage by E. B. White that Bubba had torn out of a magazine years before and stuck on her fridge: "Hope is the thing that is left to us in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness." I cried. My mom rolled up her sleeves with a sigh and sadly walked over to the old clock and took it off the wall. "Well, let's get it fixed," she said, hoping as I did that maybe Bubba and the clock would find their ways back to the little brown kitchen.

They didn’t. The years that followed were a mix of ups and downs, mostly downs, in various assisted living and nursing facilities. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, which sometimes came in handy for my mom when the staff called her about Bub’s bad behavior—sleeping around, calling people bitches, the usual nursing home stuff. Blaming the Alzheimer’s was much easier for us than trying to explain that Bubba would have said and done these things quite happily before she was sick—and even more happily if she knew she was pissing people off.



Bubba in her glam days

There was the time I brought my dog to visit, and Bub suddenly looked like a woman with an idea (or “idear” as pronounced in her thick Maine accent). She did always love a conspiracy. "Lib, could you train that dog to bite a nurse?" I got it right away: the rabies list. "It won't work. The dog’s had her shots." We sat and laughed until we cried.

And the time I called and we had this phone conversation, me in Chicago, and her in home number three in Portland, Maine:
Me: Hiya Bub, how’s it going over there?
Bub: I’m wearing a robe and there’s a man in my bed.
Me: I hope you know him.
Bub: (Giggling) Yes, that’s my boyfriend, Forrest. Your mom won’t let me talk to her about my sex life.
Me: Well, I’m glad you have one again. That usually perks you up. Forrest sounds nice.
Bub: He’s fine but he’s no Eddie or Carl.
Me: Hmm, maybe you’ll end up liking him more than you think you will.
Bub: No, I’ll never care for him much, but he does take his Viagra and the sex…
Me (interrupting—who wouldn’t?): Uh, that’s fantastic. Just great. So, tell me about Forrest, what did he do before he landed in the nursing home?
Bub: Oh! He screwed around!! I have to go, I’m proud on you!

She always said, “I’m proud on you” rather than proud of you—my friend Bevin once pointed out that this more aggressive form of praise was actually the highest, far as she could tell.

There was the time she told my mom she had a new suicide plan: her boyfriend Ed (married) would borrow his brother’s gun and shoot her. My mom, upon hearing this, couldn’t help it and started laughing. Bub got mad and went into one of her rants about how she can do whatever she wants and Jack Kevorkian is a saint among men and Mother Theresa is a fucking bitch. Never mind that she herself is a non-religious Jew and saints had been of very little interest to her in the past. Then she snarled, “Well, why won’t it work?” And my mom said, “Bub, Ed has Parkinson’s disease! He’ll never hit what he’s aiming at!” In the old days, the two of them would have laughed at the absurdity of it all. But Bubba just got very sad that once again, she had no way out.

Those were the semi-funny times when she had a rotating team of what she could call boyfriends—two of whom had one leg each, one who was legally blind and many with wives—and was always after my mom to buy a double bed for her room in the home. Back then we saw a glimmer of the old Bubba, even though she kept telling us she knew she was losing her mind.

The less good days involved her crawling into my lap and crying, pleading for me to smother her with a pillow. She explained that if I loved her, I could kill her and that I was a smart girl and would not get caught—and that if I did, the sentence probably wouldn’t be that long. Or her trying to get my mom to promise that when she died she would not cry and that she would leave her ashes at the cremation place for the garbage men. She didn’t care that I would be known in jail as “that girl who killed her grandmother” or that my mom would be that awful woman who abandoned her mother’s remains. If there had been a way for us to wish her dead, we would have because that’s how much we loved her.

The last time I saw her, about two years ago, she wasn’t sure who I was. I sat on her bed, she gripped my hand like there was something I could do. It felt like this was going to last forever, like it already had.

When my dad called last summer to tell me that Bubba died—from a heart attack uncharacteristically fast and drama-free—I crumpled to the floor, sobbing, miserable and relieved. It was, at the time, a shocking emotional mix. Looking back, I imagine lots of people feel similarly when they lose someone so loved but so very ready to go.

My mom wrote a beautiful obituary about Bubba’s competitive bridge skills, her humor, her strong belief in civil liberty and justice, her elegant cooking and how much she loved us all. There wasn’t a funeral to attend but there was an outpouring of support.

My friend Sam credited Bubba for my irreverence. Our friend Eileen wrote to my mom, “I'm sure that she felt that the best of her was in you and Libby.” My mom’s cousin said Bubba taught her that apple pie is a viable breakfast option. Diane, the woman who helped my mom navigate nursing home politics and became a terrific friend to her and Bub, wrote, “She was such a hot shit!” Bevin remembered knowing her when we were little and thinking that, with her teased-up hair and her stylish bright blue Reebok high-tops, she was far too glamorous to be a grandmother.

My fiancé Erik and I went to Maine to see my parents a couple of weeks after Bub died. My mom and I had planned to scatter her ashes behind one of the granite outcroppings in my parents’ yard. We'd had to give up our first choice of scattering them in the ocean because legally you can't release ashes until you're a few miles offshore. We may be from Maine but we are not marine people, so we chose the rocks at home.

In the morning, after coffee, my dad, Erik and I went out to the yard and my mom got the ashes. She poked her head out of the house and said, “Guys, I started thinking about something I'd somehow never thought about before—the wind.” In addition to not being mariners, we are clumsy people. We decided that scattering could end badly. As glib as we can be sometimes, no one wanted to hear, “Hey, you have a piece of Bubba on your arm.”

My dad said that he had a hydrangea ready to plant and suggested planting it on top of the ashes, so Erik dug the hole, my dad did the pouring and that was that. We spent the rest of the strange day at the beach and played some cards. Then, before dinner, my dad walked into the kitchen and said, “Well, I just watered good old Bubba.” We cracked up, realizing that in a sense, we’d given her a funeral and that it was one she would have been okay with.

When Erik and I went out East last summer, I checked on the plant, found myself saying, “bye, Bub” and then went to the beach. We played cards at the kitchen table, we laughed and told the old stories because we miss her. And, now that she is really gone, I got the clock out of my parents’ basement and brought it home.

Erica, in Israel

During the fall of 1999, I made an effort to see every sunset on the beach in Ashkelon until the air and water finally began to make my teeth chatter. Our beach trips were a highlight of my days volunteering in Ashkelon, but they weren't all postcard perfect experiences. Some of my companions got toppled by the large surfable waves or stung by the numerous jellyfish that swarmed the Mediterranean waters. Once, I tried to explain in my broken Hebrew to the lifeguard about my friend's jellyfish sting, but not knowing the word medusot at the time, I was stuck saying dag (fish) and making a zzzz sound.

Today, the people of Ashkelon are living underground. Schools and malls have been closed. The Chanukah celebration was moved to a bunker.  My interest in reading Israel-related news always peaks when the country is under attack, but an extra level of sadness settles in when the target is one of the places I lived and know so well.

I wonder what has happened to the immigrant absorption center I lived in as a volunteer on Project Otzma, whose residents at the time were from Ethiopia, Iran, Yemen, Russia, and Bosnia--many leaving terrible situations in their homelands. Now Hamas wants to tell them "Welcome to Israel, you're not safe here either."



An Israeli family takes shelter in an reinforced room as sirens sound in the sea town of Ashkelon, December 29.
Photo Credit: Brian Hendler

I always knew that Gaza was just a short drive from town. Many international workers stayed at the Holiday Inn in Ashkelon, escaping their hard days around the pool. But really, Ashkelon never felt like a border town. It was a full scale city where people complained more about the humidity than any potential dangers from our neighbors to the south—the north of Israel always felt to be more of the potential war zone. Kiryat Shmona and the northern kibbutzim faced the threat of ketyusha rockets from Lebanon. Even in Karmiel, a town slightly farther south, I had the surreal experience of watching a TV warning for the residents of the towns just to north of me to go down to bomb shelters as ketyushas rained.

Ashkelon, I hope that one day soon you can return to a state where it feels safe to go outside. Where children can play in the immigrant absorption center courtyard. Where you can learn, work and live freely as Israelis. Where you can watch the sunset on the beach and your greatest fear will be jellyfish.

Learn more and read local reactions to the situation in Gaza.

Jeff Ruby

As a kid growing up in Wichita, Kansas, Jeff Ruby thought Chi-Chi’s was the height of culinary excellence. And a little over a decade ago, he had a job interview with  Chicago Magazine’s  dining editor Penny Pollack that went a little something like this:

Pollack: Do you know anything about food?
Ruby: No, not really, I had Taco Bell on the way over here.

Pollack: Do you know anything about Chicago?
Ruby: Well, I just got here last week, so, you know, I don’t claim to know anything about Chicago either.

He doesn’t exactly possess the typical Jewish obsession with food, nor is he the most likely candidate to write what are arguably the most trusted dining reviews in Chicago.

And yet, for the last 11 years, Ruby has worked his way up the totem pole from fact-checking restaurant hours and addresses and being hazed with assignments to review Rainforest Café and Hard Rock Café – “the amphibian and guitar beat” – to his current position as Senior Editor for the magazine, not only writing about food and dining, but also penning a monthly column called The Closer about, well, whatever he wants. And that includes testing whether Ferris Bueller really could have fit all of his legendary Day Off antics into a single school day.

Ruby is the first to admit that his job is a pretty sweet deal for a guy who tried to do as little traditional reporting and as much writing in his own voice as possible during his two years of journalism school at the University of Kansas: “I’m getting paid to sit in a corner office in a big city, overlooking the river, with a blank screen in front of me and people just waiting for me to fill it,” he says.

Not that his writing is a completely solo project; a lot of his ideas for The Closer come from his wife. Together with their one- and three-year-olds, the couple spends a good amount of time traveling back and forth from their home in Andersonville to Hyde Park, where his wife grew up and where they are both active in creating an engaging synagogue life for other young families at Rodfei Zedek. It has become pretty common practice that right around the Oak Street curve on Lake Shore Drive, Ruby will ask his wife if she has any ideas for the column, and by the time they get home 15 minutes later they’ve come up with a few.

“The problem is when my boss doesn’t think any of the ideas are funny. Then I have to back them up by saying that other people on staff liked them, so he doesn’t think I’m just some dumb kid shooting my mouth off – which I pretty much am,” Ruby says.



"The Lonely Critic," Ruby's bubble-gum pop ode to "the life"

There’s evidence to suggest that Ruby may be selling himself short, though. A few years ago, when rising star chef Grant Achatz first came to Chicago, he worked at Trio, a restaurant in Evantson. As a year-end bonus of sorts, Ruby got to take his wife to Trio and spend as much money as he wanted; Chicago Magazine would pick up the tab, no writing assignment required, no strings attached.

It was during this mind-blowing five-and-a-half-hour meal that Ruby learned he had finally made it as a writer. Sitting a few tables away, an older couple was quoting something Ruby had written in Chicago Magazine, but saying it as though it was their original thought.

Though his wife was incredulous that her husband wasn’t going to call them out on their source, Ruby opted to remain anonymous. “It was a real ego boost,” he recalls. “I was the youngest guy in the restaurant by far, and this snobby guy is over there quoting me. All I ever wanted to do was have people read my writing; it was a real moment of arrival for me.”

Not only did he want to bask in the glory of the moment a few years ago at Trio, but Ruby also believes that anonymity is paramount in his profession – even in this age of online social networking. With all of his friends on Facebook, he created a fake profile, and furiously polices friends’ photo albums to make sure he remains untagged in pictures.

So far, it has paid off. There is only one meal during which he knew the restaurant knew who he was, and he cringes as he remembers how awkward the experience was. “They were so nervous… this guy poured salad dressing in my wine or something, and he looked like he was about to shoot himself.”

Though he has learned a lot about food over the years – he has even written two books, about drinking and pizza – Ruby’s overall opinion of the topic hasn’t changed much. Sure, he has opinions about how his wife’s challah compares to his aunt’s (very favorably), and how one should eat a latke (neither applesauce nor sour cream; a latke is supposed to taste like a latke!), but in the end, it’s not his passion for the edible that inspires him in his daily work. It’s all about the writing.

While his own culinary background may be less than epicurean, Ruby is in good company among Jewish food writers – for example, Alan Richman from GQ, Jeffrey Steingarten from Vogue, Gael Greene, formerly of New York Magazine and Oy!’s own Stacey Ballis. With a nod to prevailing cultural stereotypes, Ruby jokes, “there’s that Jewish thing that we love to eat and argue,” and food writing is just that: eating and voicing an opinion about it.

It’s the arguing, or at least the chance to write an argument in his own voice, that Ruby really loves, even after all these years. “If I was writing about hockey, or anything else, I’d put the same oomph into it,” he says, “I almost feel guilty.”

Ah yes, the third essential trait of Judaism: guilt.

The Living Jewishly stories in Oy! are always some of our favorites--but writing these true tales of Jewish life from all angles can be tricky business. You want to be fair to the people you write about, be sure your point of view is understood and make your story cohesive and interesting to read.

There have been some big stories over the last few years about major authors who have falsified memoirs--including James Frey and Margaret Seltzer to name a couple. This week, Angel At the Fence author, Herman Rosenblat, is making headlines for falsifying a story about meeting his wife while he was in a concentration camp and then finding her by chance years later.

What do you think about the Holocaust survivor's false claims?

Karen, learning that giving up the Christmas tree doesn’t mean giving up on family traditions

Even though by the age of 13 I had stopped believing in Jesus, I still went all-out every year to celebrate Christmas. I searched endlessly for the perfect tree, decorated my condo until it looked like a red and green bomb had exploded, and baked for days. I conveniently ignored the guilty feeling that I was going to hell for dispensing the holiday’s religious significance and instead focusing solely on the commercial aspects.

When, at the age of 28, I finally converted to Judaism after more than a decade of procrastination, I channeled my inner-Martha from Christmas to Chanukah. In the window, out went the tree, in the menorah. Egg nog was replaced with latkes (I figured equally fattening), and the green and red tacky Christmas decorations were exchanged for blue and silver tacky decorations. I even went as far as buying blue Chanukah hand towels for the bathroom. I was a woman on a mission.

I thought only of the fringe-benefits of the exchange such as the valuable closet space in my tiny condo I gained once all my Christmas decorations were given away. As for my husband, he was relieved that he would never again go through the drama of setting up a Christmas tree. I can still recall the terror on his face the first time he saw me with a saw in my hand, swearing like a drunk frat boy as I madly hacked away the Christmas tree trunk in a wretched attempt to get it to fit into its stand.

I told people that ‘giving up Christmas’ was no big deal, and I even bought that myself, until I called my mother to make arrangements to come home for the holiday.  Instead of responding to my query with her usual detailed account of the tactical maneuvers it would take required to bring my dispersed family together on Christmas Day, my mother was surprised I was coming home. She had, in short, written me off for Christmas.

I was floored. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t come home this year?” I asked, part wounded, and part cross.

The response: silence. I could hear my father snoring on the other end of the phone in the background.
Finally, sounding thoroughly confused, she replied, “You’re, well, Jewish now. I thought you didn’t celebrate it anymore.”

Oh, yeah.

I realized at that moment that while I had focused on the superficial changes of the holiday season, I hadn’t thought about or discussed with my family how my religious choice would play out in family gatherings revolving around Christian traditions. I assumed nothing would change about the holiday except that it wouldn’t be in my home. My family assumed that it meant more Christmas ham for them.

Their assumption came from a good place. While they may have been disappointed that I would not be at the gathering, they had completely accepted my religious choice and weren’t about to make me take part of the Christian celebration of the birth of the Messiah. My mother, who wears various Christmas-themed sweaters from Thanksgiving through New Year’s, even sent me my first Chanukah menorah and 8 presents, one for each night, that year.

And I wondered if they might be right. Was I supposed to stop celebrating Christmas with my family? I couldn’t imagine not being there for the holiday, especially because living in different cities across the country, Christmas is the only time of year when my entire family gets together. It’s when we catch up on one another’s lives and laugh about the past. On the Christmas tree and throughout the house are the decorations we made as kids, evoking fond childhood memories. And, best of all, on Christmas morning I get to watch the sheer delight spread across my two young nieces’ faces as they open their gifts, as I vicariously relive my own childhood through them. I could not fathom no longer being a part of these precious family moments.



Karen's niece, enjoying Christmas with the Flayharts

I talked about it with my Rabbi and my Jewish husband, and ultimately concluded that what was most important was being with my family. Christmas wasn’t off-limits, in fact, it was healthier for me and my family dynamic that I continue to participate in their lives. Eating a Christmas meal or buying Christmas presents for my family doesn’t make me “less Jewish.” It makes me a member of the Flayhart family.

So, that Christmas and all the ones after, I travel to see my family, my arms loaded with Christmas presents and cookies. My husband looks forward to the annual opportunity to gorge himself on holiday sweets and play with my nieces. We give my family Christmas presents under the tree, and in exchange they give us presents wrapped in Chanukah paper. One year, during the annual family exchange, “Santa” – played by my uncle – gave us a Jewish cooking book. Ironically, each year Christmas brings me the best present of all: the love my family has for me and not just acceptance but support of my religious choice.

And, when Chanukah falls over Christmas, my family kindles the Menorah lights with us, and we play the Dreidel game with my nieces. What I’ve found is that each time my family participates in my newfound religion – whether it’s my wedding or Chanukah celebrations – it brings them closer to understanding not only Judaism, but who I am.

Looking back, I now realize that the reason I bought into the consumerism of the holidays stemmed from me being able to control the superficial aspects of a significant life change as I had not yet addressed the deeper ones. Now secure in my Jewish identity, I look forward to spending the holidays with my family each year, and I don’t feel any need to use my dreidel-decorated towels. And, more importantly, I’m no longer over-compensating for lacking a belief in the spiritual meaning of my holiday. My mother tells me that’s the best present I could have given her. This year, I vowed to find her a Chanukah sweater to wear.

Arielle, bringing beauty to the world through art

Have you ever gazed at a painting by Chicago Jewish 20-something artist Arielle Sandler? Before you answer that, do you watch the TV shows “Eli Stone” and/or “Brothers & Sisters?” Maybe you caught Will Smith’s and Charlize Theron’s summer blockbuster “Hancock?” Well if the answer is yes to any those questions, then you have seen Sandler’s paintings, which have been featured on both of those shows and in the Will Smith flick. Sandler, who grew up in Cincinnati, but now resides in Chicago, is an abstract landscape oil painter, who explores bright color and surface in her work, applying paint liberally to the canvas, up to an inch thick like “icing on a cake.” Last year, she launched a series of original oil paintings entitled “100 Paintings in 100 Days” and plans to launch the second “100 Paintings in 100 Days,” in 2009. Subscribe to the series at  www.100paintings100days.com and visit www.ArielleSandlerStudio.com to view her other work.

So whether you’re a painting aficionado or a lover of vegetarian Indian food, Motown, or the show “Brothers & Sisters,” Arielle Sandler is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I always wanted to be an artist.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love the challenge of working with colors until they converse with one another.  I love creating beauty in what sometimes seems like an increasingly ugly world.  I love hearing from people around the globe who describe being moved by my work.  How lucky I am…

3. What are you reading?
Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience  by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and  The Atlantic .

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Uru-Swati on Devon has the best vegetarian Indian food.  So good!

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A health care system that works and is affordable for all.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Flying would be much more fun, but being invisible would allow for a truer understanding of people.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
“You Can’t Hurry Love” by The Supremes.  It has been a favorite since I was about 6 years old.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
Friday night dinner with friends and family.

Stacey, green with Christmas envy

“Gather around my friends, you are in a sacred place, you are among those you can trust, and your secrets are safe here. No one will judge you. No one will point fingers. And no one will tell your grandparents.”

This is always how I imagine that a support group for Jews with Christmas Envy might start, in a library conference room or a community center basement, with large pots of bitter coffee and platters of slightly stale and lopsided gingerbread men.

Judaism is built on a foundation of questioning, even challenging, the doctrines of our faith. Think of the wonderful debates that rage over the Talmud, as vociferous and passionate now as hundreds of years ago. You can pick your topic of choice, go to the books and find some support, and launch your attack on any aspect of this rich history.

As long as you don’t bring up the C-word. No…the OTHER C-word.

Of all the things we keep hidden from each other as a group—the secret bacon-cheeseburgers scarffed down on the way to Shabbat dinner at the Kosher home of your in-laws, checking e-mail on the Blackberry in the bathroom during High Holy Day services, faking deep religiosity at work with a Gentile boss for a free two-day Rosh Hashanah pass that gets used for a long weekend in Vegas…you know who you are—but nothing holds us in quiet desperation year after year like Christmas Envy.

Some of my favorite holiday tales are rooted in this hush-hush pathology. The Jewish family friend whose four-year-old son insists on waiting in line to sit on Santa’s lap, where he confesses that he doesn’t need Santa to bring him any presents, but he sure would like some decorations. And, the girlfriend who, the December after marrying her Gentile husband, called to gloat that she was decorating her first Christmas tree.  When I asked if the two of them were having fun, she shrieked almost maniacally. “I sent him out with his friends for the day! This tree is all mine! When we have kids it can be a family thing, but I’ve waited my whole life for this tree and I’M DOING IT ALL BY MYSELF! I designed it, I bought all the decorations, and it is going to be F***ING PERFECT! Are you JEALOUS?”

Yes. Yes I was.

As a kid I didn’t suffer so much. Chanukah was a festival of presents, I always thought eight days were so much cooler than one, and I liked that no matter where in the world we might have traveled for the winter break, we usually managed to find a movie theater and a Chinese restaurant for the traditional Jewish December 25th ritual. My cousin Sue Sussman wrote a great children’s book called There’s No Such Thing as a Chanukah Bush, Sandy Goldstein , a sort of Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret for the grammar school Christmas Envy set. It’s a warm, funny read that helped put things in perspective. I loved all the ABC twirling-rainbow-colored SPECIALS, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, crackling Heat Miser and the fluffy Abominable Snowman, and I thought it was hysterical that Herbie wanted to be a dentist instead of an elf. Scrooged with Bill Murray still makes me laugh hard enough to shoot diet coke through my nose.

But as I got older, the holiday got tougher.

I moved, after college, into the Logan Square neighborhood, where I reside still. Four blocks from the notorious Christmas House. A house that goes so over-the-top on decorations that it blocks up traffic on the Boulevard for a month, and the license plates of gawkers range from Wisconsin to Indiana to Michigan-- once I even saw Florida. Animatronic figurines spin in lit plexiglass boxes on the lawn, Santa and the Reindeers on the roof, flags of a hundred nations, every surface shining with lights that I think you can probably see from space. I can certainly see the incandescent structure from my front window.

The front window in the circular turret part of my Victorian living room that freaking cries out for a huge nine-foot blue spruce with tiny white twinkle lights and glittering ornaments and some shiksa angel in tulle on the top and…

Sorry. I digress.

Now, I can be a Christmas cynic as much as the next person. I frankly detest the imposition of holiday music that is foisted upon me in every public location between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Four years of Christmas concerts in my high school band, including having to make the horse neigh at the end of Sleigh Ride through my trumpet, pretty much cured me of Christmas music, despite the fact that most of the best songs are both written and performed by members of the Tribe. (Exception made for Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, which I love beyond all reason.) But this goes mostly for pre-recorded Christmas music in retail locations. I love the sound of red-cheeked strangers singing on my doorstep on a winter’s night, and the gathered-round-the-piano songs at holiday parties. I hate the commercialism that is attached to the holiday, buying and buying, all about the presents, and the commercials that start right after Halloween and seem anathema to the true spirit of giving.

But sweet fancy Moses, I do love the food.

My friend Doug has a killer holiday party every year, and while the Turkey Tonnato is delish, the meatballs succulent, and the spicy sesame noodles haunt my dreams…you’ll invariably find me parked next to the enormous brown sugar ham, engaged in semi-conscious conversation while surreptitiously sneaking bits into my mouth for two or three hours. If it weren’t so unladylike, I’d probably pilfer the bone into my purse at the end of the night to gnaw on the way home.

Platters of Christmas cookies, sparkling with sanding sugar, decorated with royal icing, like gorgeous edible jewels. Gingerbread houses, elaborate with candy decor, heady with spice. I can’t really get behind egg nog, truth be told, but mulled wine or spiced cider or Christmas punch, yes please! Plus the actual Christmas meal, effectively a redux Thanksgiving, well, if you don’t know how I would feel about that, please check  Oh So Very Thankful  for a full report.

I don’t know what a figgy pudding is, but I’d like to try one. With a side of wassail. Preferably after I’ve spent an afternoon watching A Christmas Story while stringing popcorn. I’ve never tasted a roasted goose, but considering what goose fat can do to a simple French fry, I’m very willing to give it a shot. I’m not interested in fruitcake, but then again, neither are most of my Gentile friends. Mincemeat pie intrigues me, especially since no one makes it with suet anymore, as does the concept of plum pudding with hard sauce. Buche de Noel cakes, roasted chestnuts, candy canes, oranges studded with cloves (although I don’t think you’re supposed to eat these), ham, ham and more ham!

Sigh.

It isn’t ALL about the food…although that is a powerful draw. It is also about the idea of the spirit of Christmas. The Gift of the Magi. The child who puts his allowance money into the Salvation Army bucket. It’s a Wonderful Life. I’ve felt the internal glow when a colleague you don’t know well drops a card or a cookie on your desk. When I was working as a teacher, I went to the home of a student for a traditional Puerto Rican Christmas Eve, which moved me deeply, dozens of family members taking turns at the dinner table, with kids decorating the tree and playing with new toys, not to mention the best arroz con pollo and rice and beans I’ve ever tasted. I’ve watched my goddaughter open her presents and nearly pass out with joy, giving hugs and kisses of true gratitude to the gathered crowd. I’ve stood in an Ecuadorian church and heard a choir singing Simon and Garfunkel in Spanish. I’ve been amongst the hoards on the plaza at the Vatican on Christmas morning and heard Pope John Paul say, among other things, Shalom. I’ve had a traditional New Zealand Christmas Barbecue (Best. Lamb chops. Ever.), seen palm trees covered in lights and stars, and not one but two Costa Rican Christmases with the most beautiful and gracious and kibitzing nation of people you could hope to meet. I was twenty-nine before I saw the transcendent Goodman Theatre production of A Christmas Carol for the first time, but I haven’t missed a production since, and every year it delights me and makes me cry and makes me smile and makes me REALLY GREEN WITH ENVY.

Not in a wanting-to-convert kind of way…I adore being Jewish. It isn’t a self-loathing thing, I think our holidays and traditions generally are really cool and meaningful. And I do not in any way mean to imply that somehow Jews are without a tradition of giving or generosity of spirit, in fact, I think we as a people excel in these very arenas year-round as part and parcel of who we are and how we live in the world. Just in a wistful boy-it-would-be-fun sort of way, to decorate and bake and go caroling and hang a stocking with neither a sense of irony nor guilt, nor outsider status, and nary an ancestor spinning in a grave.

I have always known that these things will never happen for me unless my next romantic partner is a Gentile, in which case I hope he will teach me Christmas, (and that I will let him help decorate the tree!) and that I will be able to bring him into our traditions as well.

In the meantime, while it doesn’t have quite the dramatic oomph of a tree, I do love the way the flickering lights of my menorah bounce off the windows in the circular turret part of my Victorian living room, even if I can’t fling tinsel on it. And I love that my friends who aren’t Jewish include me in the celebrations of their holiday. Even if I do eat most of the ham.

At this time of the year, with Christmas all around us, and Chanukah looming, and the New Year right behind, I wish you all meaningful celebrations with the traditions of your choice.

And if you decide there IS such a thing as a Chanukah bush, I won’t tell your grandparents. As long as you invite me to help decorate.

Merry Everything, and Happy Always.

See you in 2009.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey

www.staceyballis.com

NOSH of the week: The season of holiday giving is upon us, and for foodies, no gift is better than gourmet goodies. Check out the delectables at the new website www.foodsacrossamerica.com Really yummy stuff. I can attest to quality because I wrote the copy for the website and, to do a bang up job, had to taste most of the offerings! So if you bop around and read the history of the different brands and serving suggestions, it is hopefully entertaining. Just don’t tell me if there is a typo.

NOSH food read of the week:  Tender at the Bone  by Ruth Reichl

Linda, celebrating 25 years as a working girl

This month is the 25th anniversary of the day I started my first real job. That first day of work was blistering cold, like today. I was wearing a suit with a skirt—no pants for women allowed, then—and I remember making my way across the bridge over the steaming Chicago River, trying to suck it up and act like a tough commuter.

I spent a lot of that first winter trying to suck it up and act tough.

The job market that year was as horrendous as it is now, so here I was, with two degrees, earning jack shit. My last year of college cost more than my first annual salary. My student loans and rent ate up most of my take-home pay, and I was broke. I can still see myself shopping for groceries with my mother, finally explaining to her that I wasn’t buying the economy-size jug of laundry detergent because I just didn’t have enough cash. I had two fancy degrees, and was too poor to buy an extra-large bottle of Tide.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, if someone had just taken me aside and said: “Okay; here’s the deal. The first year or two out of school completely suck, but then it will be okay. It’s not because this is The Real World. It’s because you’re 24.”

Looking back, it all makes sense. I had a fabulous education, but worked an entry-level job. I had developed an appreciation for the finer things in life, but had no money to pursue them. I had made intense friendships in college, but those friends were scattered across the globe. Plus, I had a bad body wave and no boyfriend.

And then, shit just happened to me. I overslept on a work day. My storage locker was broken into, my car was burglarized, and my wallet was snatched out of my purse. It never happened again, but I swear, all this shit happened when I was 24. It was like falling into a cosmic black hole. It took a year or two, but it was an incredible relief to find that this was not my permanent reality.

However, what was permanent was the realization that exchanging academic quarters for fiscal quarters had not been a good trade. Let’s be real: It is a lot more satisfying to end a term with a few days off and a couple of beers than to mark it with a news release about your company’s earnings. Plus, I’d learned to schedule my classes to avoid, you know, morning, so it pissed me off to have office hours at all, let alone office hours that began before the crack of noon. Again, this was not a good trade. Admittedly, when I wrote something, now people paid me instead of giving me a report card—a much better deal—but no one ever suggested that I take time off for an Independent Study or a trip overseas to explore one of my brilliant ideas.

I think I was afraid of having an examined life during this winter of my discontent, so I sleep-walked through my life during that first year or two after college. I found an apartment I loved, managed my own finances, and learned how to deal with patronizing male co-workers (who did a whole lot of things that would be utterly illegal today) without noticing that I had landed well on my feet. I received three promotions in three years without realizing I was a success. I discovered what I truly wanted—and didn’t want—in a life partner without considering how long that took most people. I got involved in causes I believed in without understanding that I had found my life’s work. And I had a body that I would die to have today, but was ashamed of at the time.

So now I wish I could go back and enjoy those accomplishments as they happened—and enjoy the kick ass bod I didn’t appreciate back then.  Basically, I want a do-over. Which is probably the same thing I’ll say about how I’m living today in another 25 years.

Alyssa, whipping up a batch of kugel, and memories

My friend Naomi is intimidated by chicken soup. Another friend recently tackled a fear of Thanksgiving turkey. For most of my adult life, I have resisted noodle kugel.

These dishes have been cooked for countless holidays by our mothers and grandmothers. The familiar aromas wafting through our kitchens inspire feelings of comfort and familiarity, and evoke memories of less complicated times. These dishes hold such esteem in our minds – and our bellies – that we angst over the prospect of cooking them ourselves.

My grandma’s noodle kugel is famous, at least in our family.

When we were little, my grandparents lived in the condo unit farthest from the elevator. After fighting over who got to push the inside button and who the outside button (the inside was far more coveted, as there were many buttons from which to choose), my three brothers and I would burst from the elevator and race to #110, where Grandma and Poppy would be waiting for us in the hall with open arms.

We would proceed immediately to the kitchen, where two noodle kugels always waited for us. The Corn Flakes topping was golden and crispy, coating the layers of sweet, creamy noodles and pineapple morsels. The four of us, with help from Poppy, easily devoured an entire kugel, which is why the second batch was so important. Grandma never let us go home empty-handed.



 Alyssa and her brothers, kugel connoisseurs

The kugel appeared at most major holidays (except for Passover of course); it was requested each time we slept at Grandma’s, and every time we came home from college for a visit.

She never shared the recipe with anyone, saying she wouldn’t be able to write down the exact measurements because everything was “in her head.” Fortunately for me, she was able to figure it all out just in time for my wedding shower, where she presented me with a handwritten recipe card.

Still, it took me two years to attempt the kugel.

My grandma is not doing a lot of cooking anymore, and I recently found myself with the perfect opportunity to whip up a batch, which quickly turned into a trip down memory lane. I was inspired by our Dinner Club, a group of friends that gets together monthly over a theme dinner. I decided to host a Jewish meal, and dug through my recipe books for my grandma’s card. As I gathered my ingredients, my fear that the dish would be a sure failure began to dwindle away. Following the pretty cursive on the recipe card, I could almost hear my grandma telling me I should probably think twice about a third helping, and my poppy telling her to let me eat as much as I want.

It turned out almost perfect. My timing was a bit off and the kugel should have sat for a while after coming out of the oven, but I served it immediately. The result, while delicious, was a bit wetter than Grandma’s.

Of course, the true test will come when I gather the nerve to serve the kugel to my family, the only critics able to discern the differences between mine and the original. And even if my version doesn’t quite meet their standards, Grandma will be thrilled to know that we sat around my table eating her kugel together, just like we did in her kitchen.

DJ Avi Sic

Avigaeil Furhman is a jack of all trades. She is passionate about music and can be found most nights DJing at many Chicago hotspots, including Town Hall Pub, The Continental and Swig. But she also makes a living writing for online magazine BuzzNews and is interested in becoming an artist, dancer or actress one day soon. She loves all kinds of animals and once planned on a career in oceanography. Originally from Connecticut, Avi attended the Savannah College of Art and Design before moving to Chicago in 2005. Chicago has been a perfect fit for Avi who wanted the feel of a big city with a thriving theatre and music culture, but smaller than New York and closer to home than Los Angeles. You can see her spin at Liar’s Club every Wednesday night.

So, if you enjoy listening to music, but can’t carry a tune or crave Chinese food, Avi Furhman is A Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
Pretty much everything! I always liked performing, music, and the visual arts, but I was also into the ocean, animals and dinosaurs. It’s funny because today that’s totally what I’m still into! When I was really little I wanted to be an oceanographer, then it turned into astronaut. Then I started playing “band” with my friends. Sometimes I would be playing an instrument (which I eventually took on for real), other times I would sing (but quickly realized I have no talent in that arena even after massive singing lessons), sometimes I would play back up dancer hence my later in life stint with dancing. Then I wanted to be an actress which became an on and off passion (and my college major). I wanted to be a writer (my minor), a slam poet, and a rapper…all of which I did for a while during college and post. From middle school until college I wanted to be an artist and took lessons. In college I double minored in art history as well. I pretty much wanted to try everything. My mom is the greatest; [she] let me dabble around in a lot of different areas to allow me to figure myself out.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
It’s the best!  I basically [get to] live and breathe music. I DJ at [local] clubs and bars, it is the most fulfilling thing in the world to open people up to new styles of music or to play their favorite track in a whole new light. I spend all my time researching, digging, working on sets, remixing, bettering my skills, and challenging myself to become the best I can be at what I do. I learn something new every time I put the needle on the record or turn on my computer to research an old blues track. I am constantly on my toes. It’s a timeless art form and I am proud to be able to help preserve, share and create it.

3. What are you reading?
Wax Poetics – it’s a hip-hop, funk, jazz & soul quarterly.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
My kitchen has become a favorite lately, but I’m [also] a sucker for a fancy chain restaurants [such as] P.F. Chang’s.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A machine that cures all diseases and aliments.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Fly. Invisibility seems a bit creepy.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Single Ladies by Beyonce.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
Sneak into the high holy days un-ticketed. What a rush!

Amy Williams, Niki Wilk, and Kareem Dixon in Michael Sherman's "The Letter" 

There was an extended pause in the conversation when I asked my husband, Joe, if he would like to join me at a dance performance last Saturday night. I have dragged my poor jock husband to countless musicals and plays, but never to a dance show. I could see the images swirling through his brain – scantily clad men slithering on the floor in a bizarre interpretive dance – and braced myself for the “no.”

It never came. Always the trooper (no pun intended), Joe tagged along to Innervation Dance Cooperative’s 2008 fall concert, Nothing in Common, at The Galaxie in Logan Square.

Much to Joe’s – and my – delight, Innervation’s roots are based in both dance and theater, so even we dance novices were able to follow and appreciate the stories told in each of the 10 dances. The company was founded in 1998 by Michael Sherman as Irreverence Dance + Theater, and the focus of the contemporary dance company was on storytelling. The group has evolved into a cooperative led by nine volunteers with diverse backgrounds including ballet, dance team and modern.

“That is one of the coolest parts about Innervation,” says Rachel Zanders, one of the nine members of the co-op. “It makes for a varied aesthetic. It’s cohesive, but still interesting.”



Rachel Zanders quit her day job and brings dance to the people

Rachel is a classically trained ballerina, donning her first pair of ballet slippers at age 2 and later spending as much time outside of school as she could at the studio.  While she majored in Comparative Literature at Haverford College, she minored in dance and kept it a central focus in her life. After college, she left a job at a publishing company because it didn’t allow her the time for dance.

Now working as a freelance writer/editor/proofreader (“whatever people will hire me to do with words,” she says), Rachel dedicates a large amount of her time to Innervation. Leading up to the performance we saw, the company rehearsed three nights a week practicing 10 pieces, unconnected by any common theme, hence the title of the show.



Julie Haller, Diana Stewart, Sandy Donahue, Mandy Work, and Shayna Bjerke in Elisa Carlson's "Club"

Much of the music and dancing evoked emotional responses in Joe and me, particularly numbers like The Letter, choreographed by Michael Sherman, a story of wartime loss through the eyes of a military wife, and Dark Dreams, choreographed by Shayna Bjerke, which was like watching a live version of our childhood nightmares. Pieces like Crooked, choreographed by Mandy Work, and over (and over), choreographed by Amy Williams, were joyous and just plain fun to watch.

The company’s latest project is re-mounting a dance version of the classic play Everyman, which they have set to the music of Led Zeppelin. Their goal is to bring the production to Chicago Public Schools along with  a study guide that teachers can use to introduce the show to students and prepare them for what they’re going to see.

“I really like being able to associate the arts with things students are learning in school, and make [dance] something that applies to them as opposed to something that people just do for entertainment,” says Rachel. “It’s something that actually pertains to them in their lives, and to all of us in our lives. We want to be sure to give them the opportunity to be exposed to the arts.”

With Nothing in Common behind them, the company is busy planning its next production, which they hope will be staged in a “real” theater (The Galaxie is a very cold studio space – I wore gloves the whole time, and Joe complained of losing all sensation in his butt). While they make their plans, I’m busy trying to come up with a new art form that I can introduce to Joe. He took so well to the musicals and the dancing that I have high hopes that we can enjoy an opera together some day.

Marla’s Mandel Bread is run by mother-and-daughter team Marla Templer and Rachael Halstuk

For as long as Rachael Halstuk can remember, her mother’s mandel bread has been a constant in her life.

From age four, Halstuk acted as a young sous-chef to her mother, Marla Templer, helping her to prepare the mandel bread, a dessert often called the Jewish biscotti. And when Halstuk was away at Jewish summer camp, Templer would ship her daughter a bag of the goodies. “It would be 90 degrees and I would make the mandel bread last for four weeks hidden under my bed. I guess that’s kind of disgusting,” jokes Halstuk.

Two decades later, in 2007, the mother and now-grown daughter were trying to occupy themselves in the kitchen on a wintery Chicago day so Halstuk whipped up a batch of her mom’s mandel bread for her co-workers. Back at work, her colleagues “went crazy” for the treats, which got Templer and Halstuk to thinking.

For so long, loved ones had urged Templer, a nurse by trade, to sell her mandel bread, a centerpiece of every Jewish holiday meal at Templer’s home. “Over the years, family and friends have stopped by my house and the first thing they do is look in the kitchen for my mandel bread stash,” says Templer, of Highland Park. “It’s rare that I’m invited to a dinner party and not asked to bring my ‘famous recipe.’”

With her instincts in the kitchen and Halstuk’s head for business and entrepreneurship –skills she built by working in finance for five years, the mother-daughter team launched Marla’s Mandel Bread in April.



Marla’s Mandel Bread

Their mandel bread resembles Italian biscotti, but isn’t identical. Unlike its Italian counterpart which is made with no butter or oil, mandel bread is prepared with oil to give it a much lighter and crunchier texture and is coated with cinnamon sugar. “When the vast majority of people think of mandel bread, they think of a hard, more biscotti-like cookie that their grandparents made that was good, but not that great,” says Halstuk, who lives in Chicago where their business is based. “Ours has more of a contemporary twist to it and is more of a gourmet dessert as opposed to only something to dip in coffee and tea.”



Chocolate chip mandel bread

Baking is part of their family’s roots, tracing back to Templer’s grandfather, a baker who immigrated to America from Poland at the turn of the 20th century. He settled in Canton, Ohio where, ironically, he wanted to open a bagel shop. People laughed at his business idea because Canton had been a predominantly non-Jewish town and bagels were still considered a solely Jewish food. “He never opened his bagel shop, but in a way we are carrying on the family [baking] legacy with mandel bread,” said Halstuk.

Mandel bread, too, has its own long history. According to Wikipedia, mandel bread (also spelled as mandelbrodt, mandelbrot among other spellings) has Eastern European Jewish origins. Mandel bread, a twice-baked cake usually prepared in a loaf, translates literally to mean almond bread, but can be made with other ingredients as well.

Besides the mandel bread itself, another sweet byproduct of the business is the mother-daughter bonding time. “I’m 27 and my mother is old enough to be my mom,” says Halstuk. “Without the business, we wouldn’t get to spend as much time together. Yesterday afternoon, we got together for four hours and baked. It is work, but it never feels like work.”



Apricot and cranberry mandel bread

In addition to appealing to Jewish palates, Templer and Halstuk hope their mandel bread reaches a broader population of taste buds as well. “When I was a little girl, bagels were strictly a Jewish food and now they are everywhere,” says Templer. “When I was a little girl, I never heard of sushi and now it’s everywhere. Things become a part of the American culture because the culture is made up of so many different culture and we’re such a melting pot. I really want everyone to love the mandel bread.”

Marla’s Mandel Bread is available in the Chicago area at Sunset Foods, Goddess & Grocer, and Chicago’s Downtown Farmstand. The mandel bread is also available at  www.marlasmandels.com . If you order online by Dec. 31, 2008, you can receive 15% off your order. Enter the code “OY!CHICAGO” in the “Additional Information About Your Order” box at the website checkout to receive the discount. The discount will not appear at the checkout, but will be included in a receipt sent to you. 

Jason and Caroline out and about in the city

Many of you have attended an Oy!Chicago gathering in the past and have gotten to know some of your fellow Oy!sters. Jason Chess and Caroline Friduss met and hit it off at the get together at Matilda last June, and the couple has since been inseparable. Caroline is a Registered Dietitian who works with the elderly as a nutritionist at Friendship Village (a retirement community) in Schaumburg. Jason, a recent West Bloomfield, Michigan transplant, is a Business Banking Officer and Assistant Vice President for National City Bank. The two have discovered that they share a lot in common. It doesn’t seem like much of a coincidence that they live just a few short blocks apart in the Gold Coast, but it’s the second time they are close neighbors. Caroline grew up in the town next door (Bloomfield Hills) to Jason and lived there until she was eight and her family moved to Highland Park.

So, if you too are looking to meet new people, enjoy eating out or hate Chicago traffic, Caroline and Jason are Jews You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
Jason: When I was really little I wanted to be a baseball player. Later, I wanted to be a CEO.
Caroline: I wanted to be a chef on the food network.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
Jason: Making a difference for my small business clients and networking to meet new people everyday.
Caroline: I love working within the healthcare field, knowing that I am helping people everyday.

3. What are you reading?
Jason: Crain’s Chicago Business and the RedEye.
Caroline:  Loving Frank  by Nancy Horan. It is the next book on my book club list.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Jason: It’s always hard to think of something on the spot because we always like to try something new. So we keep a list of restaurants we want to try. We just had sushi at Mirai, Indian at Veerasway, brunch at Bongo Room, and lunch at Steve’s Deli. And the next on our list is Le Lan.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
Jason: The ability to make it 75 and sunny every day.
Caroline: The ability to get to work with no traffic.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or ability to be invisible?
Jason: Definitely invisible. I can always fly in an airplane.
Caroline: Probably fly. So I can fly to work.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Jason: Hungry Eyes from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.
Caroline: Anything Kenny Chesney! I’m a country fan.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
Jason: My involvement at the Standard Club and being a member of the YLD board.
Caroline: Oy!Chicago, because I met Jason at the first Oy! event.

A wedding of mixed religious faiths can be hard work.

A few years ago, I took the greatest risk of my life. I packed up my apartment in D.C., said goodbye to my friends and a great job, and moved to Cincinnati to be with my boyfriend, a Rabbinical student at HUC. The gamble paid off: two weeks after my move, he popped the question. After having dated for a little over five years, the engagement came as less than a surprise and more as a relief to our friends and family. (The relief on the side of my friends who were afraid they would have to carry out their threats and wind up in jail.)

To illustrate: my father’s response to our announcement was “Well, it’s about time.”  Describing my father as having an odd sense of humor is an understatement. Then, just to be clear what we were dealing with, he continued with: “I’m not going up in the chair, and I’m not wearing one of those hats.” Oy vey.

Let me explain: my husband is Jewish and, while dating my husband, I converted to Judaism. While my entire family has been overwhelmingly supportive of my religious choice, I knew that with my Jewish wedding, I had a challenge on my hands that went beyond finding a dress that didn’t make me look like the stay-puff marshmallow woman and didn’t cost more than my car. I needed to find a way to incorporate my Christian family into my Jewish wedding ceremony while respecting their personal boundaries and religious views.

Easier said than done. So many married couples I know can tell their own wedding woes of dealing with family jealousies that arise during wedding planning. Which side has more guests?  Who is paying for said guests? Just how much should this wedding cost? Which home town does the wedding take place in? Now add: Which side gets to understand and participate in the wedding ceremony?

But after all the intense negotiations that resolved issues about venue, budget, and details, we were at the point of no return. And I’m glad: our wedding afforded the opportunity for each side to learn about our respective religious backgrounds. It was the best thing that we ever could have done to merge our families together.

Now, while we are blessed with open minded family members, we had some work cut out for us with families very different from each other. (Philly, meet Texas. Yo y’all.)  And I’m pretty sure that my husband and I are the only Jewish people my aunts, uncles and cousins know because, quite simply, they live in areas where white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants are the overwhelming majority. No one in my family, parents included, had ever been to a Jewish wedding. The Hora was going to rock their worlds.

My husband’s side wondered just how my family would react to my choosing the Jewish faith. Would my family resent my husband’s side? Would they be comfortable during the ceremony and reception? Would they feel included? Would my family pat their heads looking for horns? (That wasn’t meant to be funny, honestly my grandparents probably would have.)  So, my husband and I looked at our wedding as an opportunity to build bridges between our cultural and religious differences. Thanks to the open-mindedness of our family, and the open bar, the day couldn’t have gone any better. Here’s what we did:

First, each of us spoke to our parents about what we wanted. We made it perfectly clear that what was incorporated into our wedding ceremony was not about what “we had to do” but what we wanted to do. This was especially important to my parents, to know that their daughter was having the wedding that she wanted, not just doing what the groom’s side wanted. Believe me, this is the key. And it worked on all the decisions we made about the wedding details, so that each side knew this is what WE wanted, not what his-or my-parents dictated.

Second, we were up-front with the Rabbis that my family was to be included as fully as my husband’s family. This may have limited the Rabbis that agreed to perform our wedding, but this was a deal-breaker.

Third, we held a class for our non-Jewish friends and family on Jewish wedding rituals. Our friend, also an HUC student, taught the ‘class’ Saturday afternoon (our ceremony was late Saturday night.)  The best part was that plenty of people from my husband’s side showed up either because they never fully knew about all the traditions and wanted to learn, or just wanted to keep my side company. THAT is Texas hospitality.

Fourth, we explained everything in our wedding program. Ok, so the program turned out more of a wedding manual than a program, but who cares?  There is nothing worse than sitting through a ceremony when you don’t know what is going on. Besides, it gave our guests something to read during the 20 minutes it took for my Father-in-law to recover from fainting.

Fifth, and most importantly, we respected the boundaries of our family members. I did not pressure my Dad, who is Baptist and does not drink nor dance, to participate in the Hora or wear a Kippot. And I kept him away from the Groom’s Tish. And my Mother-in-law respected my wishes not to have a Mikveh before the wedding.

In short, we threw away the manual and created our own way of doing things. The result was a fantastic wedding weekend where both sides really bonded. A few minds may even have been changed. Or, at the very least, my family now knows that yes, Rabbis can marry.



Celebration was in order after the wedding ceremony went off without a hitch.

That’s not to say that there weren’t a couple of moments where I wanted to crawl under a chair and die of embarrassment from the well-meaning but off-putting comments of some of my family members. Ok, so actually it was just one family member: my uncle’s fourth wife who can best be described as “country”.

Somewhere in the middle of her fourth or fifth beer she screeched out quite loudly on the dance floor more than once “I want to be Jewish!”  Yes, she meant it as a compliment. However, I suspect her envy stemmed less from the meaning of the Jewish wedding rituals and more from the fun we were having (our band rocked.)  Frankly, she was into the idea that dancing and drinking - of which she was a BIG fan- were not sins for which she’d burn in hell. (I should note my husband and I are Reform Jews. Had we been at an Orthodox wedding she may not have been as comfortable.)  While I applaud her enthusiasm for Jewish people, at some point I think I’m going to have a discussion with her about what it really means to be Jewish. I might need a couple of beers in me for that.

Looking back, I realize that I underestimated my and my husband’s families. Where I feared there would be jealousy or rejection, I found willingness to learn and understand, not to tolerate but embrace Judaism as their daughter’s religion. I could not be more proud of their “Christian values” of love and acceptance that they displayed during my Jewish wedding. I wish the rest of the world was so. Now, can someone please help me explain the bris ceremony to my Dad?  I think this time, HE might be the one who faints!

This story originally appeared in David’s Voice,  www.davidsvoice.com .

Potatoes for Change or Cookies First? Find out who will take the prize tonight at the University of Chicago

Hamantash fans scoff at the latke: “It’s just potatoes,” they say. And latke aficionados can’t find much to be excited about in the hamantash.

The debate about the favorite Jewish holiday food has raged for so long that it spawned an institutional response: the annual Latke-Hamantash Debate at the University of Chicago. The 62-year-old tradition has spread to campuses nationwide for a humorous academic discussion about the relative merits of the two iconic Jewish foods.

University of Chicago professors Gary Tubb (South Asian languages and civilizations), Thomas Ginsburg (law), Roy Weiss (medicine) and Dean of the Rockefeller Chapel Elizabeth Davenport will duke it out in this year’s verbal food fight tonight at 7:30 p.m. at Mandel Hall (1131 E. 57th St.) on the University of Chicago campus. Ted Cohen, professor of Near Eastern languages and civilizations, will moderate. The latke has won more times than the hamantash, although in recent times the pendulum has swung back and forth—the latke side won last year’s debate, while the hamantash got the vote in 2006.

As the debate continues between cooks everywhere, Oy!Chicago asked the community to chime in with their opinions. And at least in this completely unscientific sample, the latke took the lead.

Sarah Levy, owner of Sarah’s Pastries and Candies: “I have always loved latkes, which are a family favorite. It’s sort of a habit. My grandmother has a really good recipe.”

Rabbi Michael Balinsky, executive vice president of JUF’s Chicago Board of Rabbis: “I prefer the latke. I make terrific latkes and I don’t know how to make hamantash—I have never tried, I’m not into baking. I do not fry my latkes, instead, I bake them in the oven. The secret to great potato latkes is to grate in some carrot, and I also make great sweet potato latkes. I don’t work with recipes, I don’t measure. I just put things together, and it’s never the same twice.”

Josie A.G. Shapiro, chief development officer at Temple Sholom and an avid cook: “I’m a latke girl! They’re more flexible, you can grate different things in—potatoes, beets, or zucchini,The hamantashen have different fillings, but they’re all on the same note, all sweet.”

Miriam Brosseau, singer-songwriter and community mensch extraordinaire:  “Coming from Wisconsin, where all food is fried, I’m kind of partial to the latke.  Now, if it were served on a stick, that’s something Wisconsinites could really go for.  Someday...”

Adam Davis, director of KFAR Jewish Arts Center: “It’s a difficult decision. On the one hand, I salivate at the thought of a savory potato and onion delicacy. I also am tantalized by the sweet triangular treat. I suggest a third way—the sufganiot. I’m a pluralist when it comes to the Jewish people and our food.”

Rabbi Rebecca Lillian, author, musician and spiritual leader: “How could I possibly compare latkes and hamantashen? Latkes are savory, and when fried to just the perfect crispy texture without burning, with a bit of sweet-tart applesauce on top, they are perfect on a cold winter night. I couldn’t imagine Chanukah without latkes. Hamantashen are sweet, although when filled with the right mohn (poppyseed) filling, not too sweet. They are perfect for a Purim meal when, together with more sweets and a bit of fermented beverage, one gets silly and giddy and goes a bit crazy with laughter. I couldn’t imagine Purim without hamantashen. But if you are really forcing me to choose, I'd pick the holiday of Purim—with latkes!”

Daniel Libenson, the director of the Newberger Hillel Center at the University of Chicago, has pledged to keep neutral on the issue. Libenson and the Newberger Hillel have betrayed a fondness for politics in the advertisements for the debate. In the ads, Obama’s signature “O” logo is repurposed for the latke, and “this is Obama’s year,” Libenson said.

Post-debate, hungry audience members can devour the contestants – three kinds of hamantash and two kinds of latke for $5.

Aviva, doing it all

After graduating from the University of Michigan with a theater degree, Aviva Gibbs landed a development job at the Goodman Theater. As a hobby, she volunteered for political campaigns; then, one afternoon, she got a tip from a friend about a job opening as Chief of Staff for an Illinois State Representative. She wrote an email to Rep. John Fritchey, convincing him that her theater degree qualified her to be his Chief of Staff.  After three years in Rep. Fritchey’s office, Aviva made the jump to the corporate world, becoming a Senior Account Executive at Resolute Consulting, a public affairs and communications firm.

But she didn’t leave her theater degree too far behind.  Aviva can be spotted performing at bars all over the city, singing jazz and bluegrass music.  With what’s left of her free time, Aviva is pursuing a Master’s Degree in Public Policy from DePaul University.

So, if you too have charted your own course in life, wish there was a mute button for unruly shoppers, or enjoy Sunday brunch at The Bagel, Aviva Gibbs is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
For a while, I wanted to be a lawyer. Or rather, my grandparents wanted me to be a lawyer. Then I wanted to be a performer. And then a politician. But I repeat myself.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I work with smart people and learn something about something from every project; no two days are the same which keeps me on my toes. My job also allows me to take a giant step back from a usually-complex situation and see several points of view, which is a unique and disarming place to stand.

3. What are you reading?
I keep restarting  The World is Flat , but get distracted by about nine newspapers and 17 blogs every day. I read it when it came out a few years ago, and think he issued a “3.0” update which I bet is pretty darn good.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
There are too many favorites to choose from. I like the popular, rated restaurants – the Fronteras, the Petterino’s – but I always fall for the neighborhood spots. Feast for brunch, Sola for shortribs, Nandu for empanadas, Club Lucky for dinner, and the S&G Restaurant for the best Sunday morning skillets in town. And that was just last weekend.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
This is going to sound harsh, but a remote that could mute screaming children would be amazing. Don’t get me wrong, I actually like kids, but sometimes a girl just wants to go to Target in peace, you know? Come to think of it, let’s make it work on adults too.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Invisibility, so I could actually be that fly on the wall.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
It might run the gamut, but I’ll stand behind everything in my iPod! Then again, I'm Jewish, and we feel guilty about most things, right?

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago – in other words, how do you Jew?
It’s a toss up between The Bagel and Wrigley Field. Nana never wrote down her recipe for brisket (or many things, for that matter) so until I can figure it out, I’ll go to the Bagel. As for Wrigley, let’s just say it’s taught me a lot more about faith than my seven years of Hebrew School.

T.J.’s super serious headshot

Whoever said you can’t have your cake and eat it too has not been in the shoes of T.J. Shanoff. He is passionate about his work, has never had a day job, owns a home in the city he loves, travels the world and has a flexible schedule. Jealous?

So what does he do? Apparently, it’s complicated, says T.J.: “If after I tell you, if you could please call my mother and let her know…I’m serious, would you?”

So this story goes out to T.J.’s mom.

In no particular order, T.J. is…

A Director

T.J. is the co-creator and director of Jewsical! The Musical , a sketch comedy show about Jewish life and culture for all ages, with songs of course (see A Musician, below). “One of the biggest projects I’m proud of is Jewsical. We just did a run in Michigan – we’ve been touring the country for three years."

Revamping and touring Jewsical is the next big thing on T.J.’s plate. After the last tour – “mostly in crappy rental cars with cassette decks” – he learned that the show can be easily customized to the venue and event. “One of the fun things about Jewish society is that it never stagnates- there’s always something going on. We want to make the show elastic.”

T.J. directs many other shows for Second City. He just returned from a Second City gig on a Norwegian cruise line where he directed a new show. Though he was only on the ship for eight days, the show will run for four months. He’s set to direct another cruise ship show in the Bahamas this January.

A Corporate Talk Show Host

Second City often sends T.J. on MC or hosting missions for corporate events all across the country. For this type of show, a 45-60 minute classic Second City show gets intertwined with scenes written specifically for that company. He’ll host meetings or talk shows for big events where he’ll interview the CFO or the Company’s President about serious topics and make them entertaining. Just back from Richmond, VA, he will soon visit Arizona and Florida during our coldest months.

A Chicagoan

On why he lives in Chicago: “It’s a simple answer. I grew up here, in the Gold Coast – though I hate calling it that – right by the Latin school. Since I’ve been a kid I loved the city. Almost every close friend I grew up with lives here still. If a job came up I would go, but I’m not looking to move. I’m very content here. And I’m a die hard Cubs fan.”

A Musician

Though he doesn’t gig in the typical sense, T.J. incorporates his piano skills as a musical director, song writer and on-stage performer in many Second City shows.



T.J. directing Jewsical! The Musical on the road in West Palm Beach

A Writer

T.J. and another Second City writer work with theaters in other cities to write shows that blend classic Second City scenes with custom scenes about that city.

The two writers do research in the city for three days. They tour the city with tour guides who take them to all the touristy places that the locals never go to. This is not helpful in writing a funny show for the people of the town, so instead of paying attention to the locations, they listen to what the tour guides are saying – what they like to do, where they like to go, how they feel about the political spectrum. That insight is what gives them good material for the show. A custom show at the Alliance Theater in Atlanta just closed and got great reviews. “What’s really funny is at least one review said, ‘we were so offended that these two Chicago writers were coming in to write the show and then we saw it and we loved it.’”

A Camp Lover

T.J. is co-creator of the website mycampfriends.com discussed in depth here. One friend from camp now writes for the Colbert Report and talks about how camp makes you a stud, even if you’re not one back home. Eventually he sees this site as “the ultimate destination for all things camp.”

An Entertainer

Above all, T.J. calls himself an entertainer. (Anyone else hearing a Scott Joplin piece right now?) “One month I’m a musical director, one month I’m performing, in a good month I’m doing everything.”

The second project he’s most proud of is “The Roof Is On Fiddler,” a parody that he co-wrote and directed. The show uses the original script of Fiddler on the Roof, but with songs from the 80’s instead. Like a Virgin or the Who’s the Boss Theme might surprise you after a tearful scene, leaving you crying tears of laughter by the end of the show. It was a hit at Improv Olympic in 2001, playing every Thursday at midnight.

The projects he is most proud of are Jewishly themed, not surprising considering his strong affiliation to cultural Judaism. “I’m by no means the most religious of Jews, but I’m very culturally Jewish and tremendously respectful and proud of my Judaism. It’s not a coincidence that the two things I’m most proud of are Jewsical and Fiddler.”

What future entertainment does T.J. have in store for us? “I have a couple of projects coming up – one hopefully on television with the Second City. That’s all I can say for now.”

This is only a snapshot of what T.J. does. T.J.’s mom, take note. He has also been a radio personality, a lyricist, and a talk show co-host. That said, his self-assigned professional title of Entertainer seems to encompass it all.

Irving Flashman, asshole no more

They may not have taught you this in Hebrew School, but the number forty is the gematria , the mystical numerological value, for the Hebrew word for “asshole.”  I know this because I’m a former asshole myself.

She moved to my town for the start of junior year. And so began my serial transgression of our sacred commandments.

When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not wrong him. But what if a particular, rather humorless stranger just tumbles in from the boonies with a giant stick wedged up her scrawny behind? And honestly, does it really count as “wronging” said stranger, in the true, biblical sense, if you merely slap her books out of her hands and kick them across the floor at the bottom of a crowded stairwell? During her first week in a new school?

You shall not be a gossipmonger among the people. What the hell does this mean to a high school asshole—part baseball jock, part AP geek, but complete jerkoff? That I was supposed to get a fucking DNA sample before trafficking the rumor (starting the rumor, perpetuating the rumor, let’s not split hairs) that she banged the stud linebacker in the school library?

You shall not stand idly by while your brother’s blood is shed. Of course not. But if I stood idled while my friends wiped boogers on her pizza that night at Buffo’s, it wasn’t out of indifference to her gustatory suffering (at least not total indifference); it was only because I was paralyzed by laughter. Oh get over it, I don’t even think she kept kosher.

Luckily for me, you don’t need a conscience to earn a diploma; and by the time we graduated, I had broken easily one-third of the commandments over her clenched ass.

The former things shall not be remembered. Or maybe they shall. I saw her only once after that, seven or eight years later, in downtown Highland Park, a few blocks from the scene of the crime, the scene of my crime. We made small talk. Very small talk. I remembered. And she remembered. How could we not?

And the wolf shall dwell—or at least kibitz—with the lamb. Then one day, maybe five years after that encounter, she sent me an email. I paraphrase:  “I’m bored  today. I googled you. Are you still an asshole?” Stalker? Post-Traumatic Jewish Stockholm Syndrome? Neither, as it turns out. Just someone wanting an answer. I responded by saying I was sorry. No excuse, no explanation. Just an apology. And maybe a taunt or two, for old-time’s sake, but mostly an apology.

And while we would later debate (Did I mention that we’re best friends now? That we debate now? Mainly idiotic things like the utility of such words as “ass face” and “douche bag,” but that we debate now?) the difference between apologizing and asking for forgiveness, the truth is that she had given me a pass a long time ago. A pass I didn’t earn or deserve.

Is there a lesson in all this? I think there is:  Don’t be an asshole. People can change. Cherish your friendships.

Dana Rhodes, her Sweet 16 . . . eh, not so sweet  

I coerced my dear friend " Irving " into writing a story with me about how he used to be my bully. I told him he had to get off his lawyerly ass and write something creative about himself being an asshole a long, long time ago. That's exactly what I told him.

Yes, you have five kids to schlep to Sunday school. Five kids, a goddamn migraine, impatient clients and a mouse on the loose in your twice-flooded, newly finished basement. No, you haven't written anything since high school other than legal briefs, checks to your plumber and a shitload of email to me. Yes, this will require you to expose to the universe the fact that, once upon a time, you were not very nice. (Okay, a complete dick, prick and otherwise schmuck.) Yes, you may use a penname, if you insist, wuss.

At first he said, Whatever . But when I pulled out the big fat guilt card, the one that read: This will be your payback for 23 years ago when you were my bully , he surrendered. And I quote Irving Flashman, at 8:46 PM on 9/18/08: I will not let you down .

That alone should have signaled that this was about more than Oy!Chicago. But no, I - in my bionic stoicism, in my blinding blindness, in my astounding short-sightedness -- just thought this would be our funny little story with all of our favorite swear words. He was her bully and now he's her friend, how sweet.

Let's face it, folks. High school sucks, even for the most well adjusted among us. Try transferring to  Highland Park High School  your junior year with an Indiana twang, a chip on your shoulder, and your own private asshole seated one desk to your right in Mr. Larson's fifth period creative writing class.

We both liked to write. We both had a serious amount of respect for  Holden Caulfield , we both hated trigonometry, and both our dads were doctors. But the similarities seemed to end there.

How ironic that he was the son of a cardiologist and I was the daughter of a pulmonologist. He had no heart. I held my breath.

His asshole friends jumped on his bully bandwagon and the next 15 months passed in a blur of spit. Spit, insults, threats, lies, a Ford Bronco coming straight at me in the school parking lot. You get the ugly picture.

Or maybe you don't. My Oy! editors say you don't - they want me to delve deeper into my painful memories for the sake of art. Fine. Join me for a little walk through the halls of HPHS in March of 1986. There's Irving, blocking my locker with a desk as he's done every day for the past two months. When he comments on my chicken legs, don't answer. When he asks if I really had sex with J.S. in the school library, just stand there and stare at him.  Eventually the bell will ring and Irving will leave, we'll grab my books for U.S. History and on our way to class, his dumbass friend will punch me in the arm hard enough to throw me off balance. Don't blink.

One hour later, if you retrieve the crumpled up piece of paper that I've tossed in the trash can of room 212, U.S. History, it is probably says something like, Corners, hunched shoulders, take up less space. Tremble, voice tapers, keep a stone face. But this isn't a fucking poetry blog.

As my colleague and fellow Oy!ster Aaron Cohen so eloquently recounted, if someone slaps you in the face with a rotting fish, you may come to hate  fish . But let's expand the list of options. Maybe you'll hate the guy swinging the fish. Or maybe you'll hate yourself.  If someone slaps you in the face with a rotting fish, maybe you'll smear the fish guts back in his face or maybe you'll run in the opposite direction, in search of a place where marine life does not exist.

For a longer time than I care to admit, I wondered what was wrong with me . And for a longer time than I care to admit, I chose neither fight nor flight. I chose silence.

It was a silence I didn't break for 13 years. Until one random day I had some downtime, and I Googled Irving without thinking, and I emailed him without thinking, and he wrote right back.

>>>"Rhodes, Dana" 12/15/00 04:17 PM >>>

So Irving Flashman. All I can say by way of introduction is things get slow here on Friday afternoons. You start playing around on the Internet. You plug in the name of some schmuck from high school, for no apparent reason. And you find yourself writing an email to an associate at The Law Offices of Blankstein, Blankberg, and Blank, fully aware that there is no client who can be billed for the time it is going to take to read this. . .

For the record, Mr. Blankstein, Mr. Blankberg and Mr. Blank, on December 15, 2000, I wasn't swinging rotten fish nor was I fishing for an apology. But 34 minutes later, I got one.

>>>"Flashman,  Irving" 12/15/00 04:51 PM >>>

Of course I remember you. Before tapping in one more word, in case I haven't already done it, I apologize for the torment my degenerate friends and I subjected you to what seems like so long ago. The touching use of the word schmuck in your e-mail suggests to me that perhaps I failed to do this before. In any event, for future reference, I prefer the term asshole. . .

Can an asshole grow up to be a mensch? Can a misguided mensch behave like an asshole?  It seems the answer might be yes, because from that day on, we were friends. And like any friends, we share our silly observations, our dreams and disappointments, and our crazy antics which reveal how similar we actually are. After all, in times of quiet desperation, don't we all make into a toilet that which otherwise appears to be a Pringles can, the Governor's lawn, the back stairwell of the Hyatt Regency?

The profane and the sacred. The profound and pathetic. The prophetic and prolific. That's us.

In a noble but unsuccessful last ditch effort to get out of writing Asshole with me, Irving asked what our story had to do with Living Jewishly and Oy!Chicago .  It's not a D'var fucking Torah, I told him. Enough with the scripture, I told him. We are just two Jewish Chicagoans with a story to tell. We are two imperfect, potty-mouthed 39-year olds who - besides swearing - leave a lot unsaid. We are two writer wannabes and devoted parents with unanswered questions swimming around in our heads as we type away on our computers at ungodly hours, hoping our own kids do better than we did. Hoping they learn to look past people's differences. Hoping they learn to forgive - themselves and others.

After 15 months of torment, 13 years of silence, 986 variations of the word asshole, and 8 years of friendship, Dana coerced Irving into writing a story with her. He didn't let her down. See  Asshole, Part 2 .

The ‘cheeky’ founders, Jessica Zweig and Erica Bethe Levin

For the CheekyChicago.com founders, it was food at first sight.

Erica Bethe Levin and Jessica Zweig had become fast friends after bonding over their shared love for food. In March, Zweig had dined at a new Chicago restaurant the night before and was gabbing to her friend and co-worker, Levin, all about it the next day on the job at the gym where they worked. In addition to their love for food, they shared other interests too. “We just clicked over being girls and going out in Chicago, trying new restaurants, and having fun,” says Zweig, a lifelong Chicagoan, originally from Highland Park.

Their mutual passion for Chicago hotspots propelled them to spend six hours that same March evening on Zweig’s couch—with a stack of post-it notes and a bottle of bubbly—and flesh out ideas for a new website, which would later morph into CheekyChicago.com.

“We came up with the idea of Cheeky—to be perfectly honest—because we both love to eat,” says Levin. “The idea evolved from restaurant reviews into something much bigger and all encompassing. Cheeky is a one-stop shop for information on restaurants, nightlife, health, fitness, sex, relationships, theater, music, you name it.”

Launched in October, CheekyChicago.com is an online magazine for, by, and about the women of Chicago. The founders—both Jewish 20-something Chicagoans with backgrounds in journalism, theater and public relations—hope the site becomes the ultimate guide for Chicago cosmopolitan women and a way to share the frenetic and “fabulous” city of Chicago.

Levin and Zweig write all the reviews on restaurants, nightlife, and theater themselves. They strive not to slam people in mean-spirited critiques, but focus on the best of Chicago, both newcomer restaurants and entertainment and hidden gems that have been around for years. The founders feel they have something to say because they are regular Chicago women, not professional reviewers. “We’re real people,” says Levin, a Chicago transplant from West Palm Beach, who originally moved here to attend Northwestern University. “We’re not trained in the culinary arts and we didn’t go to school for theater criticism. We’re just two girls who love this city and love to eat and see good shows and drink good wine and we want other women to experience that too.”

While there are many other hip Chicago sites, according to the founders, there’s really no other site reaching out exclusively to this niche demographic in Chicago. “We saw a big void for something like,” says Zweig. “There’s Metromix and Yelp and Daily Candy, and other city-centric resources that sort of touch on female issues and sort of don’t. Some sites are business-focused focused or fashion-focused. Yet, there’s nothing that really covers the gamut for women to enjoy and take something from.”

The homepage—a calendar of Chicago happenings—changes every week, while rotating columnists write features and advice columns on topics including politics, celebrities, wine, relationships, health, and sex. The site also features an open forum that poses daily questions for readers to respond to such as “Where is one city you would like to go live in for three months, purely for fun, and why?” CheekyChicago also offers promotions and discounts for women who navigate the site. Outside of the virtual world, CheekyChicago plans to throw real-world gatherings a couple of times a month, intimate events such as a chef tasting dinner and bigger parties including fashion shows and an upcoming holiday party.

In addition to their love of food and Chicago, Levin and Zweig shared the bond of their Jewish identity right off the bat. They felt an immediate connection, they say, when they met because they were both Jewish. “There was an instant familiarity between us and a sense of “home” because of our mutual heritage,” said Zweig. “I felt like I had known Erica my whole life, because she reminded me of my whole life.”

So what’s so “cheeky” about CheekyChicago? The Levin and Zweig say they’re big fans of the word and it isn’t used often enough. They define “cheeky” on their site as “definitely bold; impudent and saucy.” Who is the cheeky chick? According to the founders, she is “fun, fabulous and fierce…chic, intelligent, and in-the-know…but most of all, she is the kind of woman who embraces, admires, respects, smiles at, and opens her heart to other fabulous chicks.”

In that spirit, the founders hope the site will act not only as a resource for Chicago women, but also will foster positive relationships between women in their real lives. “Women, in general, need to be more open and nicer to each other,” says Zweig. “It’s a weird epidemic in our younger culture that sometimes we can be closed off, judgmental, and threatened. We’re trying to say that—by being “cheeky”—you can be fabulous, intelligent, and have a great job, but, most importantly, it’s about who you are on the inside and being better to each other. That’s what being cheeky is all about.”

CheekyChicago will throw a holiday party at Hub 51 in Chicago from 6-9 p.m. on Wednesday, Dec. 17. The cost to attend is $45, which will cover food, drinks, and goodies. For details, visit  www.cheekychicago.com .

Oren, excited about the Big Event 

When Lincoln Park dweller Oren Dekalo isn’t at work as the 2009 Vice President of the YLD campaign—which isn’t often—the Glencoe native can be found working as a diamond wholesaler.

So, if you don’t have time to read actual books, look forward to lunches on the 6th floor of the JUF or like shiny things, Oren Dekalo is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be an archaeologist like Indiana Jones, or a professional soccer player (my Bar Mitzvah was a couple weeks after the '94 World Cup, and that was the theme for my party).

2. What do you love about what you do today?
Hearing people's comments when they find out what I do.

3. What are you reading?
A lot of YLD emails about "The Big Event" featuring Matisyahu on December 13.  Books ... not so much right now.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
The JUF Conference Room - the food is half the fun of being on the Board!

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A machine that would produce money--specifically for the YLD Campaign--and a shield to protect Israel from its hostile neighbors.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Definitely fly so that I could go to Israel for free - and avoid Chicago traffic, of course.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
None since I don't have one.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
I enjoy planning, and attending, YLD events.  Right now, the YLD Board's focus is on making "The Big Event" featuring Matisyahu a tremendous success - both in terms of the overall quality and the number of people who will be there to experience it.

Sarah is here. Here Sarah is.

My apartment is littered with post-its and print-outs bearing the words Hineni: Here I am and an X. Because, bizarre as it may seem, I sometimes forget it.

But of course I’m here. I can feel my couch underneath my butt. I can see the diamond-shaped painting my maternal grandmother did decades ago hanging on my wall. I can smell the cumin and lamb in the air from tonight’s dinner.

But over the last few years I have come to realize more than ever that hineni means more than existing in physical space and going through the motions of life. Hineni means making a conscious effort to be present and emotionally invested in each moment. It’s something I especially struggled with in college, when I didn’t know what I wanted to study or do with my life, or who I wanted to become. Back then, I decided not to really give a damn, and just float through classes and days and years until someone or something got in my way.

Having been in the real world for a few years now, I’ve established a pretty comfortable routine for myself. I wake up in a neighborhood filled with vibrant young people and small businesses, tasty food and good draft beers, easy access to the lake, and a burgeoning puppy and baby population.

I take the red line to work at an organization whose mission resonates with me, working with caring, intelligent, witty people for whom I have great respect and from whom I can learn a lot.

At the end of the day I get back on my beloved CTA train and head home. Sometimes I’ll meet a friend for dinner or drinks, or go to the gym, or take a walk up Clark Street to people watch and see what new books are in the window at Women and Children First.

It’s not that I’m unhappy with this routine; to be perfectly frank, it works very well for me. But I’m running on autopilot, once again just gliding through the days and weeks, tackling roadblocks as they come along but ultimately staying the course.

Not long after graduating from school I realized that with real world freedoms come real world responsibilities. Even though I was theoretically free to live however I wanted, and to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to do it, in practice, life became much more regimented and bland. I felt confined by my responsibilities, to the point where I didn’t feel like I really had choices, just tasks that had to be completed to get through the day. I felt like I was losing control over my life, even while it was all still very neat and tidy and functional.

So I decided to start keeping pseudo-kosher. I already wasn’t eating pork, so I decided to stop mixing milk and meat as well (I will never be able to give up shellfish). I admit that I made the decision in part to annoy my then-roommates. But I also hoped it would help me feel more present, decisive and in control of my own life. By scrutinizing a decision as mundane as whether to put Swiss cheese on my turkey sandwich or not, I was taking an active role in shaping my daily life. I was making active choices – however inconsequential to the world around me – rather than settling for whatever was most convenient or conventional.

It didn’t stick. It sort of worked for a while, but let’s cut to the chase: Swissburgers are damn tasty. I decided I needed a Plan B.

During high school I was an active B’nai B’rith Girl, part of the B’nai B’rith Youth Organization (BBYO). That was where I first learned the Hebrew word hineni, It’s how we responded when attendance was being taken at meetings.

At first I was confused by this response. I knew that ani was the Hebrew word for “I,” and that po meant “here,” so I didn’t understand why the reply wouldn’t be ani po or po ani (my Hebrew vocabulary is passable, but my grammar is ra m’od -- very bad).

I’m still friends with a few of my sister B’nai B’rith Girls, as we called each other, and one of them in particular has always truly been like a big sister to me. After one of our lengthy long distance conversations a little over a year ago I became nostalgic and pulled out some old photos, including some from that first meeting when I heard a roomful of girls proclaiming hineni. I decided to re-examine its meaning.

It turns out that in the Torah, hineni is used when someone is being called upon directly by G-d. Its meaning goes beyond the physical act of being and denotes a spiritual, intellectual, and corporal presence all at once.

G-d’s not doing a whole lot of talking to me these days, and I’m not necessarily picking up my phone and calling Him/Her/It. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be living each day and responding to myself and the world around me with the same fervor and dedication that Abraham or Moses showed when G-d called upon them back in the day.

I needed a way to remind myself of this fact day in and day out.

So Plan B: Get a tattoo of the word hineni. A permanent reminder that I am here. That it is time to stop passively floating through days. Time to actively choose my own path, rather than following the one of greatest comfort and least resistance. Time to take ownership over every minute, hour, and day of my life.

As the weeks went by and I hadn’t decided on the right Hebrew font or researched which tattoo artist or parlor to go to, I began to question why I couldn’t just take the plunge already. And then it dawned on me: the tattoo was just another crutch.

Irony of ironies, by permanently inking “here I am” on my body, I realized I would actually be giving myself an excuse not to be here. I could float along “present” in each moment because of course I’m here; I have the proof tattooed on my foot and I need to do no more! But it would lose all meaning. I would once again be taking the most convenient (albeit the most painful) path. I could forget to actually be here because I could use the tattoo to simply appear as though I was present in every moment. And I couldn’t let that happen.

So the hineni tattoo was scrapped.

Since giving up this idea, I haven’t massively overhauled my life. My daily routine still includes the same neighborhood, the same commute, and the same job, and yet nothing really feels the same. Because while there will no doubt be occasional days when I shift into autopilot, I am starting to embrace the fact that I am the lead actor in my own life; in each misstep, triumph, and everything in between. I am finally giving myself the chance to believe: hineni.

Stacey, thankful for Thanksgiving

It’s probably going to get me some flack to admit that my favorite holiday isn’t a Jewish holiday, but a secular one. Don’t get me wrong, I love many of our ages-old holy days, and look forward to both the sense of connectedness they bring as well as the comfort of traditional foods and the company of friends and family. Rosh Hashanah, Passover…both solidly in my top five holiday-wise. I love a latke, I’m moved by matzo balls, get blissed out over brisket. I even heart a hamentashen. But none of the celebrations mandated by the Torah come close to inspiring the passion I have for Thanksgiving.

Deep down, I sort of think of Thanksgiving as a Jewish holiday.  After all, it celebrates autumn, much like Sukkot. It is centered around a very prescribed traditional meal, sort of like Passover. It is a time to reflect on personal blessings, which is as much a part of Yom Kippur as the atoning part. It brings together family and friends, like Rosh Hashanah. And lets be frank, any holiday that devotes itself to total food indulgence has got to be something we Jews can get solidly behind, if not out and out co-opting it for ourselves!

As a home cook, Thanksgiving is my grail, my marathon--the ability to pull it off is a source of pride, and no moments of my year are as purely pleasurable as those brief moments of silence around the table when everyone tucks into their plates, followed by gradual exclamations of rapturous delight.  And while there is always something a little bit new or different every year, the basics stay the same, and I’ve gotten a lot of it down to a science. But science doesn’t mean clenched perfectionism. With all due respect to Martha Stewart, you don’t need twenty four matching turkey shaped bowls for the soup to taste good, you don’t have to weave your own napkins, grow your own cranberries, or even make your own pie crust (or pie for that matter) for this day to be wonderful. Good food, prepared with love, and served with a smile is all anyone needs for the holiday to be sublime…to each at the level of their own ability.

For those of you who are thinking of tackling the big day, I’ve got some tips to help you out. The most important thing about Thanksgiving is right there in the name, be thankful. If you burn the turkey, make PB&J and laugh it off. And if at all possible, set yourself up for success with some simple advice and simpler recipes.

First, know thyself. Do you regularly make your own puff pastry, serve towering soufflés, and finish your sauces with homemade demi-glace? Then find any challenging menu that inspires you and have at it. But if you burn the toast four days out of ten, this isn’t the time to try anything complicated. Keep things simple, and don’t be afraid to get help with the hard stuff or fiddly bits. People love to participate, so let guests bring something to take some of the pressure off you. If you’ve never made pie crust, buy a good quality frozen crust. Look at local prepared foods sections of grocery stores and see who is offering side dishes and do a tasting the week before. If Whole Foods is making a killer stuffing, there’s no shame in serving it.  Does gravy make you nervous?  Add five or six whole peeled shallots to the turkey roasting pan along with your bird, and simply blend them into the de-fatted pan juices to thicken it easily without all that tricky flour business.

Thanksgiving is also a great time to connect with Mom, Grandma, or your favorite Aunt…call and ask for advice and recipes, they’ll be flattered and you’ll be amazed how many great tips they can give you.

So, if you’re getting ready for the big day, here are Stacey’s Thanksgiving Commandments:

1. Thou shalt buy a fresh turkey from a butcher, and brine before roasting.
I know Butterball seems like a good idea, but they are so filled with preservatives and salt and other unnatural stuff, they don’t really taste like turkey.  Call two to three weeks before the holiday and have your local butcher order you a fresh turkey for pick up the day before Thanksgiving. Take it home and brine overnight using the brine recipe of your choice…mine is below. You’ll be delighted with the results.

2. Thou shalt discover how easy it is to make awesome cranberry sauce, and not have to serve the slice-able stuff from the can.
Cranberry sauce is not just the easiest part of the meal, it can be made up to a week in advance. You’ll never go back to the tinned stuff.

3. Thou shalt not be ashamed to make the green bean casserole with the Campbell’s Condensed Soup.
Sure, I’m a foodie/crazy person, so I make my cream of mushroom soup from scratch before assembling the ubiquitous casserole…but honestly, it’s a tradition for a reason, the original recipe is pretty comforting and delicious, and easy to make, so even if you consider yourself a major gourmet, pull out the processed food version and serve with a smile. Ditto sweet potatoes with marshmallows.

4. Thou shalt not overdo the appetizers.
You’re going to spend two days cooking for this meal. Let your guests be hungry when they get to the table. Keep your pre-dinner nibbles to small bowls of nuts or olives or pretzels or the like, think basic bar snacks…you just want your guests to have something to nosh on with their pre-dinner drinks, but if they fill up on hors d’oeuvres you’ll all be sad when you get to the table and can’t manage seconds.

5. Thou shalt not bother with salad.
I know it always seems like such a good idea to make a fresh green salad. But frankly, it takes up valuable space on a plate that should be devoted to fourteen different starches, and you’re just going to throw most of it away, since it will be all wilty and depressed by the time you go to put the leftovers away. No one will miss it.

6. Thou shalt not count calories, skimp on ingredients, measure portions, or whinge and pout about how bad the food is for you.
We are all very sensitive to healthy eating these days, and more than a few of us are dealing with the need to lose a couple pounds. THIS IS NOT THE DAY TO DO IT. Thanksgiving is, at its very core, a celebration of food and the memories that food invokes and the new memories created at the table. You do yourself, your host, and the day a disservice if you think of it as anything else, or deprive yourself of the sheer joy of this meal. If you’re the cook, don’t alter recipes with low fat/low salt/low taste versions of things. Don’t skip meals before, so that you aren’t blindly starving by the time you get to the buffet, and if you’re really concerned, fill your plate anyway you like, but don’t go back for seconds. Any nutritionist worth their salt will tell you that one meal cannot derail your overall progress, especially if you get back to your program the next day and maybe add a workout that week. And any counselor will tell you that the surest way to be cranky is to deprive yourself while all around you are celebrating. Give yourself a break…you’ll be amazed that if you give yourself permission to have everything you want, how easy it is not to overdo it.

7. Thou shalt not stuff your bird.
I can hear you crying about it now….you are used to the bird packed with stuffing, you dream about the really crispy good part in the front over the neck, why can’t we stuff our turkeys?  Here’s why….one, a stuffed bird is the best way to get food poisoning. If the stuffing doesn’t get up to at least 180 degrees internally, it can breed bacteria, not fun. Two, in order to get the stuffing to 180, you are going to overcook the crap out of the turkey itself, especially the breast meat. Three, all that moistness you love in the in-the-bird stuffing?  That is all the juices from the meat that are getting sucked out by the huge stuffing sponge, and you not only dry out your bird, you have many fewer juices with which to make gravy. Make your stuffing and bake in a separate dish, and if you really miss that dense moistness, melt a stick of butter in a cup of chicken stock and pour it over the stuffing ten minutes before taking it out of the oven.  And get over it.

8. Thou shalt not test more than one new recipe for this meal.
Thanksgiving is a wonderful meal to add to, but don’t do everything at once. I know that the cooking mags have all sorts of new-fangled versions of things, but they have to reinvent the holiday menu every year. Experimentation is good, but if you change the whole thing up at once, people are going to miss their old standby favorites. Pick one dish that you think is ready for a revamp, and throw in that curveball. If you love it, add it to the repertoire. But don’t do the chipotle rubbed turkey, sweet potato tofu bake, barley stuffing, green beans with fresh ricotta, and sherried fig cranberry coulis all in one meal. Someone will weep openly, and everyone will have to run out the next day and make a few traditional items to get them through to next year.

9. Thou shalt not be a Thanksgiving Dictator.
If people want to help in the kitchen, let them. And don’t criticize the quality of their small dice, or the way they wash the pots. Ditto assigning specific foods to guests who want to bring something…if someone offers to bring a dish, ask them what they love to make or what they crave most about Thanksgiving and let them bring that. Who cares if you have two kinds of sweet potatoes, or both cornbread and regular stuffing?   On Thanksgiving, more is more, and abundance rules. Besides, you have a three-day weekend that needs quality leftovers.

10. Thou shalt be thankful.
We are all very blessed. Take a few moments to think about all of the gifts you have in your life, the family and friends who surround you, all of the wonderful things you may take for granted in the hustle and bustle of your day to day.  Close your eyes, be joyful, and in all sincerity and humbleness thank the universe for your life.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey
www.staceyballis.com

NOSH of the week:

Here are some of my go-to turkey day recipes. Follow to the letter or use as a springboard for your own touches…

Brined Turkey

1 16 lb. turkey

Brine:
9 Q water
1 gallon apple cider
1 bottle Riesling or other fruity white wine
2 ½ c kosher salt
2 c brown sugar
8 bay leaves
2 ½ T coriander
1 ½ T juniper
2 T peppercorns
1 ½ T fennel seed
1 T mustard seed
3 onions-quartered
2 apples-quartered
1 bunch thyme

Boil 1 Q water with salt, sugar and all spices. Cool. Put in brining bag. Add rest of ingredients and turkey. Brine overnight. Remove turkey from brine, rinse and dry. Add an herb butter under the skin if you like. Put an onion and an apple in the cavity of the bird. Preheat oven to 500 degrees. In roasting pan, make rack of ribs of celery, carrots, sliced onion, 5-6 whole shallots, thyme. Put turkey breast side down, put in oven, and immediately reduce to 400 degrees. Cook 30 minutes. Reduce heat to 325, cook 90 minutes. Flip breast side up, cook to 155 internal temp, approximately another  30-40 minutes. Rest 30 minutes before carving.

Cranberry sauce

2 bags cranberries
1 ½ c port
1 c sugar
1 t salt
5 T orange juice
1 ½ t cornstarch
1 t ground mustard
1 t lemon juice
Zest of 1 orange
Pinch ground clove
Pinch fresh ginger
Zest of 1 lemon
½ c dried cherries-rehydrate in ¼ c port

Cook cranberries and port in a saucepan over med-high heat 10 minutes, until cranberries burst. Add sugar and salt. Whisk OJ, cornstarch, mustard, lemon juice in a bowl and add to berries. Stir to combine. Add rest of ingredients, cook 5-6 minutes more, cool.

Mashed potatoes

10 lb. Yukon Gold potatoes (peeled, cubed)
2 sticks butter, cubed
1 pt. whole milk (or half and half or cream, depending on how rich you like it)
1 pt. sour cream
1 bunch chives, chopped fine
S&P to taste

Boil potatoes till soft. Drain completely. Put potatoes through ricer, or just use hand mixer to mash. Add butter first, and then milk to just shy of your preferred texture. Once the potatoes are almost there, add in the sour cream and chives and season well.

Basic Stuffing

1 XL loaf country bread or French bread cubed and toasted till totally dry  (2 lbs.)
1 pkg soft rolls or hot dog buns torn coarsely
2 ½ sticks butter
1 ½ c chopped onion
1 ½ c chopped celery
Celery leaves from 2 heads, chopped
¼ c chopped flat leaf parsley
Dried sage, thyme, marjoram (1 T each)
S/P to taste
4 lg eggs, beaten
1 box chicken stock…add as necessary to moisten.

Sautee veggies and herbs in 1 ½ sticks butter. Toss with bread. Add stock slowly till moist but not overly soggy. Taste for seasoning. Stir in eggs and mix well. Put in deep foil pan. Drizzle with melted stick of butter and sprinkle of breadcrumbs.

400 degrees 25 minutes covered, 20 uncovered. If you want extra moistness, melt another 4-8 T butter in 1 c chicken stock and pour over top when you uncover the stuffing, then continue cooking.

Pickled carrots
(great pre-dinner nibble!  A bowl of these and a bowl of nuts are all you need.)

1 large bag baby carrots (2 1bs)
1 bottle apple cider vinegar
1 large jar honey
4 T mustard seed
1 bunch dill

Combine vinegar, honey and mustard seed in saucepan. Add carrots and cook over med-high heat till carrots are cooked but still crisp, 5-8 minutes. Store in pickling liquid in fridge. Before serving, drain liquid, add chopped fresh dill.

NOSH Food read of the week:  The Devil in the Kitchen by Marco Pierre White

Speakers Leslie Goldman, Lori Weinstein, Mary Jo Barrett and program facilitator Alyson Weinberg combine their brain power for girl power 

Cady: And they have this book, this burn book, where they write mean things about all the girls in our grade.
Janis: What does it say about me?
Cady: You're not in it.
Janis: Those bitches!
--Mean Girls

If you’ve ever seen the movie “Mean Girls” with Lindsay Lohan, you know it’s not easy being a teenage girl these days. On top of the social pressure to look a certain way, there’s the desire to hang out with the right crowd, find the right boyfriend and get good enough grades to get into the right college. And, between ages 9 and 16, girls start to mature both physically and emotionally--much earlier than their male counterparts. Now add in the pressure from the media, television shows like “Gossip Girl,” complete 24/7 access to what everyone is doing through Facebook and texting. Girls today have no choice but to grow up fast, and sometimes turn to self-destructive behaviors like disordered eating, bullying, alcohol abuse and self mutilation to help cope with the stress and anxiety of everyday life.

I know you’re probably thinking, ‘that never happened to me,’ or ‘my daughter would never do something like that,’ but Jewish girls are no exception. In fact, they sometimes face even more pressure from their peers, family and themselves to succeed and live up to often unrealistic expectations. And it’s not just a coincidence that “Mean Girls” takes place on the North Shore of Chicago…

Washington D.C.-based Jewish Women’s International (JWI) is tackling the problem head on by going right to the source—mothers, educators and social workers. In response to a recently completed survey of professionals who work directly with Jewish girls, JWI has launched Brain Power for Girl Power Think Tanks, an initiative that brings together Jewish women to learn about and engage in constructive brainstorming around the issues that affect Jewish girls. The first of these brainstorming sessions was held Oct. 29 at the Spertus Institute of Jewish Studies in Chicago.

“In the blink of an eye, there will be a new group of women standing in our shoes,” says Lori Weinstein, executive director, JWI. “Jewish girls need a path and we’re here to partner with you and clear it for them.”

The survey, “Jewish Girls and Their Behaviors,” which was designed by JWI in conjunction with Professions Research, Inc. of Washington, DC, polled 1,000 Jewish professionals on Jewish girls’ participation in behaviors such as anorexia, alcohol abuse and self-mutilation, or “cutting.” The survey revealed that the three most common destructive behaviors encountered in Jewish professionals’ work with Jewish girls are: disordered eating habits and patterns (48%), bullying (40%) and risky or precocious sexual behavior (38%). For girls ages 9 to 11, the most common behaviors included bullying (66%), disordered eating (35%), alcohol abuse (6%) and cutting (3%). For girls ages 12 to 15, disordered eating patterns and bullying were the most common (75%), followed risky sexual behavior (69%), cutting (58%) and alcohol abuse (48%). And of those surveyed, only 1 to 6 % said they felt parents were very aware of the problems facing their daughters.

“Jewish girls are coming of age in a time that is much more complicated than we did,” says Weinstein. “We want to create that metaphorical embrace among teenage girls, to make sure they have a safer passage along the bridge.”

How long is a girl a child? She is a child, and then one morning you wake up she's a woman, and a dozen different people of whom you recognize none.
--Louis L'Amour

Mary Jo Barret, a leading authority on trauma and violence and executive director and co-founder of the Center for Contextual Change, spoke to the group first, answering the question: Why do girls participate in these destructive behaviors?

Young girls, she said, view self-destructive behaviors as empowering, and as a friend during a time in their lives of naturally heightened activity and anxiety. Sometimes, she says, they know exactly why they are engaging in these dangerous behaviors, but don’t have a lot of motivation to stop. One girl explained that she cut herself because “When I see the blood, I know I’m not empty.” It’s something their parents cannot control, Barrett says, something that’s only theirs.

“These behaviors are the way that these girls try to and successfully empower themselves, give themselves value and control,” she says, and for Jewish girls who come from affluent homes, “it’s the convergence of a perfect storm.”

Today’s young girls have more of everything and constant access to information. They can create a Facebook profile that has nothing to do with who they really are, and are often losing their own true identities, she says.

“They live in a society that values this materialism and values being something you’re not,” Barrett says, “not even having the opportunity to build that self-esteem because too busy building a faux being.”

There are no rules in this house.
I'm not like a regular mom.
I'm a cool mom. Right, Regina?
--Mean Girls

Parenting styles have changed as well, and maybe not all for the better, Barrett says.

“We want to be our daughters’ friends and we’re ambivalent about limit setting,” she says. “The other thing we don’t teach our kids is how to cope with frustration.”

Also, Barrett says, because there is such an emphasis on competition, parents aren’t emphasizing altruism, or taking care of other people in the community.

The differences between boys and girls at this age can be explained by neuroscience. Before puberty, Barrett says, boys and girls have the same level of depression. After, girls double while boys remain the same. Also, girls go through puberty much earlier than boys, so their bodies mature much faster than their brains.

“Their bodies are literally ready for sex before their brains are,” she says.

Additionally, women store memories on the right side of the brain, the more emotional side, and so they tend to ruminate on things while men store memories on their left side, remembering facts, and coping through  problem solving. Sometimes, to stop the cycle of rumination and worry, girls turn to self-destructive behaviors to try to release those feelings.

What the daughter does, the mother did.
--Jewish Proverb

Following Barrett, Leslie Goldman, health writer and author of  Locker Room Diaries: The Naked Truth about Women, Body Image and Re-imagining the “Perfect” Body , spoke about her battle with an eating disorder during her time as a student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

Leaving Adlai E. Stevenson High School in Lincolnshire for UW was a big change for Goldman, who had always been successful in high school.  “I went from being a big fish in a little pond to a little fish in a huge pond of 40,000,” she says. “What better way to handle it than to avoid it?”

She began feeling the pressure to fit in and the need for control and began under-eating and over-exercising. When she came home for Thanksgiving, everything hit the fan and she was put into a treatment center for anorexia. Years later, Goldman’s experiences would inspire her to write her book, talking with women in gym locker rooms to reveal the truth about body image.

Though there is no proven research, Goldman says she thinks there is a definite link between being Jewish and eating disorders. Among the reasons, she included the pressure to succeed, strong dedication to education, putting others before yourself and, for many, having to the money to finance gym memberships and plastic surgery.

“I believe to be Jewish is to have an eating disorder of some sort,” she says. “In Jewish life, food is used to show love, food is used to mourn, holidays are based around food,” she says.

I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life's a bitch. You've got to go out and kick ass.
--Maya Angelou

Following the speakers, the participants split into groups to define several problems—the influence of food, the media, sexual pressures on self-destructive behaviors—and proposed programming to combat those problems.

After a similar Think Tank program in Detroit the following day, a December seminar in Washington, D.C. about girls in leadership—how accomplished Jewish girls are, and a spring seminar in Los Angeles about girls and money, JWI will likely conduct another survey and eventually develop new programming based on these findings.

“Our goal is to drill down our understanding of where Jewish girls are,” Weinstein says, “and create new programming driven through the bloodstream of Jewish organizations.”

To learn more about JWI and the Brain Power for Girl Power Think Tanks, visit  www.jwi.org . 

Michael Goldenberg, citizen of the Jewish World

In his 31 years, Michael Goldenberg has lived in three very different places. Born in Nizhnii Novgorod (then Gorkii), Russia, Goldenberg moved to Israel at the age of 13, and then came to Chicago in 2002 to earn his MBA from Loyola University. Now a financial planner at MB Bank, Goldenberg has also devoted time to engaging other Russian-speaking Jews in community initiatives.

So whether you’ve served in elite Israeli army divisions, love Russian American literature or crunch numbers for a living, Michael Goldenberg is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
A superhero: I always thought it would be fun to jump around, fly and save people.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
As a financial planner, I meet a lot of different people and see a variety of situations. I actually did become a superhero of a sort – I help people in different situations.

3. What are you reading?
I’m part of the Russian Jewish American book club. The most recent book was Anya Ulinich’s Petropolis ,  which showed me the reality of Russia in a way that I didn’t understand it as a child when I left it at 13. It made me appreciate the fact that my parents emigrated from Russia and provided me with the opportunity to grow up in the Western world.

4. What is your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I love Flat Top Grill, a make-your-own-stir-fry place. I get to make my own choices about ingredients and invent new combinations. It’s a bit about exploring life.

5. If money and logistics played no part, what would you invent?
That’s a hard one. I’m quite satisfied with the world the way it is. But if I really had to, I would invent a real all-in-one workout machine that would also let you play actual video games. Not like WiiFit, but one where you actually exert yourself.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or to be invisible?
I never really wanted to fly; I just wanted to have powers to jump really high. I definitely never wanted to be invisible – that’s somewhat depressing because it’s total solitude. If no one can see you, no one can communicate with you.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod what guilty pleasure would I find?
The strangest thing that I wouldn’t expect myself to listen to is Bjork. It’s a weird sound, but I like her music.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago? In other words, how do you Jew?
I like doing all kinds of Jewish things with my friends: Hillel parties, Shabbat dinners; most recently a Purim in October party a friend hosted on Halloween night. And I like the Israeli Film Festival – I’ve attended every single year since I came to the States and will definitely check out the movies from this year.

Matthue Roth, blending Orthodox and Pop culture

Former Lakeview resident Matthue Roth has always been a writer, spending many of his early teen years running home after school to write science fiction stories. His new novel,  Losers  might not be about outer space, but the story of a Russian Jew named Jupiter Glazer’s struggle against loser-dom does have elements of a stranger in a strange land.

While Roth has written about Jewish life before—his first book,  Never Mind the Goldbergs , tells the story of an Orthodox punk-rock girl who runs off to Hollywood to star on a sitcom—he says that Losers is a more personal story.

“When I was in Jr. High and I had no friends, I would come home every day and write more. I grew up in a working class Jewish environment in Philly, the neighborhood is somewhat like Rogers Park, just a little too far from the city to go hang out after school. Because the story takes place in the kind of neighborhood I grew up in, writing Losers was like going home.”

I spoke with Roth about the book and his life as a self-described Hasidic Jew who embraces the modern world.

Oy!: You’ve written about teenagers a few times now. What is it about that age group that inspires you?
Roth: I kinda feel like I’m still 15 sometimes! Teenagers have the autonomy to inspire themselves and the real world hasn’t gotten them down. When you’re a teenager, you’re angry and righteously so, but you’re idealistic. I hope I haven’t lost my passion, idealism or the ability to stay up all night. It’s the time in life when stuff is starting to happen and you’re in control of your destiny. Nothing has ever been so hard or so exciting.

How much of your own life inspired the character of Jupiter Glazer? Do you miss him now that the book is finished?
I miss my characters tremendously. I want to write more about the characters from Goldberg but I am not ready. A lot of characters in Losers are based on parts of people I know—the book is dedicated to my best friend who died recently. We met in third grade and became friends and stuck it out. Everyone thinks that I’m Jupiter or he is, but that’s not it. There are parts of him in [all of the characters]. I am writing because I can’t hold these characters back, they surprise you and they should.

What do you do when you’re not working on novels?
I’m an editor at MyJewishLearning.com--it’s actually really cool, I get to do the weirder things like videos and multi-media and the blog.  The whole concept of a day job is still really new to me, in the past; I have done a lot of freelancing and a lot of spoken word performing. But now I have a baby and I want things to be a bit more stable. My wife and I had a baby eight months ago and it’s really awesome. Every time you hear a song on the radio it’s like a new song for the first time. She’s in love with everything--right now she’s in love with Prince and They Might Giants. I’m in love with Losers. I see a million flaws in Jupiter, but that’s why I love him. But love for my kid trumps my love for the book, which is a new concept.

Your bio describes you as a Hasidic Jew who embraces the modern world. Can you talk about those seemingly opposing religious and cultural ideas?
I grew up conservative and then became modern Orthodox. My wife grew up Hasidic. My Rabbi had always said the difference between modern and traditional Orthodox is that modern Orthodox people sees holiness in everything—his philosophy is that everything is holy, all music has some degree of passion and holiness and godliness. I met my wife’s family who are all Hasidic and learned that my father-in-law’s favorite band is Dire Straits. I mean you can question his taste but there’s a degree to which passion extends to the things they love.

How does that blending of religion and pop culture influence your work?
My first two books are about being Orthodox. The sitcom in Never Mind the Goldbergs is about an Orthodox family, but she is also a punk girl playing a straight Orthodox girl. At its heart, the book is about how you can’t say this is Orthodox, this is Judaism, this is God. In Losers, Jupiter is just a Russian dork that is not sure about himself or his place in the universe. But over the course of the book, he is learning and making connections to people. That’s religion to me, this process of discovery where you never actually discover anything –the process is where the love is.

What advice do you have to aspiring authors or performers?
Before I sold Losers I had literally five books I have written get rejected. When I sold my first book, I came to New York to walk into offices and tell agents to be interested in me. After doing that a lot and people looked at me like I was crazy, I got a call from a company in San Francisco asking me to write a memoir. They had seen my ‘zines and heard about my spoken word--I was at open mikes six nights a week for three years. My advice would be never underestimate the power of saying things. Say things loud and in as many places as you can because you never know who’s listening.

What are you working on now?
I’m working on a sequel to Losers, right now it’s called Enemies but I’m bad with sticking to a title. I’m also working on big project called G-dcast, it’s basically getting artists and musicians and writers and other cool people to tell stories from the Torah portions each week.

For more from Matthue Roth, check out his blog  http://matthues.diaryland.com/ . 

In a continuing exploration of Jewishness, Jane Charney discovered Jewish history and Jewish life on Gibraltar in August 2008

Gilana Alpert had a way with music. She played guitar like it was an extension of her hands rather than a separate instrument. As she led Friday-night Reform services at Indiana University Hillel, she brought music into the service that made the sanctuary feel empty for me when the guitar wasn’t there. A striking redhead, Gilana made me – a newbie to the world of Jewish practice – feel welcomed and accepted.

In a testament to how small the Jewish world is, I now work with Gilana’s sister Aleza at the Jewish United Fund/Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Chicago. We played Jewish geography recently and figured out that Gilana and I studied at IU at nearly the same time. I lost touch with Gilana when she graduated and stopped leading services after my sophomore year at Indiana University. Aleza told me last week that Gilana suffered a stroke last year and died tragically at 26. Her yarzheit was Monday, November 3, and I want to let her family know that they are not the only ones missing her voice and her music.

The Friday night services were something my friends and I looked forward to all week. We’d go to services, have Hillel dinner made by a Baptist cook (who by now knew more about kashrut than many rabbis), and then go out for dessert, a movie or to a party afterward. I had never been big into Judaism as a religion. By then, I’d gone to a Reform Sunday School for three years (mostly because I loved the history courses), and I struggled – and still do – with my relationship with G-d. I had also tried to forget three atrocious summers at a Lubavitcher summer camp just outside of Moscow, where my parents had sent my sister and me because other Jewish experiences were hard to come by in Russia in the early 1990s. My sister loved it; I hated it. Now our roles have reversed.

I can’t pinpoint exactly which moment it was that I fell in love with being Jewish, but it was definitely one of the Friday night services Gilana led. A Rabbi’s daughter from Michigan, she taught me that the melodies we produce with our hearts have a worthy accompaniment in the guitar. Her melodies and easygoing style made me see that offering a prayer doesn’t have to be about perfection or fervent belief. It can also be about participating in a tradition that makes you feel like part of a community.

This idea is at the root of my connection to Judaism. Whether I’m making challah, lighting Shabbat candles, or reciting the Haggadah on Passover, I’m feeling an instantaneous connection to the community. Since those freshman year Friday nights, I’ve married a nice Russian Jewish boy. I’ve gone to Israel twice and hope to return again and again. I’ve explored what it means to be a Russian Jewish American through volunteering for Russian Hillel and working as a madricha at the annual Midwest Russian Shabbaton. I’ve attended retreats and leadership training sessions. I’ve worked for the Jewish community in three states. I’ve grown as a Jew and as a human, having decided that combining elements from different movements in a “do-it-yourself Judaism” approach was just as good as each of the movements within official Judaism.

Through it all, I have kept Gilana’s wisdom and gift of music as a source of inspiration throughout the past seven years. In the years to come I will continue to explore what it means to be Jewish. And every time I do, I’ll think back to those wonderful Friday night services and the song leader who has given me one of the greatest gifts – the ability to love my people, my culture, my faith and myself.

A rendering of what the building will look like upon completion

It’s impossible to turn on the TV or open a magazine without hearing about going green, sustainability, hybrid cars and other issues related to the environment. Today, it’s easy to find organic produce and green cleaning products at most grocery stores and there are entire stores that only sell items made from recycled or repurposed materials. With all the hype, it might be tempting to buy new counter cleaner and call it a day. But in Logan Square, neighbors and business owners are getting together to make sure that going green is more than a trend.

The massive warehouse at 2545 West Diversey has been a landmark in the Logan Square neighborhood since it was erected at the turn of the 20th century.  Throughout the years, it has been a vital source of employment for the community and a driving force in the local economy.  It has survived different owners and changing work environments and today, the building is going green.

Built by the Vasser Swiss Underwear Company to house “the finest knitting mill in the world,” during its heyday, the factory employed over 1,000 people. The mill was equipped with its own power plant, area for coal storage, laboratories and a clock tower. It was one of the first to provide space for employees to eat and take breaks. The company produced a variety of undergarments up until 1967 when Frederick Cooper Lamps purchased the factory to manufacture its high-end lamps. In 2005, Frederick Cooper Lamps closed the factory and put the building up for sale.

Upset over the loss of jobs in the community, neighbors organized to create the Cooper Lamps Task Force to keep the building from being turned into condominiums. With the support of 1st Ward Alderman Manuel Flores, the building was sold to Baum Development, a real estate development company recognized for its expertise in adaptive reuse and acclaimed for its preservation of historic landmarks. Co-founders Doug and David Baum bought the building initially unsure of how to develop it, but recognizing its “great bones,” Doug and David Baum promised that the building’s purpose would be to revitalize the area economy.

Green Exchange

The new concept for the building originated with Barry Bursak, a local longtime environmentalist who saw potential in such a large space. According to David Baum, “[Barry] was envisioning a green marketplace where he could house his sustainable furniture store alongside other eco-friendly businesses.” Bursak envisioned a green building that would encourage the creation and development of different types of green industries. While the brothers had never developed a green building, the concept of a totally green space immediately appealed to them. Having grown up in a household that emphasized recycling, they had always been passionate about environmental issues.

“My mother was a school teacher and a big proponent of taking care of the environment,” says Baum. “I have clear memories of driving to the recycling center with my mom so that my brother [Doug] and I could throw glass bottles into the recycling bins. We thought it was a blast, but it also had a lasting effect on how we live and work. Being an environmental steward has long been a part of my life experience, and my brother and I carried that ethos into both our personal and professional lives. And now that we both have children, the health and welfare of this planet and the condition in which we leave it is even more important.”

The two realized that going green was the next evolution in their business plan. The company has what it calls a “triple bottom line approach.”  Meaning that their measure of success is not only a financial return on investment, but also an examination of how the project contributed to the community and how it protected the environment through sustainable development.

Baum explains, “Green Exchange is a prime example of this approach as we are, without a doubt, in this venture to make money, but we are working closely with the local community to create green collar jobs and revitalize the area economically. Finally, from an environmental perspective, the building is aspiring to LEED Platinum status which is the highest level of certification available for green buildings.”

Construction still has to be completed on the site before the building will become the sixth in Chicago to receive its LEED Platinum status; but it has already been rewarded with another impressive designation---historical landmark status, which seems a bit incongruous. A building that receives historical landmark status, it goes without saying, is pretty old. The use of sustainable green technology usually happens within the framework of new construction. The Baum brothers have managed to do both.

Ninety-five percent of the original structure will remain intact. By cutting down on the tons of waste normally produced in a tear down, this building has turned into one big recycling project. Just by adapting the building and re-using the space, it is already well on its way to going green.

A marriage between historic and green has equaled huge savings for the future Green Exchange businesses and their customers. Tenants will benefit from Class L tax incentives that significantly reduce property taxes for historical landmarks. In addition, LEED Platinum building will lower all utility costs due to the highly insulated walls and roofs combined with 600 high-performance windows. In addition, a sophisticated HVAC system will allow for individualized temperature control of tenant spaces, cutting down on individual energy consumption.

“One discovery we made is that a green escalator that incorporates occupancy sensors and varying speeds – using 30% less energy than a traditional escalator,” says Baum. “In addition to cool new features there are green options that are being re-discovered. For example, we will be using a 41,000-gallon rain cistern to irrigate the green roof and sky garden. While some of the technology used to predict rainfall and to pull the water from the basement to the roof is modern, the concept of gathering rain for re-use goes back to ancient civilizations. It’s a lovely blend of the past and the future.”



The sky garden adjacent to the organic restaurant

Inside the Space

Slated to open in the spring of 2009, the 272,000 square-foot building will be the largest eco friendly building in the country. “This will be the healthiest building you can build,” explains Jennifer Schellinger, director of marketing and PR for Green Exchange. Currently, there are six green businesses with plans to move into the space ranging from a packing company that uses sustainable handmade products to a marketing company that specializes in green services. There will also be an organic restaurant adjacent to an 8,000 square foot sky garden and a parking lot with priority spots designated for low-emitting vehicles.

The building will also be able to accommodate entrepreneurs and small businesses that want to be in a green environment, but don’t necessarily need a large, freestanding store. These turn-key type spaces will be equipped with many amenities including an option to rent a space that includes living quarters. The current plan offers any tenant the opportunity to work and live in the same environmentally friendly building.

“The lofts offer the perfect amount of seclusion and interaction, as you are neighbors with some of the world’s most pioneering green businesses, said Schellinger. “You’ll be exposed to myriad networking events, marketing opportunities, educational seminars and eco-leader speaker series as a tenant of the Green Exchange.”

The future of green

Cautiously optimistic about the success of the project, Baum Development hopes to develop similar buildings on a much larger scale. “Green Exchange will hopefully be a business model for the planet,” says Schellinger. And locally, there are plans in place to create an educational center within the building to help educate the city of Chicago about how to live green lifestyles.

“We are creating a one-stop environment where people can learn about green initiatives and the latest innovations, where they can purchase green goods and services and where they can meet and mingle with others who have similar goals and objectives,” says Baum.

According to Baum, the green movement is here to stay. “The future is bright green. This has moved beyond the trend phase and into the mainstream consciousness; we have no choice … attention needs to be paid and changes need to happen if we want our children and our children’s children to inherit a healthy planet.”

Mike Bregman, patching together his own political quilt

I have spent most of my political life on the fence, being pulled in various directions by teachers, friends and family. In high school, I worked on a campaign to nominate my local Democratic state representative for Governor. I was also part of a conservative group that supported a Republican candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives. Having grown up in north suburban Chicago - which felt like a liberal haven - I seek to patch together my own political quilt, consistent with my upbringing, experiences and values.

I know that America is the land of the free – a country my grandparents longed for as they languished in the Jewish ghetto of Shanghai, China for nearly 10 years during and after World War II. But I also know that our playing field is not level. Our vast opportunities are but a farce if all may not partake. I have been given opportunities to succeed and am doing my best to make good on them, hoping to one day be able to enjoy the success I have earned as I please. My political conscience is plagued by innate dichotomies. It is no wonder I have gravitated toward the candidate who I feel is closest to the middle of the political spectrum. Regardless of just how close he comes to that middle, I believe John McCain clearly edges out Barack Obama in mirroring my personal beliefs in hard work, responsibility and freedom.

To say this election season has been a downright disappointment would be an understatement. I think that both political campaigns, as well as every single television news outlet, have engaged in low-brow tactics and partisan-filtered political spin. So as voters, we must sift through the issues to choose one candidate over another based on our own values and experiences. Some of the issues that matter to me are the economy, Israel and bipartisanship.

The Economy:

My dad is a modest small-business owner. He worked hard every day in order to support us, all the while managing to be an attentive, loving and involved parent. My first grade teacher, who we will call Mrs. F., may have been the meanest woman ever to grace an elementary school classroom. One day, as I sat crying at my little desk with my head buried in my arms, Mrs. F. scolded me not to “get tears on my assignment.” Every week without fail, I would try to convince my mom to let me stay home from school so I would not have to face Mrs. F. More often than I like to admit, my mom would take me to the doctor based on my less-than-truthful claims of a sore throat or an earache. My parents paid for every penny of our health insurance out of their own pockets, including every Mrs. F.-induced throat culture. They have set an inspiring example of hard work, responsibility and sacrifice that guides me today as I work full-time and attend law school classes at night. While I believe in helping those who cannot help themselves, we should be wary of any politician, Democrat or Republican, who says we need to exploit one group of Americans for the supposed benefit of another group.

Examination of each candidate’s economic proposals reveals adherence to standard liberal and, with regard to McCain, some conservative approaches to the economy. According to The Tax Foundation, a nonpartisan research group, Obama’s and McCain’s tax plans would leave 44% and 43% of tax-filers, respectively, with no income tax liability at all. McCain intends to implement a $5,000 health care credit for people to purchase their own health insurance. But Obama plans to stick 5% of Americans with the highest ever tax increase and enact a long list of income transfers from taxpayers to non-taxpayers as tax credits. I am no die-hard fan of trickle-down economics. Nor am I an economics expert, but in my view, it seems that increasing taxes on small and large businesses, a very significant 5% of American taxpayers who help drive our economy, will discourage industry and result in fewer jobs, hurling us further into an economic crisis. The Obama premise that wealthy Americans can afford to “spare a little,” as he said in the last debate, is a dangerous, slippery slope. I agree with John McCain; America did not become a great country by transferring or distributing wealth. We became great by creating new wealth. America is a prosperous nation because of our work ethic and our freedoms.

Israel:

As a young Hebrew school student at a Conservative synagogue, I was instilled with a reverence for the Jewish state, including its significance in our faith and among our people following the Holocaust. My grandfather was a young man when he was faced with a choice: remain in Germany and face near-certain death or leave his home by taking, literally, a slow boat to China. After spending three nights hiding in the Berlin Zoo, he made his choice. In Shanghai he met my Austrian grandmother, whose father, a well-decorated and esteemed veteran of the First World War, had been beaten and driven away from his home and business on Kristallnacht. His country had spurned him and his service. Their chances in Shanghai were better, but the situation was also dangerous. My grandmother shared countless stories of the illness and poor living conditions that they suffered for almost 10 years before they had a chance to come to America. For many Jews, in their own stories of survival, the land of Israel substitutes for Shanghai. Although I plan to go on a Birthright trip, I have not yet been to Israel. Nonetheless, I understand the increasing importance of the State of Israel as a safe-haven for Jews around the world.

As a Jewish voter, I believe there is no more uncompromising supporter of Israel than John McCain. He understands the gravity of Islamic extremists determined to destroy the lone democratic state in a very hostile region. We know where he stands on the issue. Throughout the campaign, Obama has gone back and forth on statements regarding the specifics of his support for Israel. Obama says that Israel has a right to defend itself one day, and then says Israelis should allow for policies that would leave Israel unable to defend itself the next. In an interview with the Jerusalem Post on July 24, 2008, Obama said, “Look, I think that both sides on this equation are going to have to make some calculations. Israel may seek ‘67-plus’ and justify it in terms of the buffer that they need for security purposes. They've got to consider whether getting that buffer is worth the antagonism of the other party.” Without a security buffer in the West Bank, it is not difficult for one to expect Hamas to take over the West Bank as quickly as it seized Gaza, creating nearly indefensible borders. In my view, Obama does not seem to grasp the magnitude of “antagonism” of which he speaks, which could likely resemble the endless rocket attacks from Gaza or worse. The stakes are too high to gamble on what I believe is a misguided and naïve understanding of the reality Israel faces.

Bipartisanship:

Many voters are quick to embrace Obama and his staunchly liberal views because of the arguably unsuccessful Bush presidency. Obama was rated the most liberal legislator in the Senate for 2007 by the independent National Journal. It is not good enough that Obama excuses his ultra-orthodox voting record by insisting that he was simply opposing Bush’s policies. The sooner that voters realize the best answers to our problems lie toward the middle of the political spectrum, the better off we will be.

McCain has a long history of breaking with his party and the president to enact major legislation on a number of issues. As a second-year law student, I have the opportunity to study the legislative process in depth. In my opinion, if our Congress consists of senators and representatives who vote like Obama, voters will continue to be let down. Moderates from both parties must be able to work together in order to pass legislation and address pressing issues that face all Americans. As a testament to his willingness to go against his own party, in the final presidential debate Obama cited his support for a tort reform initiative. As admirable as that is, I do not believe that curbing frivolous lawsuits is a significant priority for a vast majority of Americans.

The Obama campaign and highly partisan Democrats try to spin McCain into a Bush clone. Given Bush’s abysmal popularity ratings, it would be foolish not to employ such a strategy. But from my standpoint as an independent thinker, the choice is clear. I think that what I consider Obama’s thinly veiled adherence to hard-Left ideology rings more of the party-first Bush administration than some voters realize.

My belief that John McCain leans toward the center of the political spectrum leads to my hope that Americans will not choose to substitute one extreme for another in the face of hard times.

Aviva Gibbs, early voter

In February of 2007, I took a bus to the Old State Capitol in Springfield, to witness Senator Obama formally kick-off his campaign in the spot where President Lincoln once spoke of a house divided.  In front of me stood a handsome woman with perfect hair and a fur coat (who unknowingly blocked the bitter wind). Behind me was a man in a service station uniform who smelled of motor oil and long hours. On my right was an iPodded young woman who was likely voting in her first election, and to my left, a Republican State Representative who smiled when he noticed me noticing him.

I was standing in the center of the Obama campaign.

You rarely witness that kind of cross-section – people of “all walks,” as my grandmother would have said – standing shoulder to shoulder, looking in the same direction. You see it occasionally in airports. Or at the DMV, where social or economic status doesn’t get you a better place in line. But you don’t tend to see it voluntarily on a nearly sub-zero day in Springfield.  It could have been summer though, and I still would have had chills; something remarkable was happening.

You rarely witness that cross-section of people, because they so rarely have anything in common, until now. What I saw that day was a glimpse into the rest of Senator Obama’s campaign. On that bitter cold day, each person in my small unlikely circle had his or her own set of unique challenges and craved a fundamental change from recent history.  Maybe the young woman wanted to know that this new administration would take a pragmatic approach to climate change. Maybe the fancy lady bought that coat in the ‘90s, when she was in a more confident financial position, and wanted to know now that her grandchildren would have access to affordable healthcare. Maybe the mechanic, who likely makes less than $250,000 a year, wanted middle-class tax relief. And maybe the Republican State legislator, who has spent plenty of literal and figurative cold days in Springfield, wanted a leader who would pierce through the divisiveness and remind us of our common ground.

They came for different types of change, and it seems clear to me that Barack Obama managed to answer each of their calls directly.

Fast-forward to last weekend, when I went to vote early. There was a line over thirty minutes long. To vote. Early. Yes, we’re in Blue Chicago, where our native son cut his proverbial teeth and McCain bumper stickers seem as odd as ketchup on a hot dog.

But it’s not just here: unparalleled voter registration, turnout, and early vote totals have blown previously-set records out of the water on both sides of aisle, in all corners of the country.  People have given more time and money in this election than any other in presidential history. From where I sit, it looks like for the first time in a long time, people are truly voting for someone, and not against someone else.

I’m not saying popularity is the, or even a, reason to vote for Senator Obama. But the fact that he has been able to reach out and motivate “all walks” speaks volumes. His ability to inspire people at a time when, let’s be honest, we could use some inspiration, will leave a powerful and critical legacy. It will impact those whose names appear further down the ballot – and in turn, all of us – for this cycle and beyond.

That legacy is of particular significance to me. I used to manage a State legislative office where “all walks” would stop in, usually to complain. An issue with their local school council turned into an issue with the city school system which turned into a diatribe on how education is funded by the State, and so on. When all of my insights and otherwise-practical suggestions were dismissed, I’d go back to basics and ask if they were registered to vote. The idea of a citizen exercising his or her veto power by voting was as preposterous as ketchup… well, you know. For the record, they usually weren’t registered, though I bet they are now.  Senator Obama has mobilized an electorate exhausted by disappointment and has moved them to pay attention – to cast aside the apathy and connect the dots between their local school and their elected officials.

It doesn’t matter if Senator Obama is sincere, which I think he is, or has the chops to do the job, which I believe he certainly does: Pundits will criticize voters and say we’ve been seduced by “rock star” sizzle where there might not be steak. Voters aren’t stupid, nor are they easily wooed by hype. They talk about it at the water cooler, yes, but they don’t stand in early vote lines or in bitter cold Springfield just to say they were there. Senator Obama transcends hype much the way he has transcended barriers and partisanship before.

As for my decision to enthusiastically support Obama, I don’t think I can say it better than did the Chicago Tribune – a newspaper that has never endorsed a Democrat for U.S. President since it began making such endorsements in, wait for it, 1872:

“We have tremendous confidence in his intellectual rigor, his moral compass and his ability to make sound, thoughtful, careful decisions. He is ready… The change that Obama talks about so much is not simply a change in this policy or that one… Obama envisions change in the way we deal with one another”

Allow me to add to the Trib’s list: He has risen from community organizer to State Senator to U.S. Senator to Presidential candidate with grace, strength and respect. He has repeatedly chosen to be right, rather than consistent, often to the chagrin of those on his own side of the aisle. He has made pragmatic governing choices over politically-motivated ones (one needs to look no further than his choice in running mate, but I digress).  He has taken the high road and focused upon the issues at a time when it has mattered most.  He has the humility to ask for help from those who have more familiarity with an issue than he might.  He listens carefully and builds consensus with the integrity of his word and the ease of his manner.

We are at a critical moment. As Sen. Biden would say, “let me say it again, because this is important:” We are at a critical moment. Much of it seems far bigger than any of us, but we are not powerless. We have the ability – right now – to make a fundamental shift in the direction we’ve been heading.

As Senator Obama recently said,

“At this defining moment in our history, the question is not, “are you better off than you were four years ago?”  We all know the answer to that. The real question is will our country be better off four years from now?”

I proudly voted for Obama (and several sensible, local candidates and referenda also on the ballot) not because he can talk the talk, but because he’s walked with all walks. And they all have compelling reasons to follow him.

Ristorante Prosecco
710 N. Wells
Chicago
312-951-9500
www.ristoranteprosecco.com

Rating: Three and a half stars

   



Prosecco, where food and service are as sparkling as the champagne

I am unabashed in my love of sparkling wines.  And while I have a particular affinity both for the true French champagnes, and for the sparklers made in the Méthode Champenoise from other regions of the world, I don’t turn down a good cava from Spain or a prosecco from Italy.  For the sake of ease, despite the twitch it is likely to produce in any serious oenophiles who may be reading this, it’s really all champagne to me, and I tend to refer to it as such.  I don’t need an occasion to drink champagne, any random day will do. Sparkling is the first section I go to in any wine list, and frankly, having decent bubbles by an affordable glass price will endear a restaurant to me faster than almost anything else.  I’m blessed with a circle of friends who also enjoy life a little ‘frissante’, and, while we always start the evening with champagne, we often stick with it, letting the magic twinkle take us all the way from salad to entrée to dessert with neither shame nor apology.

It’s a long love affair for me, and the person most to blame isn’t that famous monk who exclaimed he was drinking stars when he accidentally invented my go-to beverage.  It’s my dad, with some help from WGN television.

One Sunday when I was maybe eight or nine, my dad and I were watching television together.  I know it outs me as old when I say that this was a time well before cable, and with only about twelve stations to choose from, Sundays without football were all about old movies.  Flipping through the stations we landed upon the Sunday Afternoon Movie on WGN, which also tended to run the Late Morning Movie, the Early Afternoon Movie, the Mid-Twilight Movie, the Sort-Of-Early Evening Movie, not to mention the Late, Late-Late, and Really-Freaking-Late-Why-Don’t-You-Go-Bed-Already Movie.  A classic black-and white comedy of manners from the forties, full of happy wealthy people who seem never to go to work and are always planning some big party.  This is how I know it was just me and dad, since my sister has never been able to abide anything in black and white, and was probably off somewhere with my mom, who will never choose the couch if she can be actually doing something.

I wish I could remember the exact film, but ultimately it is irrelevant.  What I do remember is this:  A gentleman stops by the house of the family at the center of the film, uninvited and unexpected, in the middle of the afternoon.  They greet him warmly and ask if he would like a drink.  He says, and this is very clear in my mind “Well, thanks. Don’t mind if I do.  I’ll have a champagne.”

And the uniformed maid goes to fetch it for him.

Just like that.

Not on New Year’s Eve, no one’s birthday cake in sight.  Just as if he were asking for a glass of water or a Coke.  “I’ll have a champagne.”

It was the coolest thing I had ever seen, and I made a mental promise to myself right then and there that when I was a grown-up, there would always be champagne in my house and anyone could ask for it on any day and at any time.

Fast forward to now, and I am, despite some of my occasional behavior, a grown-up, and in my house, there is always champagne.  I always keep a couple of half-bottles, since I live alone and should not be consuming whole bottles on my own, but nor should I be thwarted in my desire for a glass when I feel like one.  I keep usually two full bottles cold, one “everyday” champagne (Gruet, a lovely wine from Albuquerque of all places, and utterly delicious), and one of “special occasion” champagne, in case someone calls with excellent news (Nicholas Feuillette, Perrier-Jouet, or Taltarni, a great pink from Australia).  And at least four bottles unchilled, in case a party breaks out.  You never know.  For really special stuff you’ll find me looking for Veuve Cliquot’s La Grande Dame, preferably pink, and if someone of means is buying, it’s all Krug all the time.

But I also often stock up on prosecco, the famed sparkler of Italy, which can be a very reasonably-priced alternative to champagnes, and is delightful in its own right.  It also comes in half-bottles which, unlike champagne, are priced at literally half of the full size, which is great for a single girl on a budget.  For big parties, I often buy prosecco by the case.  So it should be no surprise to anyone that when Chicago got it’s very own proseccheria, and I heard that the food was worth checking out, I got myself a reservation.



Prosecco offers a warm, comfortable environment

Ristorante Prosecco is a warm and comfortable room, decorated in muted Venetian tones, with tall ceilings and a generous comfortable bar.  I meet Rachel, my intrepid dining companion, also a major bubbly consumer, and we indulge in a glass of the house specialty before being led to a simple table off to the side.  It becomes clear that this is classic white-tablecloth Italian food, the menu is obviously seasonal, and seems to represent Italy as a whole, with dishes from many different regions.  We receive immediately two small tastes of a rose prosecco , brought to us by the sommelier Christian, who will be guiding our wine choices for the evening.  I resist the desire to tell him to only bring bubbles, and focus instead on the menu.



Pick your bubbly at the Prosecco bar

We sip our prosecco and have some bread with agrodolce, a sweet and sour Italian condiment, a compote concocted of eggplant, tomato, raisins, and pine nuts cooked with vinegar and sugar.  I start with the biggest diver sea scallop I have ever seen, with braised fennel and lemon in a mild broth that cries out to be sopped up with the crusty bread.  The scallop is impeccably fresh, caramelized well on the outside and tender within, and as sweet as any I have ever tasted.  Rachel opts for the soup of the day, a chilled puree of avocado with a red-pepper swirl, and confesses the urge to pick the bowl up and drink with abandon.  Christian paired this course with a 2006 "Rosenere" Sangiovese Di Romagna Superiore by La Palazza from Emilia Romagna.  He explains that the grape is the same sangiovese as in Tuscany and particularly as in Chianti, but when grown over the border in Emilia Romagna, it tends to take on a smoother, more velvety texture.  When he leaves, I explain to Rachel that I have no idea what any of that means, except that it is a really lovely glass of wine, and that I’m suddenly not sad at the lack of bubbles.  She agrees heartily, as our empty plates are whisked away and a barrage of pastas descend.  I may have over-ordered, but it is an Italian restaurant, and how could I effectively make recommendations to you, my faithful readers, if I didn’t taste a whole bunch of them, hmmm?

Okay, we ordered four pastas and a risotto for two people.

And we were glad that we did.



The Rigatoni Norcina

The Rigatoni Norcina, a fairly straightforward presentation of a light tomato cream sauce with pancetta and mild sausage, was very tasty, if not exactly unusual.  The Orrechiette Tartufate, on the other hand, was not just delicious, but unique…the ear-shaped pasta with wild mushrooms, artichoke hearts, sun-dried tomatoes and black truffle cream sauce with white truffle oil and shaved Grana Padano, in a word, trufflicious.  The Gnocchi Gorgonzola were slightly gummy, the spinach in the dumplings serving to do little more than color the dough, and the gorgonzola sauce seemed slightly overwrought.  But the Risotto of the day, served with a short-rib ragu, was rich without being heavy, the rice perfectly al dente and creamy, and the ragu was vibrant and earthy, the meat perfectly tender.  But the surprise of the evening was the Fontina-Stuffed Gnocchi, in a tomato vodka sauce with prosciutto.  These puffs of lightness literally melted on the tongue, with the creamy cheese oozing out and blending with the simple tart sauce in a truly perfect mouthful.  I’ve never had gnocchi like them, and frankly would not have believed such airiness was possible in a potato-based dumpling without tasting for myself.  Rachel rolled her eyes back in her head and proclaimed them “clouds of total yumminess.” She was absolutely correct.  Christian paired this feast with a 2004 Masciarelli, Montepulciano from Abruzzo.  This is a grape from central Italy that tends to be medium-bodied with some nice red fruit and a distinctive almost meaty nose.  It held up well to all but the gorgonzola gnocchi, which we found pretty impressive, especially with all the different flavors we had going on.

Despite our pasta bacchanal, we gamely ordered entrees, a mere two this time, for the sake of propriety.  Rachel had the Spigola Agrodolce, a Mediterranean striped bass in a different version of the condiment I mentioned earlier, this one with sweet peppers, Sicilian cherry tomatoes, olives, capers, and golden raisins, which was fine, the fish light and well-cooked, but slightly over-sauced for such a mild flaky fish.  I had the Saltimbocca di Vitello, a traditional preparation of veal scallops with prosciutto and fresh mozzarella in a tomato brandy sage sauce, which was excellent, the meat perfectly cooked and the flavors well-balanced, but sadly paired with lackluster mashed potatoes and sautéed spinach that suffered from too much garlic.  Christian brought us a 2004 Vivalda "L'Clumbe" Barbera from Piemonte, which is now officially my favorite Barbera, nice and chewy with hints of both currants and chocolate, very drinkable.



Profiteroles, a refreshing bit of sweet after a decadent meal

For dessert we stuck with tradition, a basic tiramisu and profiteroles, both lovely and not cloying and somehow refreshing bits of sweet after a decadent meal.  And Christian didn’t let us down, bringing us back to bubbles with a really special dessert wine, "Amis" Brachetto d'Asti by Villa Giada from Piemonte. It’s a dolce frizzante rosso (sweet fizzy red!) made from a relatively rare grape called brachetto, very light, but seriously aromatic and totally tingly on the tongue.  (say that ten times fast if you can!)

Overall, excellent food, thoughtfully prepared, and some really wonderful wines.  The service was exceptional, and even better, despite the room being quite full, Rachel and I never had much sense of the other diners…a rarity these days, when a full house often means an oppressively loud dining experience.

Granted, I was pre-disposed to like Prosecco.  After all, any place as devoted to fizzy lifting drinks as I am is to be commended and celebrated.  It was wonderful to find the food and service as sparkly as the wine.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey
www.staceyballis.com

NOSH of the week:  Well, considering the theme this week, it seemed time for a cocktail. And while I’m usually a champagne purist, and don’t like to add things to it, every now and again it is possible to make something so inherently perfect even more sublime.  My favorite trick for sparkling wines of all kinds is to put a finger of Pineau des Charantes in the bottom of the flute.  Pineau is a light cognac from France that has a lot of apple scent to it, and is traditionally served chilled or over ice.  I love it at the end of a summer day in the same way I like a warm cognac at the end of a winter’s day. Great on its own, but truly special in your effervescents.  Just that inch or so takes any sparkling wine and puts a velvet smoking jacket on it…taking all the acid finish away and making for a very smooth and different drinking experience.  You can get a good bottle for about $20 at Sam’s, just keep it in the fridge and I bet you’ll fall in love with it.  Want something a little fancier and slightly less subtle?  Give your bubbles the same treatment with a bit of St.Germain elderflower liqueur, also available at Sam’s for around $28, a glorious not-overly sweet floral quaff that I can’t recommend highly enough.  Plus the bottle is gorgeous.

NOSH Food Read of the Week:  Heat  by Bill Buford

Allison Amend talks about love, writing, and being a Jew

In Allison Amend’s debut collection of short stories, Things That Pass for Love, (OV Books), released this week, no matter how far removed the character is from the author, there’s a little bit of Allison in everyone she writes about.

The early-30-something, Chicago-born Jewish author introduces her readers to a world of unusual characters who are funny, quirky, lonely and real. They include an urban school teacher who is converting to Judaism, a cyber erotica writer whose suitor is in love with his dog, a father meeting his illegitimate son for the first time on a pumpkin-picking outing, and a young American Jewish woman sharing Shabbat dinner with an Orthodox family in France. Her characters are all seeking love in some form, but are settling for what “passes for love.” Amend, who now lives in New York City, was raised in a strong Jewish household in Lincoln Park. She attended Stanford University, holds an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and has taught high school English on a Fulbright Fellowship in Lyon, France.

I spoke with Amend while she was in town touring in support of the book. We discussed the theme of her collection, her inspirations and why she thinks emerging writers ought to consider a career in accounting.



Things That Pass For Love

Why did you want to release a collection of short stories?
I’ve always been interested in writing stories, since the first grade. When I went to graduate school in Iowa, they have a workshop system and short stories are much easier to workshop than novels because they are contained and people can discuss your story as a whole. I’ve also always been interested in writing short stories because it’s nice to have a project that gets finished as opposed to my novels; those take me five to eight years to write. I’ve been working on short stories around the novels I’ve been working on. Also, I like the sparseness of a short story, the essentials. You cut away everything you don’t need. My throw-away-to-keep ratio is about 4 to 1.

Would asking you to pick your favorite story be like asking you to pick your favorite child?
I’m most fond of the stories that I’ve written most recently, which makes sense because I’m less sick of them. Some of the stories I wrote a while ago remind me of a less evolved version of myself. It’s hard to look at them because it reminds me of being 27 or whatever.

The voices of each story are so varied. How do you write like so many different types of people?
What I enjoy about writing is that I find it’s like playing dress up. You get to try on a whole bunch of different people’s clothing. For me, part of the joy is to see who these people are, people who are very different from me. Today, I’m a Vietnam veteran, the next day I’m a philandering middle-aged husband.

Is there a theme that connects these disparate stories, and where does the title come from?
Finding a title was a really long process. I felt that there was something very subtle and almost indescribable that was connecting these stories. They feel connected to me, but they’re not necessarily thematically linked. My editor and I were trying to find a title that expresses that and I think we did. These stories are about people looking for love, not necessarily romantic love, but love between a pet and its owner, love between a parent and a child, love between siblings and there are certainly romantic relationships explored in the collection. [Non-romantic relationships] are under-explored in contemporary literature and in literature in general. These characters are looking for those connections, but then what they end up settling for is what “passes for love” between them, and is that enough?”

How much of you is in each character?
There has to be a part of an author in each character even in the sense that that is how the character goes about his/her daily business…They are certainly inspired by situations I’ve thought about, been in, or seen, and they all come from my brain so they’re all semi-autobiographical. They are smart and able to make fun of themselves in a lot of ways, which is how I approach life.

Some of the stories are more autobiographical than others. The story “Good Shabbos,” has an overtly Jewish theme, and is almost verbatim what happened to me. I was on a Fulbright teaching fellowship in Lyon, France. One of my students invited me to Chanukah dinner, but in the story, he invites me for Shabbat dinner. I had thought the student was Muslim, but he was Sephardic. He had a last name that wasn’t a German Russian last name like I was used to. I was a little homesick and thought it would be fun and I would fit in. Their experience of Judaism was so radically different from mine, and I didn’t feel like I was in my family’s home for dinner at all. I realized how different their experience was from mine is, but it was still a shared experience. Everything was foreign, [including] the food and the songs. [Growing up], my biggest Jewish adversity was having to go to Hebrew School on Sundays and not getting to sleep in, while theirs was literally having to hide from the Nazis. Yet, there was still something shared there.

What impact does being Jewish have on you as a writer?
I hope I come from the strong tradition of Jewish writers. I really admire Philip Roth, Saul Bellow, and Cynthia Ozick. With a lot of the stories in my collection—even if they don’t have overtly Jewish content—the characters in my brain are Jewish. Sometimes, the characters are not Jewish, in that they are the exact opposite of Jewish. I’ve also worked on two unpublished novels. One is about Jewish immigrants in Oklahoma in the 1800s, based very loosely on my mother’s family, and the other novel is about a Jewish woman who is a single mother in Chicago, who is coincidentally Jewish. The Oklahoma one is very much about what it means to be a Jewish immigrant and how to develop a relationship with religion when you’re considering assimilation.

What sort of Jewish background do you have?
I don’t feel a strong religious connection, but I feel an incredibly strong ethnic and cultural connection. I’m very glad that I have received a Jewish education, because it is great to have a spiritual background and you can choose to adopt that background or not. But if you don’t have it, you don’t have that choice. What is amazing about Judaism as a religion or ethnicity is that learning about Judaism is learning about history of civilization. Also, it gives you a connection to people all over the world.

Who inspires you in your writing?
I read voraciously, as most writers do, and very quickly. Pretty much when the book is done it’s out of my brain and I’m on to the next one. I’m very influenced by what I happen to be reading at the time. Also, I read a lot of emerging fiction writers, what my contemporaries are writing. I find my friends’ books incredibly inspirational. Most recently, I read Curtis Sittenfeld, who went to [school] with me, and Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum. Occasionally, I’ll discover things for the first time. I discovered Saul Bellow a couple of years ago. It was brilliant and I thought, why didn’t anyone tell me to read this?

What advice do you have for burgeoning writers?
My cynical advice would be to get a degree in accounting. Now, it’s becoming increasingly clear to me that I’m not going to be able to make a living off of writing and I think you need to be lucky to do that.

My other advice is to persevere. You can’t take it as a message from anyone if you get rejected from something. There are so many factors that determine that. It depends on who’s reading it, when they’re reading it, what else is being published at that time. I’ve learned from publishing that some times good books sell, some times bad books sell, some times good books don’t sell, and some times bad books don’t sell.

For more information, visit  www.allisonamend.com .

Rachel, “doing Jewish” in Chicago

A New York native, Rachel Haskell moved to Chicago after spending four years as a Badger at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. After a few months interning with Senator Russ Feingold and a summer in Israel, she began working as a professional Jew for B’nai B’rith International (BBI) as the Midwest Program Coordinator. Through her position, she brings programming from each of the four Centers of B’nai B’rith International (Center for Human Rights and Public Policy, Center for Senior Services, Center for Community Action and Center for Jewish Culture) to the Midwest Region. Look out for their next program, “Drink to your Health,” a panel discussion on affordable access to healthcare.

So whether you love New York, hate needles or wish you could pause time, Rachel Haskell is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
Well in my 1st grade yearbook I said I wanted to be a heart surgeon…ironic seeing as I hate blood, needles and basically anything to do with the medical field.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love working for an organization with such a rich and expansive history. BBI is celebrating its 165th anniversary this year and its reach extends to more then 50 countries. Since the beginning, B’nai B’rith has always been concerned with meeting the needs of the community both globally and locally. We focus on the issues of importance right now; such as Darfur, energy independence and affordable healthcare. It doesn’t hurt getting off for the Jewish Holidays either!

3. What are you reading?
The Zookeepers Wife  by Diane Ackerman; it is about the zookeepers of the Warsaw Zoo during the Holocaust and how they were able to save over 300 Jews from the Nazis. I chose it for this month’s read for a book club I am in with some friends…very typical for me to pick a book relating to something Jewish.

4. What is your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Uncommon Ground! I love the eclectic choices they have as well as the comfortable coffee house setting! I have NEVER been disappointed when I go there.

5. If money and logistics played no part, what would you invent?
I am sure there are a lot of better things I could do with my invention, but right now what I really want is something that will pause time. If you could just stop time every once in a while it would be great…like when you're about to miss the train, or when you just need a break at work. Or maybe I would invent something that makes sure I had a never ending cup of hot coffee without having to do anything, which would be nice also!

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or to be invisible?
Fly! I love to travel and the ability to fly would make it a lot cheaper and more convenient.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod what guilty pleasure would I find?
Billy Joel! It is basically a requirement to be a Billy Joel fan when growing up on Long Island.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago? In other words, how do you Jew?
Well, since I work as a Jewish professional during the day and then spend plenty of my free time volunteering with a Jewish Youth group (BBYO) it is pretty fair to say that much of my life is spent doing Jewish things in Chicago. I guess sometimes it is just the small things like eating pita and hummus for dinner or going to a Shabbat dinner with friends.

Brandeis University Prof. Jonathan D. Sarna sheds some light on the upcoming election

Whether you’re discussing politics on line at Starbucks or surfing headlines online at your desk, you’re sure to encounter the names Barack Obama, John McCain, Joe Biden, and Sarah Palin hundreds of times between now and next Tuesday. But understanding the presidential election in a Jewish context is harder to come by and not something that you can learn about from the mainstream media. In a phone interview in September, Oy!’s Cindy Sher talked to Brandeis University Professor Dr. Jonathan D. Sarna—one of the country’s prominent historians on American Judaism—examines the upcoming election through a Jewish lens. Among the issues he sheds light on are how many Jews typically vote in presidential elections, the selection of Sarah Palin as a running mate, the recent havoc on Wall Street, whether the Jewish vote could help decide the outcome of the election, and why this election is different from all other elections for the Jewish people.

Oy!Chicago: Could the Jewish vote have an impact in this election?
Dr. Jonathan D. Sarna: Every vote has an influence in a close election and because Jews happen to live in states that are clearly crucial to both candidates—so-called swing states like Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Florida—their votes are very important. Everybody knows that the difference of a few votes in Florida determined the election in 2000 and that could happen again...Jews are concentrated within the United States, more than any other groups. Twenty metropolitan areas make up 85 percent of the [American Jewish population]. The largest four Jewish communities, in California, New York, New Jersey, and Florida, have 128 electoral votes and you only need 270 [to win].

How does this election matter differently to American Jews than in the past?
We’ll only know that in retrospect. What does make this an unusual election is that the Democratic candidate is largely unknown to the Jewish community. It’s relatively rare that that happens. Obviously it was true of Jimmy Carter when he became the Democratic candidate. But more frequently, everybody is voting in an election where you have a longer record. This election is unusual, relatively so, because you don’t have an incumbent running on the record nor do we have a vice president running on the president’s record. Only in retrospect will we find out whether it’s a defining election, as some believe, that will bring wholesale change to Washington.

I’ve read that approximately 75 percent of Jews have voted in recent elections, compared with only about half of the general population. Why do Jews vote in such great numbers?
In a good election, you can certainly reach those numbers. In a presidential election, there was even one estimate of 80 percent. Certainly, Jews are considered significant because they turn out in large numbers. Many Jews have stories—including in my own family—of going out and voting. They see voting as a duty, an obligation. You would go to considerable trouble, in the snow or rain, to vote. That is the kind of Jewish value that is passed down from parents to children. I know Jews who come to resemble their neighbors who don’t take voting quite as seriously, but there are still residual memories of how a parent or grandparent did everything possible to get to the voting booth, and believed that nothing was more important and American than exercising the right to vote.

Is the number of Jews who vote dropping, and how does the number of Jewish voters compare with other ethnic groups?
I have read that there’s been a slight drop in Jews who have been going out to vote. Younger Jews are not as likely to vote as their predecessors, but compared to African Americans and Hispanics, Jews have voted off the charts. When one looks across American ethnic and religious groups, Jews participate at a much higher level, and Jews have donated at a high level. One of the questions in this election is whether things will change: Whether African Americans will turn out in high numbers and whether Mr. Obama’s new mode of funding will mean that traditional Jewish donations are less important. All remains to be seen.

Are Jews becoming more politically conservative or is that a misperception? Who are the conservative pockets of the Jewish community?
Traditionally, in elections, Jews have voted around three-quarters for the Democratic Party, but the Republicans are correct in sensing somewhere around 20 percent of the Jewish vote can move either way. There are [a few] groups of Jews who have become clearly more conservative—Orthodox Jews who tend to vote the way Evangelicals vote, sometimes for the same reasons—and their numbers are growing. Russian Jews are the most conservative subgroup within the Jewish community. They had their fill of liberalism and Communism back home and they often like tough-minded conservatives. Some people argue that young Jewish males, especially those who have done well in the economy, are more likely to vote conservative. We’ve also seen a shift of some Jews to the Sun Belt, places like Atlanta, where they are exposed to more conservative views and some would argue that that, too, has pushed some Jews into more conservative politics.

How has the recent turmoil on Wall Street affected the Jewish vote one way or another?
Historically, economic turmoil leads people to vote for the party out of power. In other words, economic turmoil is advantageous to the Democrats. By contrast, a major terrorist incident would tend to lead people to vote for the party in power. We don’t want to switch generals in the midst of war. A major terrorist incident would benefit the Republicans, but all of the economic horrors of the moment definitely benefit the Democrats.

To what extent are Jews one-issue voters?
It depends which Jews you are talking about. Clearly, for example, Reform Jews are the most liberal Democratic group of the major Jewish movements within the Jewish community. Social issues, generally, are enormously important to them including church-state issues, the Supreme Court, and so on. Israel is on the list, but is not top of the list. For some Orthodox voters, and for Jews who have close relatives in Israel, Israel may well be for those Jews what abortion is for the religious Catholics—a kind of litmus test.

Would Obama and McCain be equally ‘good’ for Israel?
The support for Israel in the United States has much less to do with Jews than most people imagine. It has a great deal to do with overall American support for Israel, which goes back to before the state was born. It especially has to do with Evangelical support for Israel. The Evangelicals are many times larger than the Jews and many Evangelicals believe not just that Israel is central to the Second Coming as they understand it, but that Israel’s presence in disputed areas is likewise essential to the fulfillment of their Dispensationalist view of the world, although that would be less important to Mr. Obama than Mr. McCain.

How has McCain’s selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate changed the landscape of the election for the Jewish people?
Sarah Palin represents elements of the Republican Party that Jews are least sympathetic with—a strict sense of populism, guns, hunting, and small towns. These are not symbols that Jews resonate with nor are they sympathetic to her political views. When it comes to foreign policy, she has no record at all. She’s hardly been out of the country. Whereas a McCain/Lieberman ticket might have brought in Jewish voters, and might have led Jews, say in Florida, to think harder about the Republican ticket, [some Republicans] have been forthright about expressing doubts about Sarah Palin. That echoes Jewish thinking, although that doesn’t mean she is anti-Jewish. There were some forces in Alaska that said nice things about her, but there is not much of a record. My sense is that she was brought in so that a different part of the Republic Party would vote for this ticket—a part that Jews have not traditionally had much sympathy with.

What have recent polls indicated in terms of whom Jews will vote for in this election?
The last poll that I saw was prior to the conventions. The bad news for Obama was that he was at 60 percent of the Jewish vote. Historically, Democrats who can’t crack about 75 percent of the Jewish vote don’t win. No Democrat has been elected since 1928—in 80 years—who has failed to win 75 percent of the Jewish vote. Democrats who have not achieved 75 percent of the Jewish vote are Adlai Stevenson, George McGovern, Walter Mondale, Michael Dukakis, and Jimmy Carter (in the 1980 campaign for his second term), and not one of them won.

Every single Democratic presidential candidate since 1928 with one exception has received more than 60 percent of the Jewish vote. The one exception was Jimmy Carter in 1980, but he didn’t win. The fact that Obama was down at 60 percent was very bad for him. There is a lot of time before the election and I tend to think that number may change. When Jews are uncertain about whom to vote for, their reflexes tend to lead them toward the Democratic Party. Considering the current financial situation as well as great dissatisfaction with Washington, the default for Jews and a lot of other people will be to vote against the party in power.

At the end of the day, the majority of American Jews this November will almost unquestionably vote for the Democratic ticket as they always have done. The question is how large that majority will be and the answer to that question may, if the election is close, decide the presidential election. That’s why every vote is important.

Dr. Jonathan D. Sarna is the Joseph H. and Belle R. Braun Professor of American Jewish History in the department of Near Eastern and Judaic Studies at Brandeis University and the director of the Hornstein Program in Jewish Professional Leadership. He is the author of a new book entitled A Time to Every Purpose: Letters to a Young Jew , (Basic Books), in which he reflects on identity, family, and the American Jewish experience.

Jewish-themed documentary Milton Glaser: To Inform and Delight, playing at the film festival

The number one movie at the box office last week starred a talking dog.

If you’re looking for something a little more…human…starring talking people from around the world, check out The 44th Chicago International Film Festival, playing in the Windy City from Thurs., Oct. 16- Wed., Oct. 29. This year’s festival, presented by Cinema/Chicago, features special appearances by international actors and directors along with a line up of more than 175 films total—116 feature films, 38 short films and 18 documentaries from around the globe.

Jesse Berkowitz, a Chicago transplant from Los Angeles, has always been a movie fan, and now he’s translated that love for movies into a career with Cinema/Chicago, which presents the festival. He is responsible for coordinating and scheduling the documentary and short subject films for the festival.

Berkowitz, who is half-Jewish, discusses why his chosen film genres appeal to him. “Documentaries are an art form that comes from something that’s raw and real. There are really interesting ways to make raw footage into feature films. I also like films that deal with real-world issues directly,” says Berkowitz. “What I like most about short films is the simplicity of them. The best short films are the ones that convey a message without muddling too many themes and factors.”

In selecting films for the festival, he strives to look for movies that will appeal to Chicago audiences, and he looks for a balance between films created by established masters in film and new filmmakers on the scene.



Jesse Berkowitz, documentary and short subject film maven

The film festival kicks off this year with  The Brothers Bloom , a comedy about the last great adventure of the world’s best conmen. The film is directed by Rian Johnson and starring Oscar-winner Rachel Weisz (The Constant Gardener), Oscar-winner Adrien Brody (The Pianist), Mark Ruffalo (Zodiac), and Oscar nominee Rinko Kikuchi (Babel) and features a red carpet arrival, on Thurs., Oct. 16 at the Harris Theater in Chicago.

One Israeli film plays in this year’s festival.  Lemon Tree/Etz Limon  (Israel/France/Germany), directed by Eran Riklis, a dramatic true story, uses the lemon grove as a metaphor to illustrate the Israeli/Palestinians conflict. Israel’s newly elected defense minister declares Palestinian widow Salma’s lemon trees, straddling the Israel/West Bank Border, as a haven for terrorist infiltration that must be chopped down. She must rely on unlikely allies, including the defense minister’s wife, to help save the trees. The film is in Arabic and Hebrew with English subtitles.

The film festival’s  Milton Glaser: To Inform and Delight , (USA), a documentary directed by Wendy Kay, also has a Jewish theme. The movie tells the story of the famed Jewish cofounder of New York Magazine and artist, Milton Glaser, who has revolutionized the world of design.

Other festival highlights will include honoring the Oscar-winning director Mike Leigh with a Career Achievement Award before the screening of his film  Happy-Go-Lucky  and honoring Oscar-winner Sidney Poitier with a Lifetime Achievement Award at the annual Black Perspectives Tribute and Reception.

This year, the festival also launches “Green Screen,” an initiative presenting movies that illuminate pressing environmental issues. The program works with environmental groups throughout Chicago to promote the films and to raise environmental awareness.

After watching seven hours of documentary and short subject films a day, sometimes Berkowitz wants to lose himself in an action flick. Other times, he prefers a more compelling movie-going experience and hopes others will too. “It’s important for people to challenge themselves to enjoy a certain type of cinema that they might not normally consider,” he said. “It’s always fun to discover a genre that you really love. Our festival provides our audiences an opportunity to do that.”

Most of the films from this year’s film festival will be presented in downtown Chicago at AMC River East 21 and AMC 600 N. Michigan, while a few films will play at the Music Box Theater in Lakeview and the opening and closing nights will take place at the Harris Theater in Chicago. For film festival passes and tickets, visit  www.chicagofilmfestival.com or  www.ticketmaster.com or by calling (312) 902-1500. For more festival information, call (312) 332-FILM or visit  www.chicagofilmfestival.com .

Kim and Scott Holstein, twisting their love for pretzels--and each other--into a beautiful partnership 

It is a classic love story with a twist. Kim and Scott Holstein met at a Richard Bach book signing in 1994. Kim was obsessed with pretzels. Scott was obsessed with Kim. The following year, they launched a gourmet pretzel empire out of their Lincoln Park studio apartment. Kim and Scott have since upgraded to a 25,000 square-foot factory west of the Loop and added three kids to the mix, but the key ingredients haven’t changed – a passion for pretzels and for each other.

If you are in the mood for a handmade pretzel stuffed with spinach and feta or with chocolate, visit Kim and Scott’s Twisting Café at the Kohl Children’s Museum, tune into QVC, check out their website, or stop by coffee shops and grocery stores across the country. Through Pretzels for Peace and other creative philanthropic initiatives, Kim and Scott plant trees, feed the hungry, empower kids and fight breast cancer.

So, whether you crave omelet pretzels in the morning, think poodles and golden retrievers should mate more often, or pray at the greenest synagogue in town, Kim and Scott Holstein are Jews You Should Know.

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
Kim: Weather woman, Today Show anchorwoman, and rabbi
Scott: Astronaut and Vet

2. What do you love about what you do today?
Kim: So much! I’m crazy about pretzels and coming up with new flavors and products. I’m passionate about children’s health and developing healthy grab and go products for kids. Having three kids of our own and a café inside a children’s museum is a demonstration of how our lives and passions are twisted together – like a pretzel.

3. What are you reading?
Kim:  I love to read lots of books at once. Right now, I’m reading The Answer is Simple by Sonia Choquette, one of my favorite writers and mentors. I’m also reading  Meatball Sundae  by Seth Godin, a book about marketing and its transformation in the age of the internet, and  Ellen Tebbits  by Beverly Cleary for a book group I am in with my 8-year-old daughter, Sonia.
Scott:   The Omnivore’s Dilemma  by Michael Pollan and  Marley and Me  by John Grogan. We have a new golden doodle.

4. What is your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Kim: I have to honestly say that I’m a huge fan of our Twisting Café at the Kohl Children’s Museum. With a healthy menu of pretzel sandwiches and salads, I can’t get enough of it. I also love Blind Faith Café in Evanston. Their vegan chocolate cake is the ultimate!

5. If money and logistics played no part, what would you invent?
Kim: A single ingredient that cures cancer, grows more wheat to feed the hungry (and has ultra-powerful vitamins for nutrition), and ironically can also be diluted and used as a fuel alternative.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or to be invisible?
Kim: Invisible. You can always fly in a plane, but to be invisible could be a valuable ability.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod what guilty pleasure would I find?
Kim:  I love meditation and songs for yoga, peace, relaxation and reflection, so you’d find a ton of these kinds of songs and guided meditations. I also have my classic favorite songs from Peter Gabriel, Elton John and 10,000 Maniacs.
Scott:  Last season's 30 Rock  -- the best sitcom!

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago? In other words, how do you Jew?
Kim: We belong to Jewish Reconstructionist Congregation in Evanston. It’s an incredible community, filled with activities and services that are meaningful and spiritual--a place where we feel connected to Judaism at many levels. For the past two years we have gone on the synagogue family retreat and had a blast together. Also, we enjoy Shabbat every Friday night and Jewish holidays, whether it’s with other families, or just our gang.

Stefanie, realizing the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree

Growing up, I didn’t really think anything of the way my socks were put away, each pair bundled together into a perfect ball, arranged in rainbow order (yes, people wore colored socks back then) in my top drawer. In my closet, clothes were arranged by season and color and every hanger and seam faced the same direction. My mom did laundry (several loads) every night and putting the clothes back into the drawers sometimes took five tries to get the folding just right. The cleaning lady came once a week and my mom cleaned thoroughly both before and after her visits. The house was always spotless. We never ate Cheetos and got wiped down with paper towels after every meal. I learned never to spill.

Then I got older.

Suddenly, it became incredibly irritating that I couldn’t just leave a single pair of jeans out over night (I was just going to put them back on in the morning) and that I had to make my bed every morning (I was just going to get back into it that night). And that even after putting everything away, having been told repeatedly, my mom would still come in and refold the jeans and remake the bed herself—I could never (and would never) get it just right.

In college, my roommates knew that my parents coming to visit meant it was time for some serious cleaning. We scrubbed and scrubbed until we thought our apartment was spotless. But when my mom arrived, cleaning supplies in hand, without fail it was never clean enough.

My mom isn’t trying to drive me crazy—and she doesn’t really want to refold my jeans any more than I want her to. My mom comes by her OCD honestly. It’s there with her, through every single moment of every single day, and though it sometimes gets the best of her, I admire her strength in fighting through her urges and not letting them rule her life.

I wasn’t always so sympathetic. I’ll admit that growing up, I just didn’t quite get what my mom was going through. Instead of being understanding and considerate, I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked G-d for sparing me my mother’s obsessive compulsiveness and allowing me to be the laid back person I was. As far as I could tell, I was as easy going and relaxed as they come. I could travel with ease, not even school stressed me out and while I was no slob (I had been trained very well), I was totally cool with leaving a pair of jeans out overnight.

These days I have a much better understanding of what my mom is going through—thought I never really wanted to understand quite so well.

I entered the “real world” and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

You know how a bar or bat mitzvah is supposed to mark the Jewish coming-of-age when a young Jew must start taking on responsibilities for herself? I think this occasion should actually be marked about eight years later when she has to get a job, moves out and the real responsibilities kick in—we could call it the Jewish coming-of-neuroses.

As much as I tried to fight it, the older I got and the more stressful life became, I felt aspects of my mom’s disorder starting to creep out. It started with some minor anxiety and stomachaches, and then, one day I found myself scrubbing my bathroom shower for over an hour thinking that I just couldn’t get the tub white enough. I realized I had a little more than just a few bad cases of the nerves.

No, I do not arrange my socks in color order, and it’s entirely possible that the clothes in my closet are not all facing the same direction, but I am definitely guilty of some obsessive-compulsive behavior, and often times my anxiety gets the best of me.

This is something I struggle with every day, battling the anxieties in my head, never knowing what will set me off or when. I am learning to take on each new challenge as it comes, and to never let my neuroses stop me from living my life.

We all know the stereotype of the Jew as neurotic, as portrayed by Jewish mothers everywhere and Woody Allen, and this one, I’m afraid, isn’t too far from the truth. I think we all know someone who is a little neurotic, or nervous, or obsessive about something—everyone has their shtick. How could we not, with a religion that tells us to question everything, repeat this line three times and wash our hands before every meal?

But whether my tendency toward OCD is dictated by my religion, my genetics or too many Woody Allen movies doesn’t matter much. What matters is how I’m going to choose to deal with it going forward--whether I can get myself out of the bathtub scrubbing frenzy and move on with my day.

I know that the stress of grown-up life will never fully go away. So in the meantime, I plan to take lots of deep breaths, sign up for a yoga class and get through one day at a time. Luckily, I have someone close to me who has been through it all, to help me push through and keep things in perspective.

Yael Naim, constantly happy

Yael Naim isn’t upset about being known as, “the chick that sings the song in the Apple commercial.” Instead, the Israeli-raised, Paris-dwelling singer/songwriter is grateful. “You can’t be unhappy if people know only one song, I’m so happy and I’m thankful for every good thing that has happened,” Naim says.

And lots of good things have happened to her since the song, “New Soul,” popped up in the ad last January. I called Naim in her Paris apartment 10 days before she set off on her US tour—which includes an October 23 stop at Chicago’s House of Blues.

“One week after the commercial first played, we were number one in single downloads in the US. But the album was in the top five, so we could see that people were also curious about the rest of the songs too,” she says.

It’s hard to pinpoint what exactly hits people about “New Soul,” but I have seen it happen dozens of times myself: The MacBook Air commercial comes on, the noise in the room drops and people listen. Some describe it as “haunting,” but to me, “New Soul” sounds more like light on water—joyful, pretty and simple.

An Israeli in Paris

When she started writing the songs that would become the album Yael Naim & David Donatien, Naim was homesick, fighting through a transitional period, and the down tempo feel of most of the album reflects this mood. But “New Soul” is different. “All of these other songs on the album were written in a melancholy period, only “New Soul” was written while David [David Donatien music partner and co-collaborator on Naim’s album] and I were working on the album—and that was such a happy period,” she says.

“New Soul,” Naim says, is about looking back at that darker time. “Before, I thought I was an old soul and that I knew life. But [having come through adjusting to my new life in Paris] I realized that I don’t know much about life and it’s probably my first time on earth, so I am a new soul. I have realized that nothing has to be so perfect—it’s okay to have a lot to learn.”

And while it may seem that Naim came out of nowhere, the 30-year-old artist has been learning about music and life since she was a child in Israel.

As a high school student in Tel Aviv, Naim went to see jazz great Wynton Marsalis at a club the city. She found a fan in a saxophone player from Marsalis’ orchestra and every time he appeared at the club, he brought her up to sing jazz standards.

After high school, she continued her career as a soloist in an air force musical troupe in the Israeli Defense Forces. During that two-year stint, she performed a few benefit concerts in Paris and was discovered by a French producer. In 2001, EMI released her first record, In a Man’s Womb. The album didn’t sell and Naim, filled with doubt, was lonely in Paris, removed from her life in Israel, her family and her then boyfriend.

It was that homesickness that inspired her to begin writing in Hebrew and ultimately led to her current success. “It was only when I was in Paris that I missed home and felt the need to reconnect with Israel; I found myself writing in Hebrew for the first time. It’s a very intimate language,” Naim says. “Paris,” the first song on the album is sung in Hebrew—a purely artistic decision. She assumed, because of the disappointing results of her first record, it would only be heard by an intimate group.

Yael Naim’s Sweet, Happy Life

One of the first people to hear that song, as well as about 200 others she’d been working on, was West Indian drummer, David Donatien. The two started playing together and he encouraged her to continue writing in Hebrew. “I wasn’t thinking about [whether Hebrew songs would appeal to a French audience] because I never thought the song would be in an album and then, even while working on the album, we didn’t think it would be released in Paris. We had something to say and didn’t think about whether it would work, to tell you the truth. David and I recorded the music as we liked without compromise to connect to people,” Naim says.

Yael and David bringing music to the masses

She describes the time working on the album as, “three and a half years of constant happiness.” She and Donatien would get started playing and recording around 11 am every day and then, in the evening, friends—musicians and artists mostly—would drop in and out of her house, she’d make something to eat and they’d talk about music. “It was an amazing time and a dream come true because I could be at home with friends and music all day.”

This fun, bohemian atmosphere comes to life in the video for “New Soul,” which reflects the blissful time she experienced making her album. “My experience with my first album made me not expect anything. Usually you have huge expectations or you’re worried about money or pleasing a music company and so you don’t always follow your heart,” she says.

Despite her success with this album, Naim says that she will not let the pressure to be commercially successful creep back in when she and Donatien, who she is quick to say deserves as much credit for the album’s success as she does, finally get the chance to get back to recording new music next January.

“I see that taking the time and doing what you love really works. It was a great lesson not to think too much. I know that life is sometimes up and sometimes down so even if the next album isn’t a huge success, it’ll be okay,” she says.

See Yael and David perform live October 23rd at The House of Blues—and get discounted tickets from Club 1948!

Joey, in action

Joey’s Brickhouse
1258 W. Belmont
773.296.1300

When I called Chef Joey Morelli to see if I could interview him for this article, the first thing he did was propose. Upon discovering that he had gone to high school with a cousin of mine, and that the last name we share is my maiden name, his response was an enthusiastic “You’re single? Awesome! Now we can get married!”  For the record, having been to Joey’s Brickhouse on more than one occasion, usually for a pre-theater bite or a post-theater cocktail, always delightful, I was tempted to say yes.

Okay, for the record, it was more than the food—considering the last three blind dates I’ve been on, I was tempted to say yes and show up for the interview with a rabbi in tow. But I digress.

This enthusiasm for life is apparent in all aspects of Joey Morelli’s personality, and is at the heart of what makes his place such a success, and what keeps people coming back.

Joey was born in Chicago in 1970, son of an Italian father and a Jewish mother, and was raised in Highland Park. If ever there were two cultures that are opposite sides of the same coin, Joey thinks that Italian and Jewish are it. As he likes to say, both are steeped in traditions of family, food and bickering. His palate was trained early, some of his fondest memories of being at his grandmother’s elbow in the kitchen. He jokingly refers to visits with family being about “Having eight meals before you get to go home.” The Jewish holidays in his home were mostly secular, centered again on culinary traditions. The blending of the two traditions included decorating the Christmas tree one year with bagels and bialys as ornaments and a Star of David on top.

At home, in a twist that Joey recalls fondly, his dad was the one who made breakfast every day for the family, beautiful omelets and frittatas, and it was these recipes that Joey remembers as being his first forays into trying his own hand at cooking.

While a student at Highland Park High School, Joey worked at Beinlich’s, the HP staple Sunset Foods and as a dishwasher at JB Winberie’s. After completing a degree in Speech Communication and Restaurant Management at University of Illinois, Joey attended Kendall College Culinary School, and did internships at local fine-dining restaurants before leaving Chicago for Arizona, where he worked at the Arizona Biltmore. A couple more jobs, another move, this time to California, where fate stepped in, in the guise of two hot tamales.

No, we aren’t back to exploring dating information. THE Two Hot Tamales, Mary Sue Milligan and Susan Feninger, of Border Grill fame, hired Joey as sous chef, where eventually he assisted them in opening a new restaurant. With excellent experience under his belt, he moved to NYC, where he took on his first Executive Chef position at Citrus and learned exactly what it means to run a restaurant in a major city. When he realized that if he was going to work so hard, he’d rather be doing for himself, he came home to Chicago, and in 2004, opened Joey’s Brickhouse.

The initial prospects were scary. The space was too big, it needed a total gut rehab, and it didn’t at all match the image in Joey’s head of what he wanted his first restaurant to be.  But he realized that the neighborhood was ripe for a fun, casual dining establishment, and that with some serious elbow grease, he could make it work. He also knew that the kitchen could be designed with one of his other dreams in mind, that of creating a home delivery service providing healthy prepared meals.

He credits Seattle Sutton with having “a great basic idea, with really bad food--glorified airline food” and is waiting for the phone call from her company to hire him to revamp their offerings. Joey knows that healthy eating is tough, whether for weight loss or just for having decent meals when you have a busy lifestyle, and his goal is to provide top quality and top taste. The development of these innovative and delicious weekly menus is one of the most exciting things he does, and he has over 300 of them in his back pocket to prove it. The kitchen works on the delivery service items during the day, and handles the restaurant business at night, and Joey oversees all of it.

“It’s exhausting, I would never recommend it, I would never tell anyone to live like I live…you have to have a life, you have to have a vacation now and again…DON’T BE LIKE ME!”



Joey Morelli is one animated character

Joey might be emphatic in his belief that he is probably doing it wrong, sacrificing too much, burning the candle at both ends—and at a couple places in the middle--but he says it with a little too much relish. This is a man who is passionate about everything he does, and it shows. In addition to his life at the restaurant, where you are likely to find his Mom playing hostess, or brother Greg delivering your drink, he and the family also indulge their boisterous sides every Saturday from 12-2 on AM 820, on their weekly radio show, Family Values With An Oy Vey! It’s mostly political but just about any topic might come into play on a given day. Ask about the new increase in city tax at restaurants to 10.25% and you’ll get an earful about the current administration not helping the small business owners during a tough economy. Tune into the show and you might catch Mom calling in, or Dad storming out…it is clear where Joey gets his passionate nature.

Those passions are serving him well. Joey brings a fine-dining sensibility to a casual dining restaurant, focusing on fresh ingredients, making everything from scratch, and providing it at prices that make for an affordable meal out.

The menu at JB is eclectic. Comfort food from many different regions abounds, classic Italian dishes, BBQ, burgers, Jewish favorites, even Asian influences are at play here, and with such an expansive menu, one wonders if someone can do everything well, or if the food might not suffer from an identity crisis. While I had eaten here a few times, I decided for this meal, to take with me someone who knows a lot about needing good, hearty food at reasonable prices, my very good friend Kevin, who is a Chicago Police Officer. Kevin frequently tells me about the kind of foods he and the guys on his team tend to grab when they are working, or pick up at the end of a long day, and I think just about every item on the JB menu has been mentioned at least once, so I figured he would be just the kind of expert to take with me.

We bypassed the 16 different flavors of Long Island Iced Tea in favor of beer, opting for the He’Brew- The Chosen Beer, which, though we picked it for kitsch value, was actually a pretty good beer. We started with calamari, which has become ubiquitous on menus, often with disastrous rubbery results. But here, it is transcendent, the squid perfectly cooked and tender, the batter light and crispy, with a balanced sauce that enhances the bites without overpowering the delicate fish. We paired it with the Morelli Salad, a basic chopped salad, unpretentious and generously portioned, with crisp radish, cucumber, and other vegetables, dressed with a blissfully light hand.

Joey’s take on lasagna, the Meatball Casserole, is a monstrously good plate, house-made sheets of pasta as thin as paper, layered with sliced meatballs, creamy cheese, and tomato sauce. The portion is enormous, and you will find yourself struggling to decide whether it is better to keep eating, or to try and save some to take home. You’ll probably keep eating, and there is no shame in ordering a second portion to go, since I guarantee you’ll crave it come lunchtime the next day. Equally successful are the ribs, tender meat falling off the bone, with a Napa cabbage slaw providing the right tart crunch to balance the sweet meat. Order extra sauce on the side and give up any thoughts of staying tidy. On the other side of the coin, the tilapia special, flaky fish with a light coconut crust was served on top of delicious vegetable fried rice, a total surprise and not an unwelcome one. We couldn’t bring ourselves to order the stuffed burger, afraid of the sheer size of the thing, but patrons around us were groaning in delight as theirs slowly disappeared…a huge one-pound behemoth, stuffed with your choice of up to three items, it is a gimmicky idea, but based on the response of the people around us, a gimmick that works. The one guy nearby who ordered his stuffed with bacon, bbq sauce, and onions seemed ready to expire with delight, and the pizza also got good reviews from the diners in earshot. While we were stuffed to the gills, in my family, there is always room in the dessert compartment, and the homemade key lime pie hit the perfect note, well made graham crust with hints of cinnamon, tender and not dry, sweet/tart creamy filling which was heady with fresh lime juice, and real whipped cream to bring it full circle.

I’ve never been for brunch, but I have many friends who rely on the $12 all you can eat Saturday brunch with $1 drinks to help them repair the damage they do to themselves on Friday night, and I hear the matzo brei is fantastic.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that we liked the food at Joey’s Brickhouse as much as we did. Nor was it a surprise that I like Joey as much as I do. When you have the perfect intersection of passion, training, and commitment to quality, with a decent sense of humor on top, you’re hard pressed to go wrong on either count. We might not actually be getting married, but if he’s cooking, I’m definitely coming for dinner.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey

www.staceyballis.com

NOSH of the week: Does your garden overflow? I have a black thumb myself, and true greenies will know what I mean when I say that I killed mint. MINT! (And don’t even ask about the fake fichus that lost all its leaves…I killed silk and plastic!)  But every year at this time I find myself the happy recipient of the overflow from those of you who have dirt skills, and developed this recipe to deal with that famously overabundant fruit, the tomato. If you aren’t growing them yourself, hit up your local farmer’s market (check out the Zed451 NOSH for a list of good ones) and get cooking.

STACEY'S ROASTY TOMATO SOUP

Can be served hot or cold and can easily be turned into a million other recipes. Approx 4 lbs. tomatoes - I use a mix of plum and cherry for depth of flavor, but use whatever your garden grown…it is only essential they be fresh and ripe.

1 medium sweet onion or 4 large shallots, diced
2 T Herbs de Provence
¼ c Olive Oil
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 250 degrees.

Cut tomatoes in half lengthwise, toss in olive oil to coat, and arrange cut side down on oiled sheet pans. Add onion or shallot on top of the tomatoes. Sprinkle with the herbs and liberal salt and pepper. Roast approx 1.5 to 2 hours until skins are loose and the flesh is soft. Peel skins off tomatoes and discard. Dump the contents of the sheet pans into a large bowl. Using an immersion blender, blend into chunky soup. (frankly you can also do this with a potato masher, since the tomatoes are so tender)  Adjust seasonings to taste.

I serve either warm or cold with a dollop of crème fraiche or sour cream and some chopped fresh mint for grown-ups. Add alphabet noodles or cooked rice for kids. Stir in toasted croutons and drizzle with olive oil and parmesan for a classic Pappa al Pomodoro. Add fresh basil and garlic and you have a chunky pasta sauce. Add dried oregano and red pepper flakes and it becomes pizza sauce. Freezes beautifully, can be canned if you are ambitious, and lasts up to two weeks in fridge.

NOSH food read of the week:  The Art of Eating  by M.F.K. Fisher

Kimber,  keeping your Bubbe’s Yiddish music alive 

Kimber Leigh Nussbaum, vocalist with The Maxwell Street Klezmer Band, hails from Kansas City, but has lived in Chicago for more than a decade. The University of Illinois grad earned her BFA in Theater and has performed in venues all over Chicago as well as Kansas City.

This year, The Maxwell Street Klezmer Band celebrates its 25th anniversary with the release of Eight Nights of Joy, a Chanukah album featuring Rabbi Joe Black. You also can hear Kimber live at her cabaret show at the Skokie Theatre on Sunday, November 16 at 2:00 p.m.

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I always wanted to be a performer... specifically, I wanted to be a cross between Ann-Margret and Chita Rivera. And at one point in my post-college-graduation-life, I wanted to move to Nashville, sing country and be a “Jewish Reba McEntire.”

2. What do you love about what you do today?
When I perform, I help to honor and keep alive beloved Yiddish music. When audience members approach me with stories of wonderful memories of this music from their parents and grandparents from back in “the Old Country,” I know I have done my job and have done it well. A woman once told me she had no idea what the title was of a song (or even how she knew it) that I had just sung. However, she said that as I was singing it, she sang along and found herself knowing every single lyric. She assumes that it must’ve been something her Bubbe used to sing to her as a little girl.

3. What are you reading?
The Evolution of Useful Things  by Henry Petroski, about the history and development of items that we all use every day but never think about how we have come to obtain them.  I just finished  Schott’s Original Miscellany  and  Schott’s Food and Drink Miscellany . Light reads but enjoyable.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I am a big fan of sushi... so anywhere fresh fish can be found. If we are talking Jewish/Israeli food... how about a big bowl of Mish Mash soup from The Bagel or Chatzilim (eggplant) from Taboun.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
Automatic “free money” tellers so no one would have to beg for money for food for themselves or their children. They would simply withdraw some cash and head to their favorite restaurant. I am still working out how to make sure everyone gets a fair amount per day so there is enough to go around.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
I would choose to fly. I don't remember my dreams too often, however the ones I do remember usually include me flying. Sometimes these dreams are so intense, my body physically feels like it is truly flying. So freeing!!!

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
I have quite an eclectic mix... everything from Klezmer to Madonna and show tunes to the Rolling Stones. My ultimate guilty pleasure is “Secret Agent Man” by Johnny Rivers or “It’s Not Unusual” by Tom Jones.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
My favorite thing “to Jew” is to perform with Maxwell Street Klezmer Band and to share Klezmer and Yiddish music with Chicago. The music touches everyone in a lovely and special manner... for Jews AND non-Jews alike!

Author Leslie Goldman 

In a Chicago gym locker room, a little girl, maybe three years old, climbs aboard a giant scale.

To her, the newly discovered apparatus is a toy with no other purpose than fun. She jumps up and down gleefully and calls for her mother to come witness her game. Her mother exclaims, “That’s great, honey,” and lifts her daughter off the scale and steps onto it herself. Immediately, the mother’s demeanor changes, she frowns, and drops her head down. Then, she gets off the scale and her daughter climbs back on it, this time imitating her mother’s actions, dour face and all.

This scene and others like it were observed by Leslie Goldman, an avid exerciser who has logged many hours in her gym, in her gym’s locker room and even on that scale. “I would hear women making horrible comments about their bodies in the locker room, complaining to each other, looking in the mirror, and squeezing their thighs and butts,” she says. “I would see them get on that giant scale and you could just tell that number was ruining their day.”

Goldman—who has always been interested in body image issues and who, years ago, struggled with her own eating disorder—would jot down her locker room observations into a diary. Eventually, her research grew and she would come to spend five years interviewing hundreds of women in gym locker rooms about their bodies and body image, compiled in  Locker Room Diaries .

The author will speak at the Chicago Brain Power for Girl Power Think Tank, sponsored by Jewish Women International, at the Spertus Institute in Chicago on Wednesday, Oct. 29, a new program that brings together 50 Jewish women to learn about and debate issues that affect Jewish girls.

A Buffalo Grove native who now resides in Roscoe Village, Goldman discovered that many women are unsatisfied with their bodies. Her findings are no surprise to any woman who has been to a gym or to any man who as been asked the dreaded question: Does this make me look fat? Just look at any magazine or website and you’ll see ads for diet and weight loss products.

“It seemed like everyone has something that they wish was bigger or smaller or tighter or taller,” she says, “and it’s very rare to find the woman that is so happy and accepting of her body as is, and that doesn’t bode well.”

It doesn’t bode well at all. In fact, poor self-body image often develops into eating disorders—the third-most frequent chronic illness among teenage girls according to Goldman—which, she says, occur because of a mix of genetic and environmental factors. There are approximately 8 million cases of diagnosed eating disorders in the nation, with the highest fatality rate of any psychiatric illness, according to the author. And the statistics only represent the diagnosed cases. Many more people suffer from “disordered eating,” where they will skip occasional meals or pop a laxative every now and then if they’re feeling fat.

Jews, particularly Jewish women and girls, are certainly not immune to body image issues and eating disorders. Goldman is one such Jewish woman who developed an eating disorder—anorexia—during a time of transition, her freshman year of college. She was a straight-A perfectionist who had just gone off to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where she was majoring in nutritional sciences, a common major for someone with eating issues, according to the author.

“I developed an eating disorder as a way to assert control over a seemingly out-of-control situation,” she says. “I was at a phenomenal school and felt a little unsure of myself and lost. Counting calories and monitoring what you eat is a great diversionary tactic so you don’t have to think about the deeper problems on your mind.”

Goldman dropped 30 pounds her first semester of college. When she returned home for Thanksgiving, her parents were frightened by her drastic weight loss and took her to a therapist.

During another break from school, she recalls visiting her grandmother’s house and refusing her grandma’s homemade matzoh ball soup, which she had always loved in the past, after discovering the soup’s fat content. Her grandma was crushed. “In Jewish life, there’s a lot of joy to be had in sitting around the table with your family and celebrating and reminiscing over food,” says Goldman, “but it can be very oppressive at times for [people with body image issues].”

Goldman struggled with anorexia throughout college and suffered a couple of relapses, including her senior year of school, during another big time of transition, when she was living in a house off-campus with seven women, six of whom had an eating disorder, and five of whom were Jewish. Finally, after college, she took her recovery more seriously and conquered her illness.

Goldman refers to her story as a “cliché, textbook” case of the type of Jewish girl who developed an eating disorder. Like her, young women with eating disorders often are often driven, straight-A students wanting to help everyone else before they help themselves.

Goldman believes that many environmental factors make Jewish women and girls susceptible to eating disorders, as was the case for her.

She sees that some Jews come from middle to upper socioeconomic strata, affording them more access to gyms, low-fat pricier foods, fashion magazines with skinny models, and vacations where one wears a bathing suit in front of others.

Plus, at the same time, many Jewish families have high expectations of their children, according to Goldman. “Many Jewish families put a lot of emphasis on education and striving to achieve and giving back and being the best person you can possibly be, which are all wonderful things,” says Goldman. “But these concepts are also a lot for a person to handle, especially a young girl trying to figure out who she is.”

Finally, at times, there aren’t always firm boundaries in Jewish families between children and their parents, says the author. “That doesn’t leave a young woman going off to college in a very good position in terms of who she is on her own when she is away from her family,” she says.



Today, in addition to being an author who tours college campuses and other venues with her book, a healthy Goldman writes for women’s magazines like Health and Women’s Health and blogs about body image, nutrition, fitness, and feminism for iVillage at The Weighting Game.

Despite triumphing over her illness and even lecturing on the topic, she still sometimes battles the less-assured version of herself. “I have good days and bad, and now the good days far outnumber the bad days. But even though I’m a body image writer, I still [sometimes] ask my husband, ‘Does my butt look big in these pants?’”

Goldman fights her impulses to make comments like that because as she and her husband think about starting a family one day, she is striving to pass down a healthy body perception to her children. She worries when she hears reports from her mother, a preschool teacher at a Jewish suburban Chicago school, of three-year-old girls rejecting their juice and challah because they claim they’re on diets.

The author says Jewish parents can take these steps to help promote a healthy self-body image to their children. First, parents need to make smart choices about the types of media, namely television and magazines, they allow into their homes. Some magazines feature “gaunt, emaciated models,” while others display healthier women with more meat on their bones—but all magazines, she adds, digitally manipulate and airbrush their models.

Also, parents should watch their words and actions around their children. Mothers, she says, ought to be careful about looking at their reflections in the mirror and making a disgusted face or going to the grocery store and picking up food only to declare it “too fattening” and putting it back.

Goldman hopes parents will transmit positive messages to their children, less about superficial beauty and more about what’s on the inside. “Send a really strong message about loving yourself for more than your body and praise our little girls for more than being pretty and cute,” says Goldman. “Don’t save the references about being strong for just the boys. Tell the girls they’re strong and smart and compliment them when they open the door for someone.”

As for that giant scale in her gym locker room? Goldman says she rarely steps onto it anymore. In fact, she rarely weighs herself at all, only about once a year. And not being tied to that number on the scale is a weight off her back. “I feel happy walking down the street not knowing that number,” a feeling of contentment she hopes to one day pass along to her children.

Our new dining room table place settings, the 'study session' series, complete with law school mug

Nothing could prepare me for last year: living with a 1L. For those not familiar with the term 1L, lucky you. You have never had the pleasure of being the partner of a first year law student. Yep, my partner is studying to be a partner. (That is definitely going to get confusing.)

When Mandi started at Northwestern Law last year, I was completely unprepared for how her return to school would impact my life. A life that once included spontaneous dates in the middle of the week, leisurely brunch and long walks on the weekends, and frequent rides to work since her social work job took her all over the city.

So I spent the entire first semester lying on the couch waiting for Mandi to be done studying for the night so we could hang out. I caught up on bad TV, ate cereal for dinner and got tired of waiting around. I finally got my ass off the couch and started making plans with friends for cocktails, shopping and craft projects. It took me a full semester to get used to it, but begrudgingly I did. To be fair, it also took Mandi awhile to get used to the endless reading, intense class schedule, more reading, writing, researching, volunteering and more reading.

She made new friends who I got to meet when they came over for study sessions. Eavesdropping on these sessions was like listening to some other language called Legalish. She became fluent in no time. I tried to contribute but ended up making up words like suesfontay. “What? Oh, (chuckling) you mean sua sponte.” Whoops.

Year two is underway and Mandi is back at school (2L!). Back to school for me means cooking for one, being solely responsible for my own entertainment, cleaning the apartment (or having a dirty apartment), grocery shopping, doing lots of yoga videos, watching too much TV and moping about the house. Back to school means going to sleep and waking up alone because Mandi is studying both later than I can keep my eyes open and much earlier than I can drag myself out of bed. Back to school means scheduling dates weeks in advance even though we live in the same house. Back to school means a return to solitary life.

Okay, so I’m being pretty dramatic. I actually have a busy schedule and the first year was not all bad. We had some fun times (on winter and spring breaks) and learned that we have what it takes to make it through another—a comparatively challenging--year together. The law school authorities say that the first year is the worst, until they tell you that the first semester of the second year is actually worse than the first. Externing for a judge, being on a journal and interviewing for next summer’s job are all added to the 2L’s class load. When I heard that being on a journal means writing a note I thought that didn’t sound so bad. Then I found out that this so called “note” is actually a 40-page research paper. Oy.



The most expensive (and quickly multiplying) section of our home library

But at least I know what to expect this year, and so does she. As Mandi bought books this fall, I bought paint to transform our living room. As Mandi scheduled her classes, I scheduled band practice. As she interviewed for jobs next summer, I made dinner plans with friends for next week.

To help others whose loved ones are embarking down this legal path I’ve gathered bits of advice, some from my own experience and some from other partners of the future partners of America.

And as much as I don’t like to perpetuate stereotypes, let’s face it. Many of them are probably Jewish.

An important precursor to the following: these words are not all mine and do not all represent my personal experiences, even if they are stated in the first person. Thank you to all who contributed their hard-earned advice.

  - Remember that patience is a virtue.

  - Be prepared for speed talking, especially if there is more than one law student involved. You can either develop some mad speed listening skills or create an alternate day dreaming universe. (I prefer the latter.)

  - Never underestimate the importance of (insert boring subject). In your partner’s new world, this is more important than food. Really. (see next bullet)

  - You may find yourself buying new clothes for your partner after they have forgotten to eat lunch and/or dinner so many times that they shrink out of their old clothes.

  - Stay connected by having lots of sex.

  - Understand that meeting at Starbucks for 15 minutes before her class is a "date" and realize that your partner, if she's having a busy week, sees this as a massive sacrifice. Try not to bitch - I was never good at that.

  - Do not take the grumpiness personally. Good advice for both partners.

  - If you want your partner to impress your family over the holidays, or at least make a decent appearance, you may have to take it upon yourself to schedule things like haircuts and eyebrow threading as a "fun day out together before driving up north to see the fam." You may also have to do the packing and ironing for such trip so that matching outfits make it into the suitcase.

  - Make plans to have a weekend away together after finals.

  - Be sure to have planned evening activities for yourself. For me, because I am crazy, this meant getting a Master's degree -- this "get a new, time consuming hobby" plan works in less extreme measures as well. We had moved to a new city together so she could go to school and I thought I'd take a writing class or something to meet people and have something to do at night. That turned into grad school which turned into a whole new career. But make no mistake, grad school is not like college and meeting people is harder. Staying in a city where you have friends and a social life is preferable.

  - Be prepared for your partner, usually witty and hilarious, to spend a lot of time while walking down the street telling you what is illegal about what is going on around you.

  - Plan a date night for once a month.

  - Your partner, formally cool and stylish, may start looking like shit most of the time (and rocking a ____ Law t-shirt and/or sweatshirt) and rolling around one of those backpacks on wheels like a giant tool. You have to just let this go. And when you do get a real night out together and said partner offers up niceties like a clean shirt, remember to compliment him.

  - Have your own life outside of your partner and his/her law school friends.  First of all, if you sit around waiting for them to come back from the library, you will end up very lonely.  Also, they have an amazing ability to talk about law non-stop and honestly - how much can you really stand to hear about civil procedure.

  - When it comes to studying for the bar, just remember that you will get to spend time together at the end of the summer.

I’ve heard that there are relationships whose demise can be blamed on law school. I feel lucky to have an amazing partner who is committed to having a balanced lifestyle; and I’m proud of her for being a great student and still making time for me when there’s not enough time for everything. To all the partners of future partners, good luck out there.

Walk Like A Man: Spector (left) with co-stars Drew Gehling, Bryan McElroy and Michael Ingersoll.
Photo credit: Joan Marcus

A nice Jewish boy from Philly playing a tough Italian boy from Jersey might not be such a big stretch when you consider that both chose their careers early in life. Sure, Jarrod Spector started out as a toddler with a performance of “Yankee Doodle Dandy” and went on to get professional training while Frankie Valli was inspired by seeing Frank Sinatra perform live—and by his desire not to end up in the trunk of a car or in jail like many of the other kids in his neighborhood.

Regardless of their backgrounds, Spector brings Valli to life on stage—with high praise from the critics as well as Valli himself—in the Chicago production of  Jersey Boys: The Story of Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons . Spector performed the role of Frankie at the Bank of America theatre from October 2007 until last month.



The story of the rise of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons (Frankie Valli, Bob Gaudio, Tommy DeVito and Nick Massi) tells the tale of how a group of blue-collar boys from the wrong side of the tracks came to be one of the biggest American pop music sensations of all time. The group wrote their own songs, invented their own sounds and sold 175 million records worldwide — all before they were 30, according to the show’s site.

The story is compelling and the familiar—and still popular—songs including, “Sherry,” “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,” and “Oh, What a Night” make for great entertainment.

Spector’s Valli has received rave reviews and meeting the man himself meant a lot to the actor. “Frankie was everything I wanted him to be,” Spector says. “There's a specific challenge in playing a real person, and meeting him there's a great risk--if you don't like the man, can you still love the character? But thankfully that couldn't have been less of an issue. He was very kind and being around him, I could feel why he became an icon. He's a star, he has that ineffable quality of drawing the attention of people around him.”

To prepare for the role Spector said he, “listened to Frankie's voice ad nauseum, and also watched old footage to get a feel for his style.” And his background helped with the ‘Jersey boy’ accent. “Well...I'm from Philly. The accent wasn't that unfamiliar. Couple of episodes of The Sopranos and almost anyone can do it.”

Spector’s parents are responsible for noticing their son’s musical inclination might be more than just the babbling of a two-year-old. “My parents took me over to a renowned local singing coach, Russell Faith, who took me on [as a student] and suggested that my parents take me over to try out for the Al Alberts Showcase, a local variety show in Philadelphia that aired on weekend mornings. They did, and a few weeks later I was singing "Yankee Doodle Dandy" as a three-year-old on Philadelphia TV. I was on the show for almost four years and eventually went on to compete on Star Search (the Ed McMahon version) and perform on the Jerry Lewis Telethon.”

Performing on the variety show may have opened the door to other performing ventures for the young Spector but he was hardly an industry kid. “I didn't even know the words "musical theater" until I auditioned for Les Miserables when I was nine. I played Gavroche in the show for about three years, on and off, in Philly, Chicago and on Broadway.”

Because he was out on the road, he could not attend regular school or religious school, but managed to keep up with his Jewish studies even with his busy performing schedule.

“[I] had to have a tutor [for my Bar Mitzvah training] because my time in Les Miserables directly conflicted on Sundays during the few years leading up to my Bar Mitzvah. I'm very proud of my Jewish heritage and have great respect for Jewish traditions and values. And I'll tell you, as I play an Italian every night--the cultures are not that far apart!”

Spector’s familiarity with The Four Seasons' music also helped him prepare for the role of Frankie Valli. “When I went to audition for the show I knew every song almost by heart. My parents were big fans and played them for me.”



Singing “My Eyes Adored You” (from left to right) Michael Ingersoll, Jarrod Spector, Drew Gehling and Bryan McElroy. Photo credit: Joan Marcus

Spector was invited to audition for the original Broadway cast a few years back, but at the time the role went to someone else. It wasn’t until a year late that he was rehearsing for Hamlet at the Atlantic Theatre 2nd Stage that he got the call to come in and audition for the tour. This time he landed the part.

“Playing Hamlet did help--there are actually more similarities in the two seemingly antithetical characters than you'd think, and I credit playing Hamlet at the time with finding the gravity and depth I needed in the audition room.”

Right after talking with Oy! Spector got some big news. He’s been given the opportunity to play Frankie on Broadway. Today, Jarrod is back in New York City and local Chicagoan Corey Grant has taken over the role. Spector said there are many reasons why he will miss living and performing in the Windy City.

“I loved eating [the food here.]  Seriously. What a great array of restaurants, from Hot Doug's to Gibson's, my favorite. And going to the beach during the summer! I'm very much a New York guy, and I was kind of blown away being able to walk five blocks to a beach in the city. Oh, and the music! My cast frequented Kingston Mines, among other spots, and I was always blown away by the quality of the musicians in the city.”

Take in Jersey Boys at the Bank of America theatre, to purchase tickets, visit the official Web site at  http://www.jerseyboysinfo.com/chicago/

Stacey shares some of her High Holiday traditions, and traditional recipes

As I have mentioned before, my Judaism, while deeply rooted and very important to me, is something that falls more on the side of culture and tradition and less on the side of religion or spirituality. But there are certain aspects of every holiday that resonate for me, and one of the things I appreciate about being Jewish, is that I can feel free to cherry pick the pieces I like and leave the rest behind.

As we look towards the High Holidays, I thought I would share some of my traditions, and some of my traditional recipes, with you.

As my family did not, and does not, belong to a temple, the high holidays are always spent with family and friends. Actually, the friends in question are basically family. I’m blessed with several families, extra parents abound (all of the love and advice and support but none of the discipline or college tuition), and I’ve got enough siblings-by-choice to sort of feel fundamentalist Mormon. Not to mention a truly ridiculous number of bonus nieces and nephews. Some of my earliest memories are of spending the high holidays with different configurations of these special friends.

Often we gather at my family’s weekend place in the country, a place away from the hustle and bustle, with plenty of trees and green, wide open sky and fresh air. A place where, if one is inclined to commune with a higher power, it seems like the deity of your choice just might be hanging out.  Sometimes the day includes a field trip to a state park for a long walk or to the Botanical Gardens or, if schedules keep us downtown, a swing by the Lincoln Park Zoo or the Conservatory.

After some happy outdoor activity, sort of a nod to Adonai, ‘thanks for all the cool nature and stuff!’ we repair to the nearest convenient living room. If it’s Rosh Hashanah, there are apples and honey to snack upon and possibly kichel if someone has been to Kaufman’s recently. If it’s Yom Kippur there’s a rousing chorus of “Isn’t it sundown somewhere?” and “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry in my life!” And before you get all shocked that most of our merry band of skip-the-services practitioners actually do fast, it is important to note a few things. One, we almost never make it all the way to sundown, we tend to break out the chopped liver round about 3:30pm, and feel virtuous to have made it that far. Two, the fasting packs a devilish one-two punch, it both connects you meaningfully to the tradition without having to sit through services all day, and also gives you total guiltless permission for a major Jew-food binge for the rest of the evening.

At some point in the afternoon, we break out the “All things Jewish explained” books, and take turns reading about the origin of the holiday at hand. On Rosh Hashanah we might offer up some new year’s resolutions to the group, on Yom Kippur there is meaningful atonement-type eye contact around the room, in case you may have accidentally offended someone present.

And then there is the meal. We go full-on traditional for holidays, with my grandmother Jonnie both cooking and providing recipes, the two meals are a true connection to our history. For Rosh Hashanah, there’s matzo ball soup and brisket, served with farfel with mushrooms and onions, or kasha varnishkes.  Round challah, of course, and more apples and honey. Usually there is also a chicken option, and some sort of green vegetable. For Yom Kippur, we go light, bagels and lox, tuna salad, egg salad, sweet kugel. It is all delicious, all exactly what we want and need, it feeds the soul as well as the body.

I talk a lot about the deeper meaning of food between people. When people ask why I go to the trouble of hosting at home, cooking for people instead of going out, my answer is simple. It is a sacred gift to feed someone. To sustain them physically, and please them sensually. The conversations you have around your dining table or in the living room before or after a meal, those are conversations that don’t happen in restaurants. Food is love. Not a substitute for, but an expression thereof. It is often the cliché of Jews that we are constantly talking about food and planning the next meal, and the stereotypical Jewish mother is always portrayed trying to get someone to eat something. This comes from somewhere. It is no surprise to me that a religion I associate so much with attempting to live a life that sustains and fulfills spiritually and intellectually, that we have a fine and long tradition of food. My favorite holiday is the Seder (more on that in the spring, I promise). The use of food inside of a holy service seems very natural to me.

So, as we look to the New Year, to a time of renewal and forgiveness, I wish you all very happy holidays, however you choose to celebrate. An easy fast, if that is on your agenda, and really good food. And to help you in that, I offer up a couple of my family’s recipes.

Brisket

1 5 lb. beef brisket
2 t salt
¼ t pepper
2 yellow onions, sliced
4 ribs celery, sliced
1 c chili sauce (Heinz is good)
1 bottle beer
¼ c water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put water on the bottom of a heavy roasting pan. Season brisket with salt and pepper and lay on top of water. Spread onion and celery over the top of the meat, then distribute chili sauce evenly over the vegetables. Cook uncovered 90 minutes. Pour beer over meat, cover tightly with foil, and braise 45 minutes per pound of meat. Remove from gravy, defat liquid, and puree juices with vegetables. Put juice in container, and chill meat overnight in fridge. The next day slice meat across the grain and lay into baking dish. Cover with gravy, and put back in fridge. Reheat at 350 to serve. (1 hour to indefinitely!)

Matzo Balls

2 T melted chicken fat
2 eggs, beaten
½ c matzo meal
1 t salt
¼ t white pepper
1/8 t baking powder
2 T club soda

Make sure fat is cool (you can substitute vegetable oil) and mix with eggs. Blend matzo meal with other dry ingredients and mix blend into eggs and fat. When well mixed, add club soda. Cover and place in fridge for 30 minutes at least. Bring 3 quarts water or chicken stock to boil in large wide stockpot. While waiting for it to boil, form balls of the chilled mixture. Reduce heat to simmer and drop in balls, cover and cook 30-40 minutes depending on size of balls. Store hot in cooking liquid, or chill for later use, freeze in cooking liquid or soup.

Poppyseed Cookies

3 eggs
1 c sugar
¾ c cooking oil
¼ c orange juice
¼ t salt
¼ c poppyseeds
2 c sifted all purpose flour

Preheat oven to 350. Beat eggs till foamy, then add sugar, oil, juice and salt. Add poppyseeds and flour and mix till well blended. Drop by heaping half-teaspoon (I know it looks like not enough, but trust me) 1” apart on ungreased sheet pan. Bake 15-18 minutes, until just golden around edges, but still pale in the center. Remove immediately from sheet to rack and cool.

NOSH of the week:  In light of the impending holidays, I challenge you all to participate actively in the holiday meals. If you love to cook, offer to host one of the celebratory meals. Take the afternoon off and spend it in the kitchen with your mom or grandmother and ask to hear the stories about where the family recipes came from. If you’re handy with the computer, borrow the notebooks and scraps of paper that comprise the family food history and scan them or retype them into a cookbook and make copies for the family. Learn how to make your favorite traditional food. Invite someone over who can’t make it home for the holidays. And mostly, celebrate all the extraordinary blessings of this past year.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey

www.staceyballis.com

NOSH food read of the week:  Okay, you’ve all seen them. They line the shelves of your mom’s office or grandmother’s kitchen nook or your favorite Aunt’s bookshelf. That series of worn cookbooks, Thoughts for Buffets, Thoughts for Good Eating, Thoughts for Food, Thoughts for Festive Foods, More Thoughts for Buffets…this series of cookbooks were produced by the Women’s Auxiliary Board of the JCC, as a fundraiser to support Camp Chai. Jonnie, my aforementioned grandmother, was one of the recipe testers. They are sort of innocuous, likely to have the binding cracked, pages dog-eared and falling out, stained and full of crumbs. And if you are smart, you’ll make sure that they never leave the family. They are full of great recipes and all your favorite classics are here. Most of the recipes were donated by the women of the Auxiliary (and their hired cooks!), so it is basic home cooking for every occasion. They can be a funny trip down memory lane, Jonnie and I have had many a side-splitting laugh over some of the outdated foods and ideas. But they are a part of our larger heritage, and worth holding dear. So the next time you are with your family and spot them collecting dust, take a look, and see if it isn’t maybe your turn to be the keeper.

Lake Koshkonong, home of the gefilte fish

Having my face smacked with a decomposing alewife when I was five put my blossoming relationship with fish on the wrong foot. The north shore beach where the family frolicked was littered with the stinky things. And while I eventually learned to steer clear of the bullies who used the rotting fish as weapons, from that moment on, a day at the beach no longer was a day at the beach.

It was years before I had anything to do with fish other than to step gingerly around their silvery corpses.

“If it used to swim, I’m not eating it,” was my unspoken mantra.

By the time I reached fifth grade or so, emboldened one Pesach by as many shots as I could sneak of Manischewitz sweet table wine, I finally relented to Bubbe’s perennial plea to try her gefilte fish. I slathered the gray, lifeless lump with gobs of horseradish, blocked my brain from thinking about its murky, marine origins, shaved off a tiny sliver with my fork, and swallowed it without gagging. (I think I was holding my nose.)

My recovery from fish trauma had begun.

Fast forward many years, and I’m up for a slab of grilled salmon or a filet of fried tilapia now and then. No head, no tail, preferably no skin, and I’m usually good to go.

Come the Jewish holidays I actually look forward to gefilte fish. Which leads me to a Rosh Hashanah fish tale.

Eighteen months ago, my wife and I found a little piece of paradise by the shores of Lake Koshkonong, a vast, shallow lake in southeastern Wisconsin that nobody else seems to have heard of. It’s bigger than Lake Geneva, and less than an hour further up Highway 12, but you can practically hear a pin drop on Koshkonong, even on lazy summer weekends when flotillas of motor boats churn other Wisconsin lakes to a noisy froth.

Lurking in Koshkonong’s waters are lots and lots of fish: walleye, white bass, northern pike and carp. More carp than you can shake a fish stick at. More carp than you can imagine. So much carp, according to Jerry, the avuncular owner of Harbor Recreation, in Newville, Wisconsin, that just about every fish product made in North America that doesn’t actually look like fish—from fish sticks to fish filets to fast food sandwiches—comes from the clean waters of Koshkonong.

During a recent visit to Jerry regarding an old pontoon boat with a cranky engine, I learned more about the fate of Koshkonong’s carp.

Jews are pretty few and far between in an area of the country I like to refer to as “Germany lite,” and I don’t know if Jerry spotted me as a Member of the Tribe (not his tribe, mine). But he managed to finesse gefilte fish into the conversation with the patience and grace of a seasoned angler.

“You know, Jewish people eat tons of carp from here for their holidays,” he ventured. He tantalized me with fish tales of bearded rabbis coming all the way to Koshkonong from Borough Park to inspect and bless the fish before they’re packed in ice and shipped off.

At dusk my wife and I like to sit by the water’s edge and watch the sky light up as the sun sinks over the water. Near shore the carp like to jump, catching flies for dinner before slapping back down into the water.

I can’t say I’ve yet come to love those fish, especially the occasional one I find decomposing on our beach. But I do look forward this Rosh Hashanah to eating a little piece of Lake Koshkonong, daubed with horseradish and downed with sweet holiday wine.

Allyson, socializing

Cleveland native Allyson Becker moved to Chicago to become a professional Jew after graduating from Ohio State in 2002. After four years working at the Jewish Federation, Allyson joined up with the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces, a non-profit committed to the well being of Israel’s soldiers. Funds from the FIDF are used to build mobile gyms, synagogues and libraries on military bases, provide care packages and fund academic scholarship for ex-combat soldiers.

So whether you’re a fellow sushi junkie, a Buckeye fan or a friend of the IDF, Allyson Becker is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I had no idea at all until my junior year of college when I had an internship in the development department at Hillel. When I was little, I was just very social and in second grade my teacher told my mom that I was too much of a social butterfly. But, it turns out that has helped me in my career.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I feel like a lot of times we get bogged down with the day to day things, but we have soldiers in town once a month and it really grounds me when they are here talking with us and sharing their stories and I realize all the more why what I do is so important.

3. What are you reading?
Essentially, the only thing I have been reading for the last month is various proofs of our tribute book for next week’s gala!

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Anyone that knows me well—or really anyone who knows me at all—could answer this question! I order form Sushi Naniwa on Ohio so often that they have my card on file. The crunch role is the best; I am telling you it’s the best sushi in the city.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A time machine to take me back to college when life was way more simple. I have college on the brain today!

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
I’d love to fly and be able to see places that I wouldn’t usually get to visit.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
I was on the elliptical this morning and an old-school Puffy song came on from my freshman year of college—he went by Puffy then for sure!

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago – in other words, how do you Jew?
Attend FIDF Young Leadership events of course!

Get your Jew on with Allyson next Saturday at the  FIDF’s Annual Gala ! 

Johnny (played by Josef Brown) and Baby (played by Georgina Rich)—Opposites attract. A scene from the London production of the live show. Photo credit: David Scheinmann

“That was the summer of 1963 when everybody called me Baby and it didn’t occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before The Beatles came, when I couldn’t wait to joint the Peace Corps, and I thought I’d never find a guy as great as my dad. That was the summer we went to Kellerman’s.”

These are the opening lines of the film “Dirty Dancing,” in which Frances “Baby” Houseman—a 17-year-old Jewish idealist—vacations with her family at a resort in the Catskill Mountains, where she discovers standing up for what she believes, the healing power of dance, and love.

Released in 1987, the film portrays a time of innocence set in the summer of 1963 on the cusp of big change in this country. “I called `63 the last summer of liberalism because it was the last summer you thought you could reach out your hand and make the world better and do it through peaceful and loving means,” said Eleanor Bergstein, writer and creator of the film. The character “Baby,” a nickname Bergstein was called until age 19, is partly based on Bergstein’s life.

Shot on a shoestring budget of $5 million in 44 days, the movie launched to fame unknown stars at the time, Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze. In 20 years, the coming-of-age movie has reached cult classic status. “Dirty Dancing” die-hards have watched the movie so many times that they can deliver the lines with the actors, including the random and oft-quoted “Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” which made the American Film Institute’s list of the top 100 most famous movie quotes of all times.

In fact, through Bergstein’s research, she discovered that certain cable TV stations would run the movie on a continual loop for 24 hours straight and fans, instead of watching bits and pieces of the movie, would cancel plans for the day to watch the movie continuously.

“Something happens to them while they’re in front of the [movie],” Bergstein said. “If what they really want to do is be present while it’s happening, then live theater is its natural form.”

So the “Dirty Dancing” obsession inspired Bergstein to transform the movie into a live stage production. The show, entitled “Dirty Dancing—The Classic Story On Stage,” branded a play with lots of dancing and music—as opposed to a musical—kicks off its pre-Broadway U.S. premiere at Chicago’s Cadillac Palace Theatre from Sept. 28 to Dec. 7. Bergstein adapts the play from the film, and James Powell directs the live production.



Britta Lazenga (as Penny) and Jake Simmons (as Johnny) from the Toronto production, dirty dance. Photo credit: Cylla von Tiedmann

Before Chicago, the show played in Australia, Germany, England, and Toronto. Following its Windy City run, the play will tour several U.S. cities before premiering on Broadway.

“Dirty Dancing” is based on Bergstein’s recollections of summer vacations spent with her parents as a teenager at Grossinger’s, a swanky Catskills resort (named “Kellerman’s” in the fictitious story) with a large Jewish clientele. While her parents and older sister would tee off at the golf course, Bergstein would race off to the dance studio. There, she would enter and win “dirty” dancing competitions.



Josef Brown (Johnny) and Nadia Coote (Penny) strut their stuff on stage with help from the ensemble from the London production of the show. Photo credit: David Scheinmann

In the film and the live show—like Bergstein—Baby, too, wanders into the staff living quarters of the resort and discovers a risqué, sexy, and exciting underworld of dancers. There, she meets the intense and sexy dance instructor, Johnny Castle, from the other side of the tracks. For a variety of reasons, Baby becomes Johnny’s dance partner, and Johnny begrudgingly gives her lessons. But soon, the two develop a magnetic attraction and a love affair despite coming from opposite worlds.

Both the film and show have a sensual appeal. “It’s a magical, empowering story and I don’t think it’s just women who love it,” said Lauren Klein, a Jewish actor in the show, who lives in the Catskills when she is not performing. “It’s also a very sexy story. Back in the ‘50s and ‘60s, sex was something that was thrilling, hidden, and mysterious, [unlike] today.”

More than just a romance, the play explores the civil rights era in greater depth than the film. It’s the summer of freedom marching and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” speech, and in one powerful campfire scene, the actors sing the protest song “We shall overcome,” an anthem of the civil rights movement.

“This was the generation—many of them first-generation Americans—that was coming out of the memories of the war,” said Bergstein. “They loved America and there was a great desire to make the world safe. They thought the Jews were going to be safe now because World War II was over and the next group that needed help was those who were then called Negroes.”

Amanda Leigh Cobb plays Baby, Josef Brown plays Johnny Castle, and Chicago’s own Britta Lazenga, a member of Chicago’s Joffrey Ballet, plays Penny Johnson.

Cobb compares playing Baby—a character ingrained into the 80s pop culture vernacular—to another famous lovesick protagonist from many decades ago. “I used to joke with my friends about doing Shakespeare,” Cobb said. “People would say, ‘Juliette, you should play Juliette.’ And I would say, ‘I don’t know, because everyone has an idea of Juliette and who she is. That’s a lot of pressure.’ So when I got the job playing Baby, my friends would call and tease me.”

“Dirty Dancing” covers a lot of ground in a tumultuous time, but—in the end—it’s about the dancer within. “It’s about a feeling that there is a secret dancer inside you that can connect you to the world,” said Bergstein. “People who have never danced before, people who dance all the time, people who always thought they could dance see the show. Everyone has a secret dancer inside.”

For tickets to the show, call (312) 902-1400. For group sales and for subscribers to the 2008 Broadway In Chicago Season Series, call (312) 977-1710. For more information, visit  www.dirtydancingamerica.com or  www.broadwayinchicago.com . 

Oy!sters recall their, "I carried a watermelon" moments and other Dirty Dancing memories. What are yours?

The shirt in question

Only once have I been asked if I killed Jesus.

The girl, a ninth-grade peer of mine at the time, with chutzpah enough to ask me this question, hailed from a small, Jew-free Minnesotan town. When I mentioned in passing to her that I was Jewish, the next words out of her mouth were, “Didn’t the Jews kill Christ?”

That’s the only time I’ve encountered blatant anti-Semitism—black-and-white-no-question-this-is-clearly-anti-Semitism anti-Semitism. But what scares me in our culture today is the not-so-blatant anti-Semitism. It’s a much subtler and more insidious form of Jew bashing, so pervasive in American society—particularly in Jewish circles, of all places—it’s considered both acceptable and even comical.

I don’t lack a sense of humor but the stereotype of the Jewish American Princess—the JAP—is offensive to me as both a Jew and as a woman. I once saw this image, defined in urbandictionary.com as a “bitchy, spoiled, gold-digging Jewish female,” emblazoned on an Urban Outfitters T-shirt with the caption “Everyone loves a Jewish girl,” surrounded by dollar signs and purses.

And worse yet, it’s our children, our community who are the market for this image—we’re expected to accept it, buy it and thus perpetuate it.

The JAP image dates back to the 1950s, when Jews themselves, many still feeling like outsiders relatively new to this country, coined the stereotype as a defense mechanism, according to Riv-Ellen Prell, a University of Minnesota anthropologist and professor of American studies, who has lectured on Jewish gender types. The image then became popularized during the 1970s when consumerism took hold of the country, according to Prell, who contends that the JAP, like the other ubiquitous Jewish female stereotype—the Jewish mother—is depicted as uncontrollable, with endless wants.

Today, even though we are no longer outsiders, the JAP stereotype has stuck. A few years ago, the Urban Outfitters’ tee, which became so controversial it was later pulled from the shelves, was part of a larger line of ethnic T-shirts. One, for example, says, “Everyone loves a Catholic girl,” with miniature crucifixes decorating the slogan, while another declares, “Everyone loves an Italian girl,” illustrated with pizza drawings. A silly concept for a clothing line? Perhaps. Harmful to society? No.

But then there’s the Jewish tee, “Everyone loves a Jewish girl,” surrounded by dollar signs and purses! Why, rather than money symbols, couldn’t the T-shirt designers have slapped some Magen Davids onto the shirt? Even bagels would have been better. Either of these would have been more comparable to the imagery on the other shirts.

These days, there are a huge variety of threads that help Members of the Tribe and friends of MOTs literally wear their religious identity on their sleeves, like those offered on Jewcy and Kosher Ham.

To me, any of these images and slogans are far more innocuous than the message that the shirt in question delivers. After being flooded with complaints, Urban Outfitters Inc. redesigned the T-shirt sans dollar signs and purses, an action that the store says it took out of sensitivity to the Jewish community. I applaud the company for taking the offensive shirt off the market, but we as a Jewish community ought to be concerned about what this shirt represents. Shouldn’t we worry that the image of the Jewish people is one synonymous with money and materialism?

Think about the dangerous origins of the rich/greedy Jew image. The stereotype was born many centuries ago when Jews were relegated to occupations dealing with money. Ever since, throughout history, Jews have been targets of this hateful stereotype—an  image that came to a head in Nazi Germany when Hitler employed it as a tool in the initial stages of his hate campaign against the Jewish people. The Holocaust is our most tragic reminder of what happens when a stereotype becomes accepted as a general truth, an accurate way to portray an entire people.

Yet now, we seem to have forgotten this lesson. In today’s society, Jews are no longer just victims of negative Jewish stereotypes—we’re perpetrators of them. Aren’t we the ones projecting and buying into these stereotypes? After all, aren’t our Jewish daughters the ones who were buying these ridiculous T-shirts? Is this message of materialism what we want to convey to the outside world and—more importantly—to our own Jewish children?

Many Jews figure that it’s okay for “members of the tribe” to tell JAP jokes because a Jew can’t be anti-Jewish. I disagree. To me, these jokes aren’t funny; they are mockery, betraying a lack of self-respect, becomes self-destructive. Furthermore, if we ourselves perpetuate these negative Jewish images, then how can we criticize non-Jews for doing the same?

I can recall three instances on first dates when two minutes into our time together, my Jewish date has asked me, “Does Daddy pay for your apartment?” Mind you, these men hardly know me, let alone have they ever seen where I live, yet they assume that because I’m a Jewish girl in the big city, I’m rich and spoiled. (Note to my Jewish sisters: If this ever happens to you, feel free to cut the date short and walk straight out the door.)

To me, JAP humor is particularly repulsive because the stereotype is untrue. That’s not to stay there are no Jewish women out there who fit the princess stereotype, but there are also non-Jewish princesses, Jewish princes and non-Jewish princes too.

My wonderful circle of Jewish girlfriends in no way fits the JAP stereotype. They are kind, independent, bright, and ethical young women—each a mensch. These are the qualities—the qualities of a mensch—that I enjoy sharing with my friends, qualities that I hope the world will recognize.

This is my hope for my 3-year-old and 9-month-old Jewish nephews—and for my future children as well—to grow up in a world without prejudgments and stereotypes. That’s something for us to strive for.

Ethan Michaeli, fighting injustice in Chicago since 1991

Ethan Michaeli was inspired to work in social justice by his parents, Holocaust survivors who emigrated to Israel in 1949 and came to the U.S. before he was born. Originally from Rochester, NY, Michaeli graduated from the University of Chicago in 1989 and two years later began working for the  Chicago Defender, a 100-year-old, African American-owned daily newspaper where he did investigative reporting on the homeless, environmental racism and police brutality. In 1996, he launched  Residents' Journal , an independent news magazine written for and by tenants of Chicago's low-income public housing developments. In 2000, Michaeli created We The People Media, a not-for-profit organization, to save Residents' Journal after government funding was cut. Ethan's work at Residents' Journal has been the subject of front-page articles in The Wall Street Journal and the Chicago Tribune Sunday Magazine as well as feature segments in the Los Angeles Times and on National Public Radio, among other media.

Michaeli serves as vice president of the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs; he and his wife Kimiyo Naka live with their six-month-old son in Chicago. So whether you are passionate about justice, think that cockroaches will eventually take over the planet or you too love to sing and dance to the “Time Warp,” Ethan Michaeli is a Jew You Should Know.

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was about 10 years old.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love it when we publish a story that makes the political establishment in this town blink. Chicago is a great city, but there are great injustices here with respect to how the poor are treated. I live for those all-too-rare occasions when we win one. I’m equally thrilled watching the development of the young people we’ve trained as citizen journalists. We’ve had a youth journalism program for more than a decade, and some of our youth reporters have become working journalists. Others have gone on to be carpenters, actors and medical students. They all know how to speak up for themselves, their neighbors and their communities.

3. What are you reading?
I rarely read fewer than three books at a time, making slow and unsteady progress with each. For my book club, I’m reading Salman Rushdie’s  Midnight’s Children , his novel of the birth of India and Pakistan. I’ve almost finished  Imperium , Ryszard Kapuscinski’s non-fiction narrative of his encounters with the Soviet Union and post-Soviet Russia over a period of six decades. I’m also in the middle of  Justinian’s Flea , William Rosen’s account of how the Bubonic Plague wrecked the Byzantine Empire.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I’ve been going to  El Nandu , an Argentinian restaurant in Logan Square, for so long that its grass-fed steaks and empanadas are comfort food. If I crave sushi, I go to  Ginza , a not-so-elegant looking place on the ground floor of the Tokyo Hotel that nevertheless has fish so fresh that I swear little old ladies on the red-eye from Japan bring it in ice-filled suitcases.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
I’d invent a time machine, so I could visit 9th century Spain, the fabled Andalusia in which Jews, Muslims and Christians all lived in relative harmony. I’d also check out the Mayan Empire at its height and have dinner with Genghis Khan in his palace. I might visit the future also, to see if I’m right that giant cockroaches will take over the planet once we ruin it.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
I would rather be able to fly. I have a six-month-old son who loves it when we pick him up and carry him around. He thinks he’s flying already. I would love to be able to carry him to exotic locales. It also would be grand to zoom up to a high altitude to get some perspective on those frequent occasions that I need it.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
I don’t own an iPod, but if you’re asking for music I’m embarrassed for other people to know I listen to, it would be the album from the  Rocky Horror Picture Show . It takes me back to high school, and the first time I made out with a girl. I also listen to Hadag Nachash, an Israeli hip hop group that my friends who are hip hop aficionados think sounds like it was made with a music machine bought at Toys R Us.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago – in other words, how do you Jew?
I am a vice president of the board of the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs, a 44-year-old social justice organization. JCUA, founded by Rabbi Robert Marx, a veteran of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s civil rights movement, sends organizers to work at neighborhood groups, stands up for progressive issues, and educates Jews about the realities of racism and poverty in Chicago. I’m not religious but otherwise very serious about my Judaism, so JCUA is my synagogue.

A doll featured in the exhibit, from the International Barbie Dolls (Dolls of the World Series © Mattel, Inc), from the collections of Bettina Dorfman and Barbie-Klinik Düsseldorf

As a little girl, Elizabeth Gelman’s daughter would describe everyone by the color of clothes they were wearing. She would say, “That purple lady over there is talking to that green man.”

Like the little girl, children often learn how to classify through this sort of exercise. But somewhere along the way in society, as children grow into adults, differentiating between people sometimes morphs into stereotyping.

“There’s a difference between recognizing the differences and stereotyping people—putting people into categories and thinking that is where they belong,” said Gelman, the manager of education for the Spertus Museum at the Spertus Institute of Jewish Studies in Chicago.

A new exhibition at the museum, entitled “Twisted Into Recognition: Clichés of Jews and Others,” explores the ways images and objects that depict stereotypes are seen, perceived, and classified. Organized by the Jewish Museum Berlin and the Jewish Museum Vienna, the exhibit runs in Chicago from Sept. 26-Jan. 18.

The show does not deny ethnic or cultural differences, but rather explores how stereotypes about these differences are conveyed. “Stereotypes and clichés are an integral part of our perception, shaping our image of ourselves and others as well as our sense of belonging to a distinct group or nation apart from others,” said exhibit co-curator Dr. Felicitas Heimann-Jelinek. “At the same time, they can serve as a breeding ground for racist ideologies. The exhibition aims to raise consciousness about how we interpret and evaluate with every glance, and how we need to question our ‘point of view’ over and over again.”

Heimann-Jelinek, senior curator for the Spertus Museum and chief curator of the Jewish Museum Vienna, curated the exhibit with Hannes Sulzenbacher, a curatorial specialist in Austria. After premiering in Berlin earlier this year, the show's September arrival marks the start of its only American stop. Following its run at Spertus, the show will travel to Vienna.

Most of the stereotypes in the multimedia exhibit are presented in a triptych format, a series of three panels: an item that historically illustrates the stereotype, a familiar example of the stereotype from culture and a contemporary artistic response.



A page from a 1938 Nazi schoolbook regarding the stereotype of the Jewish nose

For example, consider the stereotype that Jews have big noses. First, the exhibit displays an image from a 1938 Nazi schoolbook of a child looking at a drawing on a blackboard of an old man with a large nose wearing a Jewish star. The caption of the image translates to “The Jew’s nose is bent at its tip. It looks like a six.” Second, the triptych features Viennese walking sticks from the 1800s with handles made to look like hook-shaped noses. Finally, in the artistic response to the stereotype, the painting “Before and Happily Ever After,” by American artist Deborah Kass, plays with stereotypes and obsessions about beauty by reproducing Andy Warhol’s image of a woman’s profile before and after plastic surgery.



Jen Taylor Friedman's Tefillin Barbie 

The exhibit also features “Tefillin Barbie,” a Barbie doll sporting tallit (prayer shawl) and tefillin (phylacteries) reading from a Torah. The Barbie is the creation of Jen Taylor Friedman, a Jewish ritual scribe from England, who is the first woman known to have completed a Torah scroll. Her doll has garnered mixed feedback from the public, being called everything from “disgusting” to “incredibly amazing.”

Friedman recognizes the need to classify people, but wishes human beings could do so in a less destructive way. “The world is a great big complicated place and there is only so much space you can hold so it helps to label people,” she said. “It would be nice if we could use less-destructive labels, if a Jewish label could not mean the grasping guy with a gigantic nose, but could be the nice person who goes to shul.”

Multiculturalism has become a feel-good buzzword in recent years, but Gelman says it’s important to wrestle with the more squeamish topics too. “Sometimes we get lulled into this contentment talking in generalities about multiculturalism and diversity and that is the feel-good conversation,” she said. “But discussions of race and ethnicity have to include conversations about discrimination, prejudice, and stereotypes too. While those discussions probably are more uncomfortable, they are really important. We hope that one day racism will be a relic of a very distant past, but we need to recognize it in order to move forward.”

“Twisted Into Recognition: Clichés of Jews and Others” runs Friday, Sept. 26-Sunday, Jan. 18, 2009. A free public preview will be held Thursday, Sept. 25 from 5:30-8. Docent-led tours for both students and adults are also available. For more information, visit  www.spertus.edu or call (312) 322-1700. 

Group photo after we completed the job

It took 21 volunteers two full days to “muck out” just one of the 5,000 homes in Cedar Rapids affected by the severe flooding that has decimated parts of Iowa since May 25. The floods forced more than 40,000 Iowans from their homes and 86 counties are still considered disaster areas.

When I was asked to participate in this two-day mission to Cedar Rapids, sponsored by JUF’s TOV Volunteer Network in partnership with Nechama - Jewish Response to Disaster, I gladly said yes. Nechama—which means “comfort” in Hebrew—is the only on the ground disaster relief organization with a Jewish mission. Nechama responds to the floods and tornadoes that cause damage and disrupt lives in the Midwest each year.

While I work at a non-profit, I spend most of my days at a computer and it’s great to get out into the field and actually participate in some of the missions we spend so much time behind the scenes supporting. But I’m not a tough girl. I don’t like camping or being dirty for long periods of time. I gravitate toward volunteering in soup kitchens not cleaning up polluted beaches.

Apprehensive about my skills and having trouble fathoming what this declared disaster area would look like, I thought about my own limited understanding of a flood, which involves my parents’ basement, a sump pump, and some new carpet.

I nervously boarded the bus with the other volunteers. Our group ranged in age from 18 to 60. There was a rabbi, a few students fresh out of school, someone who had just moved to Chicago and several businessmen. A few of the volunteers had experience with disaster clean up and had made trips down south to areas decimated by Katrina, but for most of us this was a first.

To my surprise, the house we worked on was nine long blocks from the river, on a typical middle class street northwest of downtown Cedar Rapids. The whole area was a ghost town--not one person inhabited a home for blocks.



Some of the volunteers receiving training before entering the home

We arrived around noon. Dressed in our worst clothing, facemasks, eye goggles, gloves and hard hats, we entered a house covered in mold. The walls were rotting, all the appliances and tile floors were covered in thick, dark scum and the carpets had turned black. We began by removing the carpets with glorified exacto knives. We had to cut through not only the carpet, but the thick layer of mold that had grown on top of it. The walls came down next. You could mark the water level by the mold that rose nine-feet high on the walls.

We hammered through the drywall and cracked through the next layer of wood. Most of the two days of labor involved pulling out the wood, drywall, and insulation, and sweeping and removing the contents of the home. Even with a large group it was a long, labor intensive job.



One of the volunteers pulling up the carpeting



One of the volunteers ripping out insulation

"These home owners lost everything and they don't know where to begin to repair their homes," says Rachel Friedman, TOV program associate and an Iowa volunteer. "We as volunteers were able to come in with the proper tools supplied by Nechama and remove everything damaged by the flood to give the family back a house that can be rebuilt."



“I’ve never seen anything like this,” says Lindsey Bissett, another volunteer. “The whole house is ruined. We kept removing layer after layer of flooring and walls and still the water was there and the damage goes throughout the home. I feel so bad for this family.”



While we never got to meet the homeowners of this particular house, several of us were able to speak to another family that lived a few doors down.

Residents Plan for the Future

Charles and Florence Jacobs, a retired couple with six children, own three of the homes on the street. They live together in one and rent out the other two.



The Jacobs' home

“We were told to leave 20 minutes after 10 a.m. on May 25,” says Florence Jacobs. “We spent days bouncing between our children’s homes wondering what was happening to our homes. My husband ended up in the hospital for a week due to sheer stress.”

In a way, they were lucky; their homes are now safe enough to enter- unlike the home we were working on. But while they are allowed inside, five months after the flood they still don’t know where to begin to fix the damage.

And, they say that the government hasn’t been able to give them much guidance. “The city is looking to the state which in turn is looking to the federal government to tell them what to do,” says Florence Jacobs.

In the meantime, the Jacobses return to their homes each week to mow the lawn and keep the yard raked. Looking toward the future, they plan to plow when winter rolls around and say that the neighbors will do the same.

But Charles and Florence are split on exactly what the future will bring. Florence wants to sell (the street is littered with For Sale and Do Not Trespass signs) while Charles has already applied for a building permit to start rebuilding one of the homes.



One of the many houses for sale on the block

“The last time we flooded was in ’93 and it came up to the third step in the basement. There hasn’t been a situation like this since the 1800’s,” says Charles Jacobs. He estimates that just to rewire the electricity and install a new furnace in one home will cost him $16,000.

Florence worries it will happen again and if they move back they will be one of the few.   She recently attended a neighbors meeting where the consensus was “Don’t go back, don’t rebuild.”

Dan Hoeft, one of the mission’s Nechama volunteers and a trained emergency management worker, explains that he often experiences this “I just give up” mentality from homeowners. “We see so many homeowners who just walk away because they can’t deal with it,” he says. “We clean [the home], we pressure wash it out and we sanitize it and they get a fresh start. They can go in and start from scratch and rebuild.”

But it’s a slow process. “With a group this size, we could complete three to four houses a week,” Hoeft says. “We have three tool trailers and one supply trailer. These trailers have everything to handle floods and tornados. We have everything from chainsaws to sump pumps, everything you could need to get the job done.”

Volunteers Rally but Need Support

For the 5,000 homes just in Cedar Rapids, the cleanup process would take months at a rate of three to four homes per week. And even if that approach was best, FEMA has to assess each house before volunteers can get in and start working—and FEMA assessments can take months.

“After a storm hits, FEMA inspects all the houses before we can touch them,” says Sam Shiffman, the other Nechama volunteer. “It determines which houses are too hard hit and which houses can possibly be salvaged. The process can take several years before a decision is made and, in the meantime, this is some families’ only equity.”

It would be easy to get discouraged by the pace at which people receive the help they need but Shiffman is proud of the work Nechama does and optimistic about the group’s ability to get people back into their homes faster.

“The level of destruction is catastrophic and clean up is a very complicated process. Ideally, in keeping with Jewish values, we’d rather come in anonymously and get the work done and get out. But part of the healing process for the victims is to say thanks. They start crying as they shake your hands. We made a real difference in these people’s lives.”

This rang true for the Jacobses, who repeatedly complimented us all for making the trip from Chicago to help their community out. They said that there had been many people like us and it was wonderful for them to see how much people care.

I know that many of the volunteers enjoyed working on the home and would have readily stayed longer to work on another site. Now, just a few days after the mission, I am aware that Ike is barreling down on Galveston and parts of Houston, Texas. I just checked The Nechama Web site—the group has already begun preparations to travel down to the devastated areas to begin another daunting clean up process.

Despite my not being a tough girl and distaste for getting dirty, the emotional reward was so great that I may sign up and head down to Houston to help out.

To donate to the Jewish Federation’s relief fund,  click here . Fore more information about Nechama, check out the Web site at  http://www.nechama.org/index.html  

FOUR STARS, ONE AND ALL!

Stacey reviews some of her favorites and yours

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in general, only rarely do your day in and day out dining choices ever get reviewed anywhere. With limited space, reviewers tend to focus on what’s new, what’s hot, what just opened or which fancy chef has blown into town. Sure, now and again you might see one of your regular haunts mentioned in a Best Of article, but really, does that get you through a Tuesday night when you are looking for something that requires neither a reservation nor much brain power? The places you can plug into your cell to order on your way home from work? Special occasion restaurants are great, especially if your folks are in town or you’re on an expense account. But if you have tumbleweeds in your fridge, can’t bear the idea of one more “rice and tuna” night, and some of your own go-to places are boring you a bit, here are some of mine. They aren’t new or flashy, they are stalwart and dependable. Delicious food, available quickly and at a reasonable price. In no particular order:

1. It’s All Greek to Me
The Athenian Room
Dine in and pick up
807 W. Webster
773-348-5155

I’ve been both dining in and picking up at this Lincoln Park location for essentially my whole life. Craving gyros? Theirs are the best, well spiced and moist, with bits of crispiness, served on a tender chewy pita with thick tzatziki. But for my money, the skirt steak dinner is one of the best in the city, and comes with a huge portion of Greek fries and a Greek salad with feta. In the winter, soups alternate daily between avgolemono, the traditional egg lemon soup, and a navy bean, both thick and hearty and perfect for a blistering Chicago night.  The Athenian chicken is also a standout, moist meat and crisp skin, the salads are well sized and fresh, and my mom thinks they have the best burger in the city…an odd choice in a Greek restaurant, but only until you taste it. Don’t look for Greektown specialties, no moussaka here, but trust me, you’ll be glad for the limited menu, since everything is so great, you don’t want to make your decision any harder than it already will be.

2. Tico Me Elmo
Irazu
Dine in, delivery and pick up  (cash only)
1865 N. Milwaukee
773-252-5687

Unless you’ve had the pleasure of visiting Costa Rica, and if you have not I strongly suggest putting it on your list, you might not be familiar with the simple pleasures of Tico cuisine.  But its time to change that.  Irazu is a tiny hole in the wall that packs a huge culinary punch.  Want to try the Costa Rican specialties?  Start with the patacones, twice fried sweet plantains served with a garlic black bean dip.  For dinner, go for the traditional Casado dinner, your choice of chicken or rib eye seasoned to perfection with caramelized onions, and served with rice, the best black beans in the city, sweet plantains, cabbage salad and an over easy egg.  The menu is full of gems like this, but also has an extensive selection of Mexican influenced dishes, superior burritos and the special Taco Tico, and a wide selection of vegetarian options.  The shakes are amazing, and you’ll have to trust me that the oatmeal version is out of this world.  They do breakfast as well, and the Gallo Pinto, rice and beans served with eggs and plantains, will undo whatever damage you might have done to yourself the night before.  The family owned place is always bustling, service is quick and efficient, and even if you don’t call in your order ahead, take out takes no time at all.  Sometimes I just swing by to pick up side orders of their yellow rice and black beans to pair with whatever I thawed out for dinner.  The best part, it is pretty easy to make healthy choices here, so it can be a guiltless pleasure.

3. A Slice of Heaven
Homemade Pizza Company
Delivery and Pick up
5303 N Clark  773-561-8800, 3430 N. Southport 773-529-5900, 3314 N. Broadway 773-549-2100, 850 W. Armitage  773-248-2900, 1953 W. Wabansia 773-342-9600, 1546 E. 55th 773-493-2000

Okay, I know they are relative newcomers to the Chicago pizza scene, and all they sell is thin crust, which in some circles is sacrilege…and I would never tell you to abandon Lou Malnati’s for deep dish or Bacino’s for stuffed, since I never would. But for thin crust, I promise you, once you bake your own, you’ll never go back. Homemade dough, a zillion possible topping combinations, mini pizzas for the kids and huge cookies you can bake off for an after-dinner treat, this is total genius. If you’ve never been, you can either pick up or have delivered the pizza of your choice. Raw. Yep, no ovens in these hotspots, you provide the heat. Want to know what’s great about that? EVERYTHING!  The pizzas cook in 15 minutes in a 425 degree oven, so if you preheat after you order, you’ll make quick work of the cooking once it arrives, and you’ll have your pizza palate-scorchingly hot the way its meant to be. No special equipment is needed; your pizza bakes on a piece of included parchment right on the rack of your oven. Want the crust crispier? Leave it in longer. Guests coming over? You can wait to pop the pies in until they arrive. Last minute phone call for dinner plans from pals? Leave in the fridge for a day, or pop in the freezer for the next craving. My fave topping combos:  sausage, red onion, and fresh roma tomatoes, or bacon, sweet Vidalia onion and fontina. And the whole wheat crust is actually good if you’re trying to be healthier.

4. Turning Japanese
Hachi’s Kitchen
Dine in, pick up and delivery
2521 N. California
773-276-8080

I don’t like sushi. I’m picky about my seafood consumption in general, but while I can choke down a piece of raw fish if I have to, it just has never been my thing. (And before you recommend the California Roll, I should also admit that I think seaweed tastes like fish food smells, and I just can’t do it.)  It saddens me, since I love most other Japanese food, and I find sitting at a sushi bar and watching a skilled chef make little jewels of food endlessly fascinating. Just don’t ask me to eat it. But most everyone these days does eat sushi, and this is the perfect place to accommodate all tastes. I have brought my pickiest sushi connoisseurs who tell me that it is some of the best they have ever had. Apparently this thing called a Spicy White Tuna Crunch is beyond dreamy, and the rolls and pieces are perfectly fresh and delightful. For me, I always struggle between the chicken teriyaki, not a throwaway dish here, perfectly cooked moist chicken in a light coating of homemade sauce, and the sea bass, pan seared and served in a soy jalapeno broth with spinach. The tempura shatters on the tongue, the udon is the ideal thing to have when one of those nasty colds settles into your chest, the gyoza are little pillows of perfect, and the sake and wine list is impressive. Hachi’s is owned by the same chef as Sai Café in Lincoln Park. It’s a beautiful room to dine in, but they also do pick up and delivery. If you’re a sushi freak, you won’t be disappointed, and if you aren’t, your sushi freak friends will be really impressed that you found this place…and you’ll have plenty to choose from that won’t make you feel like a second class citizen.

5. Pub Grub
Four Moon Tavern
Dine in and pick up
1847 W. Roscoe
773-929-6666

There was a time that you could find me at this cozy Roscoe Village bar more than you could find me at home. This was directly related to the particular husband I had at home at the time, which is a story for another day. But even though I now have no reason to avoid my living room, if I’m meeting up with friends for a drink and a bite, I still head over to enjoy the kick ass jukebox, generous drinks, and superior bar food. Four Moon has the best grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever tasted, served with a homemade tomato soup for excellent dunking. The burgers are huge and moist, the onion rings addictive, and the chicken tenders (a food I usually think should be reserved for the under 12 set) are beyond delicious, served with both ranch dressing and a chipotle bbq sauce for dreamy dipping. I’m addicted to the chicken gyros, and the sloppy Joes will take you back to your childhood in all the best possible ways. They even do a mean brunch on the weekends with serious Bloody Mary’s and even more serious food, including a version of eggs benedict with crab cakes. Plus they have a pool table. I mean, what’s cooler than that?

6. The Most Important Meal of the Day
Toast
Dine in
746 W. Webster  773-935-5600, 2046 N. Damen 773-772-5600

I’m not much of a breakfast person, at least not at normal breakfast time. I’d rather be sleeping. But breakfast food any other time of the day is fine by me, and this place never disappoints. Eggs how you like them, decadent French toast and pancake creations, even some great lunch food options for your dining companions who may have already had breakfast once that day. Ask for the bacon crispy, and don’t pass up the home fries!

7.  Philadelphia Freedom
Philly’s Best
Delivery and pick up (online ordering available)
907 W. Belmont  773-525-7900, 769 W. Jackson 312-715-9800, 2436 N. Milwaukee 773-276-1900, 815 Emerson, Evanston, 847-733-9000

I’m a Chicago girl, so in general, if I’m eating beef sandwiches, I want them steamy and spicy and dipped twice, and keep the cheese far far away. But I went to college in Boston, which had Steak and Cheese Subs, chopped seasoned roast beef piled in a roll with gobs of melted white American cheese. At least 32% of my Freshman Forty could be directly attributed to these subs. I always assumed, for some erroneous reasons, that I wouldn’t like Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches. I think I was haunted by those 1970’s Steak-Umms commercials, and just never tried one. Plus I ‘ve only been to Philadelphia once for a weekend, and the people I was visiting never suggested we try one. You can imagine my surprised delight when my friend Jen informed me that the Philly’s Best Cheese Steaks she waxed poetical about were really just my beloved Steak and Cheese Subs!   The fact that they are the only place in the city that manages to also deliver onion rings still crispy (how do they DO that?) and that they deliver till midnight makes them dangerous and sublime all at once.

My family’s go-to Chinese take out, Far East, appears to have abandoned us after forty years.  I am adrift.  I am uneasy in the world.  I am a Jew without a favorite Chinese place to deliver my Sunday night meal.  (it should be important to note that the luncheon buffet at my bat mitzvah was Chinese, so this is SERIOUS distress I’m in!)  Anyone who has a great place to recommend, (must deliver to the Logan Square area), please help a girl out….

I’m sure you all have your faves as well, don’t leave us in the dark…be sure to post the info below!!!

Yours in good taste,
Stacey

www.staceyballis.com

NOSH of the week:  Manny’s Delicatessen has finally, after 66 glorious years of breakfast and lunches, is OPEN FOR DINNER!  Shut. Up. The world’s best corned beef sandwich, piled high and served with an enormous potato pancake, matzo ball soup like you wish mom could make, classic steam table delicacies and enormous salads. And chocolate pudding. Seriously. Go. At once. It’s the right thing to Jew.
1141 S. Jefferson at Roosevelt  312-939-2855 

NOSH Food read of the week:   Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain

Joanna's sister Lisa, a mammographer, teaches Joanna how to read a mammogram. Photo credit: Ines Sommer

Joanna Rudnick doesn’t wake up every morning thinking, “today’s the day I will get cancer.” But the documentary filmmaker does live with the knowledge that she’s more likely to develop cancer than other women her age, in part because of her heritage.

The media first started linking Ashkenazi Jewish women with increased cancer risk in a National Institute of Health study released in 1995—nine years after both Rudnick’s mother and Gilda Radner were diagnosed with ovarian cancer. “In my mind, as a kid, 1986 was the year of ovarian cancer,” she says. “No one talked much about it before and suddenly it was on the cover of People magazine.”

Joanna, age 4, with her mother Cookie, an ovarian cancer survivor.

When she was 27, Rudnick had a genetic test that would shake her personal life to the core and shape her professional one. Her doctor told her that because of a mutation in her BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes, she has an 85 percent lifetime risk of breast cancer and a 60 percent lifetime risk of developing ovarian cancer. Compared with the general population’s 12 percent risk for breast cancer and 1 percent risk for ovarian, these numbers are staggering.

Rudnick began her personal process of dealing with the test result and the public process of making a documentary about women with BRCA genetic mutations. In the Family will air on P.O.V., PBS' award-winning independent non-fiction film series, on October 1 and Rudnick will appear as a guest on both John Callaway and Nightline in conjunction with the film's showing.

While far from a cancer diagnosis, a positive result leaves women with two almost unfathomable options: careful surveillance, which can leave some women feeling as if their body is a ticking time bomb, or the surgical removal of breasts and/or ovaries, which is physically and emotionally harrowing. Even though both options are frightening, Rudnick believes having a choice is better than not knowing. “It’s empowering to know that there are things you can do,” she says.

As Rudnick was weighing her own options, staying behind the scenes proved impossible. She had found support in a wonderful community of women—all races, mostly older, some with cancer and some without, all with BRCA gene mutations—but didn’t know another person in her situation: young, single, without children and hoping to have them. For her, surgery was off the table. To tell a full story, she had to include herself in the film.

“It sounds like sci-fi. To call a friend and say, ‘I have a BRCA gene mutation’ is weird. You’re not likely to hear, ‘oh yeah, me too.’ At 27 it separates you from your peer group and it’s overwhelming,” she explains. That gap in understanding, she hopes, can be bridged by communication. “We are moving in this direction [the ability to get genetic information] in public health and need to figure out how to create space and language for all of us dealing with a genetic predisposition,” Rudnick says.

Even as more stories are told, many women avoid getting tested because they fear the results or are concerned about insurance discrimination. A CNN/Time magazine poll found that 70 percent of respondents would not want to provide information about their genetic codes to insurance providers. While there haven’t been any lawsuits to date, there is no national law protecting people from genetic discrimination. “The fear really is insidious and keeps women from finding out,” Rudnick says.  Both In the Family and its corresponding outreach program aim to quell such fears by empowering women with information. She knows firsthand how powerful information can be.

Rudnick never considered surgery when she first tested positive. But after connecting with other women, losing a friend to cancer during the filming process, and visiting another whose cancer has returned, she’s now open to the possibility. “Ovary removal after childbearing is probably an option for me in the future, but the decision is a process,” she says.

In addition to thinking about her future, Rudnick has been thinking a lot about her past. She says that looking at her family history and receiving support from both the Chicago Center for Jewish Genetic Disorders and the Jewish Women’s Foundation has connected her to her roots in a profound way. “I started thinking a lot about where I am from and who I am. I reached out to Jewish Women’s Foundation [for funding] because the population with BRCA mutations is full of pioneering Jewish women. We’re the first population going through this and can spearhead the education of others. I wanted to partner with the pillars of this community,” she explains.

When she thinks back to that 1986 People magazine cover, Rudnick recognizes the media’s power to connect with the public and get people talking. Documentaries like “In the Family” are vital because what you hear in a sound bite isn’t the whole story, and one woman’s story isn’t every woman’s story. For women to be empowered with choices, information must be accessible, health care providers educated and concerns about discrimination addressed.

More than any news article, her mother’s survival has influenced Rudnick. “My mom surviving ovarian cancer has strongly impacted the decisions I have made so far. The media often pits one choice against the other. Early on, surgery was seen as drastic and today it seems like that’s the applauded response. But living with the BRCA mutation is way more complicated than that. There’s no magic pill or easy way out,” Rudnick says, “but I am convinced that this knowledge saves lives and that’s very humbling.”

Now on permanent maternity leave, Lisa has more time for the men in her life

This is what I did today—on a Thursday. I went to the pool. I went to the park, I played cars. My 3-year-old little boy and I pretended that we were firefighters (the baby got to drive the truck). I watched so much Bob the Builder that the theme song has become my internal soundtrack (I am humming it as I write). I changed so many diapers I’m beginning to think that everyone should wear them (great for people on the go!). I met my mother for lunch.

Last June, nearly three months after my younger son was born, I took a nose dive off the career map. I left my job, and I am now on permanent maternity leave.

I have had two careers during my life as a working person--one as a newspaper and wire service reporter, the most recent as a writer in JUF’s Marketing Communications Department. I have been working and supporting myself since I graduated from college and, for the most part, have been able to say that I loved the work I was doing. It was very scary to make a choice that might conceivably end my working life. Like just about everyone who leaves a job to stay at home with children, I say that I will go back to work when they are in school, that this is just a short hiatus, that I’ve worked long enough that I deserve a break, that I am on sabbatical.

The reality is the longer I stay home, the bigger the gap on my resume, the harder it will be to find a job, the less tolerance I will have for commuting and office issues like who left the coffee pot empty. When (if) I do revamp my resume, it will for a position several rungs lower on the career ladder.

And I don’t care.

I have two very hard won children (exactly how hard is the subject for another blog), and I want to enjoy them. I look at my 3-year-old’s lanky little boy body, and I want to stay home with my two sons until they’re too big to fit in my lap (or too old to want to). They’re small for such a short amount of time.

I never thought I would do this, leave work and be supported by my husband (also a subject for another day). I always figured that when/if I had kids I would continue working. My life would be in perfect equilibrium, balancing the social usefulness, intellectual stimulation and economic renumeration of a job with the “joys” of motherhood, Ha!

There is no such thing as balance, although women like to talk too much about achieving it. After working all day, I was too exhausted and there was not much left for my husband or the kids, much less the house (I’m a terrible housekeeper; when my son asked me the other day what “dust” is, I was able to show him plenty of real-life examples). After dealing with my kids, there wasn’t much left over for work. And there never seemed to be any time for me. 

And I can talk about logistics like time and dirt but the other truth is that I like the idea of making a home for my family. I like having time to tend a garden. I like to hang around with my 3-year-old, who is pretty good company, and kiss the baby’s fat little neck and tickle his toes. I feel fortunate to have the choice to stay home and do these things.

But I admit, I was a little worried that I might start to lose my mind—not in that 1950s housewife way but in the I haven’t talked to an adult all day way. Here I am, five months into my permanent maternity leave, and I’m not brain dead, at least I don’t think so. I am not bored, although I’m sure to a lot of people my life seems pretty monotonous and to some, A Fate Worse Than Death!

I am not a mommy zombie, a career girl or the superwoman we’re all told it’s possible to be, but I am happy with my full-time position as mom.

For Steve, it's easy being green

Steve Green is a networking extraordinaire. As President of GO Green Management, he attends at least two networking events every night of the week, in addition to coordinating his own monthly event. After 10 years at a sales job, Steve decided to take on a career that would make more of an impact on both his community and the environment. GO Green Management is a marketing and public relations firm with a commitment and passion to spreading the word on what it means to be “green friendly.”

So, whether you are looking to make some new connections, you’re a fan of Jewish sing-a-longs or you think it’s cool to be green, Steve Green is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be Jerry Maguire and represent talented people. I always had many interests, and representing different industries allowed me to be involved in many different cool companies. I also love to network and meet a lot of interesting people.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love that I have the opportunity to help people grow their business and take their careers to the next level. I also have a commitment to building an eco-friendly networking community that allows people to GO Green! Since my name is Green and my company is GO Green Management, it seemed like a perfect fit.

3. What are you reading?
I am reading a book called Conscious Golf (the three secrets of success in business, life and golf ). I love golf and I feel that it teaches you a lot about life.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
1. Shaw’s - the best seafood in town
2. Bandera - the best cornbread around
3. Toro Sushi - the best sushi in town

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
I would invent a pill that cured all diseases. Health and wellness are the keys to happiness!

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
I would like to be invisible so I can … eavesdrop. It would be great to hear what people say without them knowing that you are there.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
I wouldn't really call it a guilty pleasure but I am a country music fanatic. I love the country!

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago – in other words, how do you Jew?
How do I Jew...Well I love singing Jewish songs, going to temple on the High Holidays and attending JUF functions.

I am born and raised in Chicago and I am very proud of being a true city boy. I love Chicago!

Don’t miss GO Green’s next networking event, Thursday, September 18, at the Victor Hotel. Meet with 300+ business professionals and enjoy cocktails provided by 10 of Chicago’s finest bars. For more information, visit  www.gogreenmanagement.com .

Taking a break after an eye-opening discussion about Jewish identity at the statue of the great Jewish philosopher and physician Moises ben Maimon (also known as Maimonides or Rambam) in Cordoba

Seven cities. Seven days. Fifty people. In a nutshell, that’s the recent Jewish heritage adventure in which 36 Russian-speaking Jewish young professionals from Chicago, six peers from Kyiv, Ukraine, and eight  staff members explored Spain, Gibraltar and Morocco from Aug. 17 to 25.

The trip is the brainchild of Nadya Strizhevskaya, U.S. project manager for the Genesis Philanthropy Group, which sponsored the adventure as part of its belief that “informed and engaged Russian-speaking Jews will enrich their communities and strengthen the Jewish people.”

“It’s a similar concept to birthright,” Nadya told Olga Shalman and me over dinner one night in February. “It’s about exploring Jewishness through travel.” In the end, as the trip madrichim (Hebrew for group leaders), Olga and I received 60 applications and selected 36 participants with prior leadership and international experience as well as a commitment to create programs for the Russian Jewish community. 

Dubbed “Davai!” – Russian for “Let’s Go!” – the trip showed that there’s more to Spain than gilded churches, flamenco and corrida. Jewish history abounds, and this group of Davainiks explored more than just crumbling synagogues and bronze busts throughout the cities we visited. The discussions –on the bus on the way from one historic spot to another or sangria in hand at a late-night café – planted the seed for self-realization.

Day 1

Twelve hours after setting out from Chicago, the group finally arrived in Madrid-Barajas to be whisked to the hotel for a brief rest. Then, it was headfirst into exploring the city. Madrid doesn’t have anything particularly Jewish about it, but the sites are not to be missed. We drove past one of the original city gates, La Puerta de Alcala, past the Prado museum (which we couldn’t get in because museums are closed on Monday), past the Cibeles fountain. We learned about Madrid’s designation as capital in 1561, walked past the Royal Palace and ended up in Plaza Mayor – a cobblestone square that is the center of official life in Madrid.

Then the questions started: How many Jews live in Spain, the number crunchers among us wanted to know. Throughout the entire week, no one could give us an exact number. Turns out, the Spanish government gives tax money to religious organizations in proportion to the number of people officially registered as the religion’s adherents. Spain boasts about 15,000 officially registered Jews, while analysts project a total population of at least 40,000, many of whom are illegal immigrants from North Africa.

Day 2

We left Madrid for Toledo, the ancient fortress that once served as the capital of nascent Spain and remains the seat of the most powerful Catholic Church officials in the country. Until 1492 – the year of the expulsion of Jews and Muslims from Spain – Toledo also had a thriving Jewish population. Though artifacts of that time still remain, today the Jewish population of the city is slim.

Walking into the Transito Synagogue, the first thing visitors encounter is a large stand with the question “What is a synagogue?” However unfamiliar with Judaism our group might have been, we all know the purpose of a synagogue, and this reminder of an entire population who might have never heard about Jews and our houses of worship was a powerful message. The synagogue is an incongruous mixture of styles: The ornamentation is representative of the “Mudejar” style – vines and flowers in faded reds and greens adorn the walls, while the crests of the Spanish kingdoms of Castilla and Leon sit alongside ornate Hebrew inscriptions. As most non-Christian houses of worship, the Toledan synagogues were converted into churches and later restored as museums.

The group studies poetry and Maimonides’ proclamations at the Jewish museum in Toledo

The courtyard of the synagogue museum was the perfect spot for a bit of light reading and our first attempts at hevruta – a method of studying text in pairs where argument reigns supreme. Guided by David Shneer, Associate Professor of Jewish Studies at the University of Colorado at Boulder, who developed the education portion of the trip, the group read Maimonides’ suggestions for the “cures of the diseases of the soul” as an introduction to Jewish identity exploration. We talked about combining different sides of one’s life – like Maimonides, the philosopher and physician who was one of Jewish Spain’s most important figures before being forced to flee to Fez, in modern-day Morocco.

Day 3

Everything Maimonides was the theme of the day in Cordoba, the former capital of the Caliphate of Cordoba. Café Maimonides, hotel Maimonides – you get the picture. The sage once again served as a jumping off point for an open-air discussion of what it means to be Jewish: Russian-Jewish, Jewish-American, Jewish-Ukrainian or a combination of these.  The group yearned for just such a discussion as they struggled to balance their Russian heritage and their American education: “What is Jewish?” asks Gene Rapoport, a trip participant. “We all approach Judaism differently – whether from a religious or a cultural perspective. And while Jewishness is open to interpretation, it’s something we all have in common.”

After the spirited discussion, the Mezquita Catedral – the former mosque turned church – galvanized our taste for history. It took 100 years to build the giant space, which houses marble columns, bricks and other building materials from around the Mediterranean. The Mezquita was our last stop before heading to Granada. We climbed the fortress in the Alhambra complex, strolled through the Generalife gardens and took a night-time tour of the Mudejar-style palace, where the city’s rulers used to live. Throughout it all, the group marveled at the beauty of the carved walkways and arches that have survived centuries of war, siege and disuse.

Twelfth-century Hebrew inscriptions were uncovered when the last remaining synagogue in Granada became a museum in the middle of the twentieth century

Day 4

Our journey continued to Sevilla, the largest city in the southern province of Andalucia and the site of the most fervent persecution of Jews in the 15th and 16th Centuries. In fact, the only reminder of a once-thriving Jewish population is a sign for the Juderia (Jewish Quarter) that no longer exists. Our tour guide wondered why we were even seeking the Jewish sites in a city that refurbished the Jewish Quarter into the Holy Cross Quarter and erected a church on the plaza formerly housing a synagogue. Much like visiting run-down shtetls, Sevilla became a powerful reminder of lost generations and the need to explore and preserve Jewishness.

Day 5

In comparison to the 20 Jewish families living in the Sevillian sprawl, the 4,000-strong Gibraltar Jewish community was welcome news. Our Ukrainian participants had minor trouble at the border of the British territory that required a return visit to passport control, but once that was settled the group set out to explore The Rock. We climbed into St. Michael’s Cave, a network of limestone caves where two Neanderthal skulls were discovered. We also played with the Barbary Apes, who roam freely around the Upper Rock Nature Reserve.

But our most exciting moment came with the welcoming of Shabbat. Some participants had experienced Shabbat only as birthright participants or knew only the outlines of the rituals, while others had led prayers before. As testament to the group’s do-Judaism-your-own-way philosophy, our mostly secular group chose to sing parts of the Kabbalat Shabbat service, with some participants leading the prayers as group member and guitarist Vova Kuperman played along. The feeling of togetherness in a Jewish setting made for what one formerly Orthodox participant called “the most meaningful Shabbat experience” of her life.

Day 6

As the traditional day of rest, Shabbat was hardly packed with activity. After a morning hike, most participants lounged on the beach. Havdalah and a closing session brought everyone together for reflections and planning our next ventures. Four women and a man held havdalah candles, bringing the Shabbat light to the entire circle. Performed in the courtyard of the Garrison Library – one of the oldest military archives in Great Britain and the personal home of Admiral Nelson – the Havdalah ritual also marked a moment of meditation on our place in the Jewish community.

A spirited Havdalah provided the perfect closing note to our adventure

In the tradition of birthright and weekend retreats, each participant spoke about what they would take away from our adventure: a deeper commitment to Jewishness, a sense of community, a realization that Judaism takes many forms, new friendships and plans for action at home. As David Shneer put it, participants “are coming away from this trip knowing that Jewish life happens wherever they are.”

Day 7

Having closed one chapter of our trip, we headed to Tangier, Morocco, which seemed like an alternate reality to the tidy, utterly British Gibraltar. Divided into the medinah (old city) and the new, industrialized parts, Tangier leaped at us with ancient cobble-stone streets, street peddlers selling everything from spices to purses to fresh figs, and, predictably a Rue Synagogue (Synagogue Street), which no longer houses any synagogues. Although some Jews do live in Morocco, many have left for Israel, Europe and the States – another potent symbol of the cyclical nature of the Jewish experience.

What’s next?

Our swift journey – the first of its kind for Russian-speaking Jews – barely skimmed the surface of Spain’s Jewish heritage, but the purpose of the trip wasn’t just to learn about history. As a madricha, I like to think that our group came away with a deeper understanding of what it means to be Jewish – however we define Judaism and Jewishness for ourselves. We also came away with plans for reunions, events and programs that could bring other Russian-speaking Jews closer to the Jewish community and make them feel that they belong in the Jewish world.

If you want to participate in upcoming Davai! events or want more information, check out the Davai! page on Facebook.

Polly, on the other side of the long bus ride

I recently returned from a JUF Mission to Israel, which was great. But this story isn’t about The Wall, the Dead Sea, or the falafel, although they all deserve a shout-out.

I’d extended my trip and decided to go up north to the Golan region with Melanie, a new friend I met on the Mission. We were going to Kfar Blum, a hotel on a kibbutz, where we could go white water rafting, hiking and biking. After this hectic trip, I just wanted to sit, but I pretended to be all athletic-y as the arrangements were made.

But this story takes place even before we got there.

The day after the Mission ended, we went to the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem, bought our cheese and olive sandwiches, and boarded the bus for the long ride to Kiryat Shmona.

And this is where the story begins.

I sat with Melanie. An orthodox woman in front of us had two kids with her, a 4 year-old boy and a baby girl. As soon as she spoke to her son, we knew she was born in the U.S.

We started talking. She’s from a conservative family in Long Island, and came to Israel for the first time at 19.

She made aliyah at 22 and was given a choice of ulpans to attend, not religious, or orthodox.

She chose orthodox, which clearly shaped her life. She got married, and in addition to these two kids, has four more at home. When asked how many she wanted, she said, “As many as come.”

My guess is she’ll have 14 kids. Although a few sets of twins would really get her numbers up. How dramatic if her last pregnancy was triplets? And what if she also became a grandmother on that very day?

Back to the actual conversation.

“So,” she said, “are you married?“

Nope, we said. Not yet. Just haven’t found the right guy. But hopefully, someday. Big smile, followed by little giggle to illustrate positive attitude … and scene.

She asked why it was so difficult to meet guys in Chicago. We shrugged. She suggested we move to another city.

“I’ve moved for a relationship,” Melanie said, “and it didn’t work out. I’m not doing that again. I’ll move for work, but not a guy.”

“I’ve lived in another city, too,” I said, “and it was just as hard there, so I don’t think Chicago’s the problem. It’s hard to meet someone that you connect with no matter where you are.”

The orthodox woman – we never found out her name, so I’ll call her Bracha instead of “the orthodox woman” – said it doesn’t have to be so hard; if you want to get married, you get married.

Melanie said, “I want to marry for love, not just to be married. I’m not getting divorced.”

“So you assume you’ll get divorced, instead of working on a marriage?” asked Bracha.

As the conversation turned to pre-nups, I looked around to see who else was on the bus. It was the only way to walk away from a conversation while on a moving vehicle.

There was a woman sitting on the armrest of the seat behind me, talking to people across the aisle. I later learned they were her sister, baby niece and mother.

This woman smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Shalom,” I said.

In accented English, she asked “Where are you from?”

“Chicago,” I said. “Illinois. In America. You?”

“Jerusalem,” she said.

I said, “I’m glad you speak English, because I don’t really speak Hebrew.”

“Me, either,” she said. “I speak English and Arabic.”

Here’s the Israeli experience we paid our 57 shekels for: An ultra-orthodox Jewish woman in front of us, an Arab woman behind us. They never acknowledged each other.

“My husband and kids are here, too,” said the Arab woman – I’ll call her Taaj, because it’s Arabic and I like it – as she gestured to the back of the bus. “He’s visiting from Virginia. He works in a restaurant.” Every year, he visits for a month, she goes there for a month.

“So,” she said, “how do you like Palestine?”

She said it with a twinkle in her eye. It was a conscious choice of words.

I rejected my first instinct, which was to say “Palestine? You mean Israel? It’s only awesome.” That may come across as sarcastic and/or glib. Given that I wasn’t 14 and this wasn’t my mom, it seemed like the wrong approach.

But if I said, “It’s beautiful,” then I’d be tacitly confirming that this land is called Palestine. So I said:
“This is a really beautiful country.”

By saying “this,” I was referring the actual land that is Israel. Of course, she referred to “this” land as Palestine, so the subtle distinction I was making may be lost on her, but crunched for time, I went with it.

I turned back to Melanie as Bracha said, “Marriage is a lifelong commitment, the most important relationship of your life. Your husband must come first, before your kids.”

”I disagree,” said Melanie. “My kids would always come before my husband.”

I chimed in: “That’s a hard one, but I’ve heard that if parents put each other first so they each feel valued and important, then that can only be better for the kids.”

Watching Seal and Heidi Klum tell Oprah the secret to their dreamy marriage has certainly come in handy. I sound so wise.

“My kids would always come before my husband,” said Melanie. “No question.”

Oy.

I turned back around to Taaj.

“That’s Jenin,” she said as she pointed into the distance. “Arab city.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded. “That’s nice.”

“Arabs,” Taaj said again. “The whole city.” I’m glad she elaborated, because “Arab city,” wasn’t descriptive enough.

I turned to hear Melanie say, “But why should I have to give up a career I love in order to be with a man? I may not get married, so isn’t that even more of a reason to have a great career, so I can take care of myself?”

Bracha said, “But you are incomplete without a man. A man completes you.”

Oh no she di’int!

Would it be wrong to fling myself into the overhead storage compartment? If it went smoothly, it seemed the perfect way to disappear. If it didn’t, watching me pull myself up into the bin could get awkward. Dammit! I’m doomed by my inability to do a pull-up! I could stand on the chair back for leverage. Or I could get a boost from someone. Bracha’s 4 year-old looks sturdy… although his glasses are pretty thick. If those suckers fell off, he’d be no help at all.

A quick, quiet getaway seemed unlikely. So there I sat.

Melanie said, “I don’t need a man to feel complete.”

For the record, I agreed with almost everything Melanie said, but it seemed beyond frustrating to convince Bracha – who had rejected an upbringing probably similar to our own – that we were actually complete beings without a man. She would quote the Torah, we’d quote common sense and a few self-help books, voices would be raised, and we’d all be incredibly annoyed.

I turned back to Taaj.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Kiryat Shmona, then taking a cab to a kibbutz for a few days,” I said.

Please don’t ask me where, please don’t ask me where.

I was suddenly worried about giving her too much information. Then I was annoyed with myself for being worried. Did I really think that Taaj, her husband, 3 kids, sister, niece, and elderly mother would follow us? We’re just not that interesting.

Still… please don’t ask me where I’m going…

“That’s near Lebanon,” she said.

“Yep,” I said. “I know.”

“Lebanon,” she said again, with that same twinkle. “But you’ll be fine.”

She said this as though she called Lebanon and asked it not to bother us. Taaj loves freaking me out.

Her 9 year-old daughter came over to sit with her.

Scanning brain for generic topic… got it:
“Do you like Hannah Montana?” I asked her.

She said yes just as we pulled into a rest stop.

I paid my sheckel for the bathroom and used that time to strategize. Here’s the situation:
We have Bracha disappointed that it’s 2008 and women are complete beings, and Taaj gleefully telling me about the Arab-ness of the region. Neither conversation was remotely appealing.

I could talk to Taaj’s daughter about Hannah Montana, but really, what’s left to say?

There was only one solution.

When we got back on the bus, I took a nap.

Polly Levy spent 8 years in Los Angeles where she wrote for Suddenly Susan, and was a Script Coordinator for Frasier, Gilmore Girls and some other TV shows no one has ever heard of.

Now living in Chicago, she is a Senior Content Producer at NogginLabs, where she writes online e-learning courses. In addition, she freelances for the website development company Azavar Technologies.

“Trust” 2008, Acrylic Painting

I began painting Judaic themes after my experience in the 2004 South East Asia Tsunami during which I was holidaying in Thailand. The Tsunami opened my eyes to a whole new world of humanity--it was incredible to witness firsthand everyone coming together to help each other. After surviving the Tsunami, my connection with God grew stronger, enabling me to express my passion for Judaism by creating traditional, Judaic art. I am hopeful that my paintings and artwork will inspire others by creating a positive light of energy in their homes.

My designs are vibrant, bold, energetic and colorful. Many of my paintings describe visions of the future, of the world after its final redemption, of a world where peace and joy is expressed. My inspiration is drawn from the colorful people and events that have impacted my life.

Music in Jerusalem

This painting began with a violin player. I wanted to create a musical piece, so I added the rabbi playing the flute, but something was still missing. It was only when I added people praying at the wall that the painting started to make sense. I have carried on this theme of floating. Some of the men do not have legs and are therefore levitating. The music represents their prayers reaching the heavens.

Inside outside 2008

This painting was inspired by one of my favorite artists, Baruch Nachshon. In this painting I have played with the concepts of different layers and levels of seeing things. This is the way life is, especially in the Jewish religion. If you look closer you will notice that everything is connected, though it may not appear that way at first glance.

The two boys represent “learning” as well as the past and the future. I have created a mezuzah scroll that appears to be a torah scroll and inside the scroll is the story.  A young boy is catching the blessings inside the scroll however he is outside the scroll, thus playing with different levels. The boys are looking at a menorah, shown as the Western Wall with the temple as the main candle, and the rest of the flames are coming from pomegranates.

A mezuzah acts as a doorway thus the painting is divided into three parts, the past, present and future and is connected by a rainbow which represents a covenant, or promise, made by God to the Jewish people.

Life 2008

In this painting I have used the flute player to create music in Jerusalem.  The man in the right corner is catching blessings inside a Chamsa. The largest blessing has Hebrew letters inside which translate to “life.”

Taryn Treisman was born in Johannesburg South Africa in 1984. She began painting at an early age and developed her passion for art and artists in her youth. Her paintings are influenced mostly by Fauvism and Expressionism, but also by Art Deco and Pop-Art. After moving to Chicago in April, Taryn become a member of  Lubavitch Chabad of the Loop Gold Coast , where she takes classes that provide her with inspiration. In addition to Jewish themes, she enjoys painting South African themes, depicting Nelson Mandela’s dream of a “rainbow nation”. She hopes to portray South Africa in a positive light and create designs that are full of energy, vibrancy and color.”

For more information please contact Taryn Treisman
Email:  tctreisman@gmail.com

Geri, loving her job 

Geri Bleier and her Beta Fish Bert live in Lincoln Park and when Geri travels—most recently to Connecticut to visit her new nephew Beck—Bert hangs out at Yogaview, where Geri teaches classes five days a week. The full-time yoga instructor grew up in the Detroit suburbs before relocating to Vail, Colorado for six years. After some quality time in the mountains, Geri wanted to be in a city; while in Vail she met Tom Quinn and Quinn Kearney, who offered her a job at their studio here in Chicago.

So whether you’re looking for a good yoga class, you’re a fan of Beta Fish or you’re a proud aunt or uncle, Geri Bleier is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a stewardess so I could travel around the world. I grew out of it when I realized it might not be quite as glamorous as I thought. But I still love to travel. Last winter I was lucky enough to spend time in Mexico and the Caribbean; that was really good.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love everything about teaching yoga. Yoga is such as amazing practice and I love sharing it with people. I love helping people become more aware of their bodies, hearts and spirits. I get to see so much real transformation in people every day. I started my practice when a friend kept bugging me to go to a class. Finally I went with him and loved it from that first class—now I’ve been teaching for 11 years.

3. What are you reading?
I’m reading Barack Obama’s  Audacity of Hope ; I started it a couple of weeks ago.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
My top craving lately is the meatball salad at Café Bionda on Milwaukee. My friend and I text each other “meatball” when we get cravings for it! That’s my favorite thing at the moment, but I go out to eat all of the time so it’s hard to pick just one place.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
I’d love to have an “I Dream of Jeanie”-type device that would transport me and my family members from place to place—we’re all scattered and I would love to see them every week. I miss them very much.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Fly. Why would I want to be invisible? Why would anyone?

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
“Superwoman” by Alicia Keys.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
When I first moved to Chicago I lived in Wrigleyville behind the Jewish cemetery. I don’t have family here and it’s pretty so I used to go hang out there. Now I spend holidays with friends; I typically bring the wine or dessert.

Survivor Polina Kalacheva getting assistance at the Holocaust Reparations Clinic held at the Bernard Horwich Jewish Community Center in Rogers Park on July 24 

In 1943, Edith Stern of Chicago and her parents were forced to leave their home and transported to Terezin (The "Ghetto Theresienstadt") a Nazi-controlled ghetto. There, she worked as a nurse, lived in tight quarters and overcame severe illness, but she was lucky enough to survive and get married. On Sept. 28, 1944, all the men, including her husband, were taken to what they thought were labor camps in Germany. So when the opportunity arose for her mother and her to join them, they eagerly boarded the train. When they instead arrived at Auschwitz, Stern’s mother was sent straight to the gas chambers, but she, having maintained her strength living the ghetto, passed the selection and was sent to a labor camp. Soon after, she discovered—as did the Nazis—that she was pregnant, and was on her way to the gas chambers in Auschwitz when the camp was liberated by the Russians in May of 1945.

Though she had lost her parents, husband and unborn child, Stern persevered, eventually coming to Chicago and starting a family. Having survived through so much, Stern does not let much stop her. But when she needed hearing aids and could not afford them, she knew she needed help. It was then that she noticed a bulletin board ad for new compensation available to survivors. She called Chicago’s Holocaust Community Services (HCS), filled out the application and qualified to receive just over $3,000. And for Stern, this reparation money represented a world of difference.

“It means a lot,” Stern says, adding that despite her hearing problems she is otherwise very healthy. “I could not afford to get the hearing aids before, but now I have them. I was also able to get gifts for my grandchildren.”

Representatives of three major law firms are joining HCS in an effort to locate and assist Holocaust survivors, like Stern, who worked in Nazi-run ghettos and are eligible for new compensation made available by the German government.

Survivors eligible for The German Government Ghetto Labor Compensation Fund include those who were forced to live in a ghetto under Nazi control and who were employed “without coercion” during this time. The fund, established in October of 2007, ensures a one-time payment 2,000 Euros (approximately $3,000), to those who qualify and apply.

This project originated internationally with the Los Angeles-based Bet Tzedek Legal Services, which inspired firms with offices all over the country and throughout the world to join together and localize the effort. In Chicago, HCS—a joint effort of the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Chicago, Jewish Child and Family Services (JCFS), CJE Senior Life and HIAS Chicago—had already located and secured compensation for several hundred survivors, but according to HCS director Audrey Cantor, they were still looking to find others.

Determined to contribute to Bet Tzedek’s effort, locate more eligible survivors in Chicago and support HCS, representatives from three Chicago law firms—McDermott, Will & Emory, DLA Piper US and Winston & Strawn—came together in May to gauge interest from their attorneys and other firms, and come up with a game plan. They pooled their resources and arranged for clinics to be held throughout the Chicago metropolitan area, where survivors could come in with their applications, share their stories and receive free legal services.

“To date we have had several test clinics as we are trying to get the clinics established,” says Latonia Keith, Pro Bono and Community Service Counsel for McDermott, Will & Emory. “The goal of the lawyers is to make sure that survivors receive payment or are rejected on legitimate grounds.”

The application can be “deceptively simple,” according to Anne Geraghty, Pro Bono manager for DLA Piper US. “So it’s really important that lawyers be involved,” she says. All the attorneys involved go through specific training and are instructed to stay in contact with their clients following the clinics.

As of 2001, there were approximately 6,000 survivors living in Chicago, and Geraghty says she was surprised by the number of survivors living under the poverty line, noting the importance of helping as many survivors as possible.

But while Stern was quick to share her amazing story and fill out the application, other survivors may not want to evoke memories these tragic memories from their past.

“For some the ghetto was just the first step,” says Cantor, noting that many survivors prefer to say “I’m not going back.”

“We’re really asking someone to relive painful details of their lives,” says Allison Zirn, of DLA Piper US. “It’s a tremendous human interest. We’re helping people that are extremely needy.”

This effort is especially important to Zirn on a personal level because her father, who passed away just last year, was a liberator during World War II.

“He told stories, he showed pictures, but he never wanted to be considered heroic,” she said. “When there’s that need you do anything you can to help the survivors.”

“No one in Chicago has been rejected yet,” Cantor says, noting that as a result of locating new survivors, HCS has also been able to provide them with additional services. “We’re winding down as survivors are getting older.”

“We’re really dealing with living history that’s quickly no longer going to be here anymore,” added Zirn.

Gregory McConnell, Pro Bono Counsel for Winston & Strawn, said finding survivors still remains their biggest challenge. There are a total of 15 firms involved on some level, each with the potential for 30 to 50 volunteers each, and yet they don’t have the numbers of survivors to fill the clinics.

“It’s really great that [these attorneys] get to go out [to centers and clinics] and really spend the afternoon,” McConnell said. “It really instills the notion of what lawyers can do to help people.”

If you or someone you know might be eligible, or for more information, call Holocaust Community Services at (847) 568-5151. 

 Ari Moffic-Silver, the "Mitzvah Mixologist"

It’s a rare thing to be able to use your job skills to help people—especially when you’re a professional drink-slinger. So when I heard about an opportunity to participate in Taste of the Nation, the nation’s premier culinary benefit dedicated to ending childhood hunger in America, I could not resist. I was eager not only to showcase my mixology skills and rub shoulders with some of the top mixologists in the city, but also to be part of a great cause.

The three-hour event took place August 11 on the 16th floor of the brand new Trump Tower, overlooking beautiful downtown Chicago. Silent, live auctions took place throughout the evening and proceeds went to causes fighting childhood hunger. One of the charities benefiting from the event was the Chicago Food Depository, an organization my family has donated time and money to in the past, so I felt even more connected to this worthy event.

Dubbing myself the “Mizvah Mixologist,” I set out early that morning to the supermarket to decide how to spice up an already fabulous cocktail: the Caipirinha, Brazil’s national drink, made from a special Brazillian rum called Cachaca (pronounced ka-sha-sa), lime juice and sugar. It was as if lightning struck me right there in the produce section! I found these ripe, gorgeous Chilean clementines—they are seasonal and have a wonderful color and sweetness that I knew would fit perfectly into my cocktail and turn some heads at the same time!

When making a fabulous cocktail, it is sometimes best to keep it simple. In this case, the recipe seems straightforward, but the drink is about execution and presentation. Traditionally, each drink must be made fresh to order—no batching allowed! Batching is when you premix your ingredients and only need to shake and strain before serving.

For presentation and decorative purposes, I quartered the limes and my special twist – Chilean clementines – so they looked like mini pizza wedges and fit nicely into the small plastic cups we were given to serve our cocktails. Because of the quantity or drinks I’d be making, I chose to shake the drinks in my Boston shaker to speed up the mixing process. In an effort to save time, I also gently stirred the agave nectar and lime juice together to create a homemade lime syrup. That is, until I ran out of agave nectar.

As the night went on, after serving dozens of cocktails, I noticed that I was running dangerously low on my agave nectar, which would close up my station for the rest of the night. Oy Vey! But no worries, like every good mixologist I came prepared with a backup: unrefined demarara sugar, native to Brazil and a fine agave nectar substitute. The only caveat with this change in texture is – you guessed it – muddling! While it became a bit more laborious, it actually allowed me to channel my nervous energy into muddling. It was also an attention-grabber and brought many more people to my station just to watch. It also made it easy to share a few words with each person and get to schmooze them a bit while I worked my magic.



Ari's twist on a traditional cocktail

While I was having a great time mixing cocktails for the masses, I also met lots of great people along the way. For instance, Adam Seger, head bar chef at Nacional 27 at 325 W. Huron, is one of the great mixologists in Chicago. His culinary background serves as an inspirational reference for his crazy cocktails as he breaks barriers and stereotypes that have plagued cocktails for a long time. Here at this event, he was stirring up trouble with his silky smooth Vesper (Gin, Vodka, Lillet Blanc, lemon peel), and even donned a black 1980’s Michael Jackson-type hat to boot!

Mixing right beside him was Lynn House, easily one of the most experienced and talented mixologists around. She runs a superbly chic bar at the Graham Elliot restaurant at 217 W. Huron. My esteemed mentor and friend Charles Joly, who runs the mixology program at the ever-popular Drawing Room at 937 N. Rush, had his Tequila Sunrise tasting like summertime. And of course, the winner of this past season’s Top Chef: Chicago’s own Stephanie Izard, was serving up some tasty dishes at her station alongside season three runner-up Dale Levitski! How cool is that?

Walking out of Trump Tower later that evening with my fellow mixologists, the cool summer night air gently swirling around us, I began to feel a wonderful sense of accomplishment and gratification. I was having an “I just did a mitzvah and boy, it sure feels good,” moment and I was proud to have been a part of such a great event.

Make our own traditional; Caipirinha:
1.5 oz Leblon Cachaca
¼ cup 100% Organic agave nectar
4-5 lime wedges
Ice, small cubes or crushed

Directions: Muddle lime wedges and juice with agave nectar in old-fashioned rocks glass for about 15 seconds, making sure not to damage the rinds of the fruit as they contain bitter flavor. Fill the rocks glass with crushed ice, pour the cachaca over the ice, then gently stir the contents with a bar spoon until syrup is mixed in completely.

The modern method asks one to muddle ingredients in the mixing glass, filling it with ice and pouring in the cachaca, shaking for 10 seconds, then dumping the contents directly into the old-fashioned glass.

Traditionalists and modernists alike garnish with a mini wedge or wheel of lime.

L’Chaim!

Dana’s daughter is learning how to spot a good apple 

There is evidence to indicate I have no business contributing to anything called Nosh. My college roommate still recalls the time I removed a cold, hard Idaho potato from its produce bag and asked, “So is this a baked potato, or do I need to do something to it?”  Fast forward two college degrees (yes, from accredited universities) and you will witness a similar scene as my husband – in one of his more patient moments – walks me through the complex art of boiling an egg.

Much to his disappointment, I didn’t inherit my Nana’s 36DDs, but I did inherit her inability to kvell over a matzoh ball. Like Nana and my mother before me, I am a Jewish girl who can’t cook. And unfortunately, the trait has gotten progressively worse with each generation.

At least Nana (of blessed memory) had a few dishes that received modest accolades, like rolled meat in cabbage. Her son-in-law makes fun of her liquefied vegetables to this day. Papa, on the other hand, just ate.

As Uncle Eric tells it, Nana spooned out her overcooked meals to Papa day in and day out for over 60 years. On an uncharacteristically solicitous day, Nana asked Papa if he preferred tapioca or rice pudding. “I’ll have rice,” he responded. “I don’t really like tapioca.”  “What?! You don’t like tapioca?! Since 1932, I’ve been serving you tapioca. How come you never told me?”  “You never asked,” he said.

My own mother has an uncanny ability to serve monochrome meals in shades of yellow and orange. Quiche, mac ‘n cheese, frozen corn, cottage cheese. In other words, would you like some cheese with your cheese?

The men in my family aren’t much better. With the precision of a physician shoving a thermometer up a baby’s ass, my dad routinely gauges the temperature of every slab of meat, every hunk of poultry.

With these roots, does it come as a surprise that I would be perfectly happy subsisting on granola and yogurt, turkey sandwiches, and apples?

Cuisanart? Never used it. China and silver? Nowhere to be found on my wedding registry. Salt and pepper shakers? Empty – never been filled. Brisket? Never tasted it – let alone made it. Baster? What the hell is that?

Food lovers of Oy! Please tell me why I should spend hours making a meal that will be devoured in eight minutes flat. Why buy a bouquet of flowers that is just going to wilt? Why dirty a serving dish when it is far more efficient to plop a bag of chips in the middle of the table?  (Or on the floor if the table is too full, as was the case last week.)

I am aware that most Jews equate food with nurturance, ritual and family. As I type this, my husband is upstairs reading a Jewish holiday cookbook to our 5-year old daughter with far more passion than I’ve ever heard him read Goodnight, Moon. He has exclaimed, “Yummy, this is my favorite!” nine times in the past three minutes, and they’ve only finished Rosh Hashanah, Chanukah and Tu B’Shevat. “Oh ho, look at this chicken. Man, you know what’s inside this? Apples with cinnamon and nuts. Let’s remind savta to make this next time we go to Israel.”

The cookbook was a gift from my mother-in-law, shortly before her poor son married an inept chef. Little did she know he was marrying me and a guy named Joe who would provide many healthy meals for her son. Joe Coulombe, the founder of Trader Joe’s, is a guest at most meals at our house. He once said, “In France there isn't all this fuss about pricey, vintage wine. They just pour the stuff and drink it."  Now that is an attitude that I can respect.

Joe is so cool, I also take him to work. The current no-fuss contents of my bottom desk drawer include the makings of a Trader Joe's feast: split pea soup, sardines, rice cakes, organic quinoa, soy milk in a box and dried cranberries. To this, my colleague and fellow Oy-ster Sarah Follmer will tearfully attest.

At Chanukah, if Trader Joe’s runs out of frozen potato pancakes, my family heads to Walker Bros. and if the lines there are too long, we are shit out of luck. Year-round, my freezer remains stocked with frozen brown rice, roasted vegetables with balsamic vinegar, and blueberry waffles. So don’t worry, folks. Joe may be a west coast goy who sold his business to a German conglomerate years ago, but he keeps my family well nourished.

My husband helps, too. Benny grew up frequenting shuks with his mama in northern Israel and prides himself on his ability to pick out the juiciest watermelon, the freshest avocado, the most succulent tomatoes. On multiple occasions, he has tried to show me how to cut a mango. I look the other way, as I did when a former secretary tried to show me how to mail merge. I just don’t want to know.

I am starting to realize it is not that I’ve failed as a cook – I just haven’t tried. With apologies to Nana, I do care if the people I love prefer tapioca pudding or rice pudding. It’s just that such requests usually send me to the store, not the kitchen.

Maybe this will be the generation that knows baked from raw and can boil an egg without incident. My girls, familiar with goodnight cookbooks, accompany their abba on his weekend jaunts to the produce market to smell melons. My 5-year old can already make a mean turkey sandwich. My 4-year old loves flowers, wilted or not.

Cut, learn more at www.cutthefilm.com 

I’m an avoider. My solution to the circumcision question (to cut or not to cut) is: I’ll only have girls. I am sure that this impractical resolution will result in a family of boys.

I would never even have been thinking about this question had it not been for Chicagoan Eliyahu Ungar-Sargon’s film,  Cut . And he would never have been thinking about this issue if not for the time, at 15-years-old, he served as the Sandek, the person who holds the baby during the ritual, for his cousin’s bris in Jerusalem. He was appalled when the Mohel leaned over the baby and came up with blood on his beard. The image stuck with him and today, with Cut, he addresses the issue of whether or not to circumcise religiously, scientifically, ethically, sexually, straightforwardly and graphically through interviews with people from every perspective.

I admit I had to cover my eyes at a few points during the film. I had never seen a circumcision up close before. I had never even thought about it for more than five seconds before watching the film, but my screening prompted a long discussion among friends afterward–which, it turns out falls nicely in line with Ungar-Sargon’s goal of prompting conversation on the subject.

He judges the film’s success not on the number of minds he changes or how many viewers come away agreeing with him, but rather on the dialogues that viewers have after watching. He says this questioning and wrestling with ideas is really what being Jewish is about. After a screening, most stick around for an hour and a half or so discussion. After hearing lots of new information on a taboo topic, it’s only natural that people have questions as they’re processing the information.

Another documentary about circumcision was made in 1995 – Whose Body, Whose Rights – but it was clearly an anti-circumcision film. Ungar-Sargon wanted to make a documentary about his personal experience and viewpoints, while also including the perspectives of others. He tried to portray, “people who vehemently disagree with me in the most flattering light.” He also recognizes that the choice of whether or not to circumcise your sons is a very personal decision.

Ungar-Sargon’s interest in both film and circumcision began as a teenager, but these subjects didn’t come together in the form of Cut until years later. “The first time I saw film as more than just entertainment was in high school in Jerusalem, when I took a film appreciation class because I thought it would be an easy credit,” he says with a smile – it obviously became much more than that. But first he attended medical school for 3 years in England until he decided to venture out to pursue his true passion – film. When he applied to the Art Institute of Chicago, he says he had “never done anything artistic in my life, but I knew how to take pictures.”

Eliyahu Ungar-Sargon “cuts” right to the chase with his film on circumcision

Being raised in an Orthodox home, he DID have a lot of experience with traditional Jewish ideas and how they sometimes conflicted with modern society. One example marking clear conflict between Jewish and secular views is the role of women in traditional Judaism. There is much discussion on this topic and feminism in general, but with circumcision there is almost no discussion. People get uncomfortable questioning something that they perceive as being central or fundamental to being Jewish.

That perception is precisely what Ungar-Sargon wanted to focus on. Cut began in his documentary film class, and expanded into a feature film after he graduated. He and his wife, the co-producer, are now independently distributing the film.

Before starting work on the film, and before his experience as a Sandek, he wasn’t aware of all three steps of a traditional Orthodox Bris. Neither was I. Here’s how he explained it to me.

1. Milah – cutting of the foreskin
2. Pri’ah – removing of the translucent membrane
3. Metzitzah – suction of blood. Usually a sterilized glass tube is used for this step, but historically, and in more traditional movements, oral suction is performed. I won’t get into the controversy surrounding this step – that would have to be a whole separate story.

So the bris is a tradition going back thousands of years, but what about the non-religious reasons for circumcision? Here in the Midwest, 70% of men are circumcised, the highest rate in the United States. I recently heard a story on the radio talking about how circumcision can help prevent HIV/AIDS. Is that true? Ungar-Sargon’s research shows that these types of statements – circumcision can prevent _____(fill in the blank) - have been loosely related to the scariest diseases of the times. In the 19th century, circumcision was supposed to prevent epilepsy and masturbation (apparently considered a disease back in the day). In the 20th century it was linked to syphilis. During World War II, everyone entering the military had to be circumcised for sanitary purposes. Post WWII, it was supposed to prevent cancers, urinary tract infections, and now HIV. Over the years, scientific studies have disproved these connections each time.

That said, the film is not anti-circumcision and Ungar-Sargon doesn’t characterize himself as an anti-circumcision person (those who do prefer to be known as intactivists). The film offers every opinion from those of intactivists to those of a Rabbi who says it is an obligation. After a screening, some people leave no longer wanting to circumcise their sons while others leave with renewed conviction about the practice. Armed with new information, everyone develops her own personal decision.

Ungar-Sargon will continue in his goal to raise awareness and instigate conversation on difficult topics through film. Production of his next feature-length film documenting the Israeli-Palestinian conflict begins this November.

More information about Cut, screenings, and the DVD can be found at  www.cutthefilm.com . Ungar-Sargon is also a guest lecturer in editing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and teaches two classes – Masterpiece Cinema and Holy Athiesm – both available as podcasts on his site,  www.eliungar.com . 

Rachel Massey will make your day

Rachel Massey’s planner is always full.  The master organizer plans weddings, meetings and events of all sorts—she’s also a sometimes-yoga instructor. After six years working for hotels including the House of Blues and the InterContinental, she’s gone out on her own. When she’s not in event mode, you’ll find Rachel on a yoga mat or hanging at home with her husband Jeff and their animals—a giant Golden Retriever named Chuck and two cats, Lovie (yup, that Lovie) and Sammy.

So whether you have a big event coming up and need help from a pro, you enjoy yoga or long for travel without airplanes, Rachel Massey is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a psychologist, I was always the one in my group of friends who was trying to save the world and solve everyone’s problems. I always took in strays—people not animals—and tried to help them. Then, after I went to college and studied psychology, I found I wanted to skip to the part where people lie on the couch and I have a nice office. The end result sounded awesome but the rest of it wasn’t for me.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love the flexibility and the variety—each day is different, each event is different and I feel like I have tempered my career with my passion for practicing and teaching yoga. Yoga used to be on the backburner and now I get to make it a bigger part of my life.

3. What are you reading?
I am re-reading Until I Find You by John Irving, he’s my favorite author and I was inspired to re-read it on a recent trip to Europe, because the book is based there. I’m also reading  The Historian .

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
This one is hard – Thai Village is an all-around winner and, in years of going there, has never disappointed. Magnolia for a fancier night out, I love it there. And I have to say that Mas, which closed down, was one of my favorite places. They were always so busy; I just don’t get it! I’m also looking for recommendations in Oak Park if anyone has any, we just moved there.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
As an ex-smoker, I’d love to invent a cigarette that would never kill you, cause any health problems, give you wrinkles or make you smell bad. And, I’d also love some kind of transport device that would make flying places on planes unnecessary.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Fly of course, so I wouldn’t have to take planes!

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Lots of Stevie Nicks, I’m a really big fan. Particularly the song “Night Bird."

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
In my family, we have what we call the Shabbos Shot. When my parents are in town, or we’re visiting them, we kick off Friday night with a shot of tequila. I also try to host a holiday least one once a year—I’m not religious about which holiday—but I try to host a dinner or party for a group of friends who are not predominantly Jewish.

Getting married? Freaking out? Rachel can help! E-mail her at: Rachel@blushandbashfulevents.com 

“The Incredible Mark Bazer”

My father waited 34 years to tell me the news.

"Bazer," the surname he passed down to me, and which I've long cherished for its uniqueness, its slight air of mystery and its "Z," is, it turns out, hardly innocuous, and even less mysterious.

Dad: Son, I have something to tell you about your name.
Me: OK.
Dad: It means 'angry person' in Yiddish. I wanted to tell you now so that ... son, what are you doing? I'm just telling you the truth. Put me down. Please! Stop! No!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thud.

Alas, my father, may his soul eternally burn in hell, was right.

A quick Web search revealed, according to the Family Education Network, that "Bazer" is a variant of "Beiser," which is a "nickname for a wicked or aggressive person, from Yiddish beyzer  (meaning) 'wicked,' 'severe,' 'bad,' 'angry,' 'fierce.'"

What was going on that day in my ancestors' village, or shtetl, when the names were being handed out? When everyone else took on titles befitting their professions, what kind of raving, unemployable lunatic must the original Bazer have been? My word, what possibly could he have done to be given such a name? Murder the fiddler on the roof?

Being saddled with the knowledge that your last name could quite simply mean "bad" is hard enough to take. But then there's the matter of my first name: Mark, which — let's go to the Family Education Network again — means "warring," "warlike" or the much more peaceful "hammer."

So, "Mark Bazer" means "Warlike Angry Person." In other words, it's the most violent, despicable name a human being could have. (Actually, check that. Had my parents gone with "Marc," it'd be worse: "Warlike Angry French Person.")

The question I now face is where to go from here. Once word of the meaning of my name spreads, will my colleagues and friends finally begin to fear me for the power and cruelty they know I can unleash? And do I have to start lifting weights?

Armed with this new knowledge, I've also begun to ponder how much more powerful, how much more evil, some of the greatest villains or all-around angry characters could have been had they benefited from a simple name change.

Would Marvel Comics genius Stan Lee have had more success if he'd discarded the name "Hulk" and gone with "The Incredible Mark Bazer"? Should we now have "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Bazer"? Is it too late to change the White House stationery to read Vice President Mark Bazer?

On the flip side, I wonder if instead of reveling in my newfound badness, I should now be doing everything in my power to distance myself from my name. Should I devote the rest of my days to walking the earth renouncing cruelty wherever I go? To toiling for peace at every opportunity? Or would this tack end horribly wrong, with my birth name ultimately overpowering me and an entire village of kittens slaughtered?

You people, with your names like "Hope" and "Faith" and "Sunday Rose Kidman Urban," can never understand the inner turmoil that I now must face each and every day.

Oh, what could my parents, who back then still remembered their fair share of Yiddish and must have known what my first name meant, been thinking? "Why, pray tell, did you name me Mark Bazer?" I asked my mom this morning.

Alas, it was hard to make out what she was saying from the inside of my trunk.

Mark Bazer can be reached at  mebazer@gmail.com or at  www.markbazer.com . He hosts The Interview Show the first Friday of every month at The Hideout ( www.hideoutchicago.com ). His next show, Sept. 5, from 6:30 p.m. to 8 p.m., will feature hip-hop poet Kevin Coval, jazz artist Frank Catalano and Blewt! Productions creative director Steve Gadlin.

(c) 2008, Mark Bazer. Distributed by Tribune Media Services. Originally published in Chicago in RedEye.

My brother taking a picture of the Contemporary Jewish Museum

My three days in the Bay Area deviated slightly from the Hemispheres magazine recommended itinerary. No dim sum in Chinatown, no inline skating through the Golden Gate Park. I headed west last month for one reason: to connect with my big brother.

The last time I tried to enter his world, I encountered wizards, orcs and half-elves. Turns out, Dungeons and Dragons was not my thing and I quickly retreated to a more familiar landscape which included cherry Blow Pops, gossip and The Love Boat. That was in 1981.



Me with my brother, wishing he was into The Love Boat

These days, he is a freelance photographer who still orbits his own planet. And I am still the little sister with hopelessly mundane interests—and an interest in whatever planet my brother happens to be on.

He has the entire Bay area arts and culture calendar committed to memory. I know next to nothing about art. I don’t like museums. And I especially don’t like art museums.

But this trip, my brother is my tour guide so I follow him.

From the photo exhibition in the basement of City Hall to the Diego Rivera mural at the Art Institute to the observation tower at the de Young Museum, I try to keep up. We crisscross the city by bus, BART, MUNI, and cable car to the Yerba Buena Cultural Center, the Legion of Honor, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the Contemporary Jewish Museum, and little galleries in alleys with no names.

Day 1
I glance (barely) at framed things hanging on walls and take a mental inventory of our differences. I have a 9 to 5 job, a hair stylist named Jerli, manners (sorta), a working stove, a credit card, the ability to maneuver around light posts and other inanimate objects, a spouse, two kids and a god-blessed picket fence. My brother has none of the above.

When he slows down to eat pad Thai, I ask about his love life, his job search, his access to laundry facilities and his long-term plans. I get short answers and a few glares.

Day 2
We take a 45-minute bus ride to a palace of fine arts by the ocean. I can barely contain my lack of excitement at the prospect of seeing Women Impressionists, or in my mind, blurry old paintings of French women sitting by the pond wearing big skirts. And true, the art does not move me, but the curator’s words on the wall tell a story, four stories, in fact of four women painters -- Berthe Morisot, Mary Cassatt, Eve Gonzales, and Marie Bracquemond -- who were marginalized due to strict social rules and gender discrimination. On a trip when social norms are anything but normal, I take note.



Flocking to Frida at the SFMOMA

We head to the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, it draws lines that rival those at the opening night of Sex in the City. My brother’s SFMOMA membership serves as a fast pass up the back elevator and I am soon sucked into room after room of intense color, intense pain and raw self-expression. It is Frida’s story of polio, politics, stormy love, ethnic influences, infertility, infidelity, physical anguish and emotional despair. Frida was part-Jewish, my brother comments. I watch him take pictures of people taking pictures of Frida’s pictures. The security guard says nothing.

Over fish tacos, I ask my brother if he is happy. Yes, he responds. I ask him what he would do if money were no object. Take pictures, he responds. And there you have it, I can fly home.



Bay area art as viewed through my brother's lens

Day 3
The new Contemporary Jewish Museum opened last June in a converted power station with a dramatic addition that stops everyone in their tracks. I do not know how many people pay the $10 admission to actually walk through the doors, but a hell of a lot of people pause to take a picture of the massive, blue steel cubes balancing on their tips. Architect Daniel Libeskind’s bold, angular design was inspired by the Hebrew letters chet-yud (i.e., chai, l’chaim, to life).



My brother with his trademark curls and overflowing bag

If you’re looking for dusty old Torah scrolls, oodles of silver Judaica, or a Holocaust memorial of some sort, don’t bother stopping at the CJM. Connecting art, people, and ideas is the marketing tag. The museum has no permanent collection. Temporary exhibits are presented in its three galleries, one of which is too cockeyed to even hang art on its walls. This space currently houses an auditory exhibit.

My brother and I agree that our favorite of the three exhibits is “From the New Yorker to Shrek: The Art of William Steig.” I read him one of the Steig quotes out loud: I often ask myself, “What would be an ideal life?” I think an ideal life would be just drawing. Maybe my brother, the photographer who takes pictures but has no working stove, let alone a picket fence, is living his ideal life.

On a bus through the Presidio, I ever-so-astutely observe, “Behind the art, there is an artist. And behind the artist, there is a story. Kinda like writing.” He seems to agree.

If we were art, the curator might write: Two out of sync siblings bond, to the best of their ability. And off we go to the next exhibit, so this culturally-deprived jackass can learn another thing or two about art and maybe, if she’s lucky, a little about her brother.

Mark Bazer will have you laughing in his column featured in next week’s issue of Oy!

Mark Bazer is a syndicated humor columnist for Tribune Media Services and his column—which covers everything from current events to what to talk about with your hair stylist—appears every other Thursday in RedEye and on ChicagoTribune.com. He is also the host of The Interview Show, a live talk show that runs the first Friday of every month at The Hideout and features guests like Bibla Golic, the “Maria Sharapova of Table Tennis” and Doug Sohn, President of Hot Doug’s Encased Meat Emporium, along with artists, musicians and authors. His next show, Friday Sept. 5, will feature Savoy jazz saxophonist Frank Catalano, hip hop poet Kevin Coval and Steve Gadlin, creative director of Blewt! Productions' "Impress These Apes!"

So whether you love reading his column in the RedEye, find Christina Aguilera empowering or just want to have a good laugh, Mark Bazer is a Jew You Should Know.

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
The American boy cliche: a professional baseball player. But the difference is I wanted to be the bullpen catcher. Many of the perks of being in the Major Leagues but considerably less pressure.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
The deadlines. Really. I like being able to be done with something -- and having to be done with it -- and then go onto the next thing.

3. What are you reading?
"Then We Came to the End" by Joshua Ferris. It's a novel about an advertising agency in Chicago. It's really funny. It's the kind of novel where, during the days you're reading it, you start almost thinking in the mode of the novel, if that makes any sense.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Sultan's Market in Wicker Park. My wife and I used to live across the street, and it was my first falafel experience. Now, I am inevitably disappointed by any other falafel I have. And I should also probably mention Manny's.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
Something that people can use to easily get from one place to another with such ease, comfort and style that it would literally change the world. I'd call it a Segway.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Fly. I feel like if you were invisible, people would be bumping into you all the time.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Christina Aguilera. But is that guilty? She's really good. And she empowers me.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
Having the occasional Shabbat dinner with my in-laws, my wife and my 3-year-old son at my in-laws' downtown apartment. I like watching my 3-year-old try to sing along. Maybe he'd actually learn the words if we didn't do it so occasionally.

Look for one of Mark’s columns in the Living Jewishly section of next week’s issue of Oy!

Heather's dad Joe beams with pride at her graduation

My father's last memory of his father Aaron was in 1937, dad was five. Aaron's car was parked and running outside of the house. In the front seat was my grandfather's new bride, Bessie. My father came running outside of the house to the car. Aaron crouched down to my father, gave him a five dollar bill and said, "Sonny, someday you'll understand." Aaron drove away and my father never saw or heard from him again.

My father, Joseph Hyman Zagrabelsky, didn't understand then and never will.

In 1917 my father's parents emigrated from Odessa, Ukraine to the U.S. miraculously escaping the pogroms of 1919. Aaron, my grandfather, was an Orthodox Rabbi and his wife, Bluma, a homemaker. Dad was the youngest of five. Early in their lives as Americans, the family made a tour of sorts of U.S. synagogues. Apparently, Aaron liked his lady congregants a little too much and was forced to leave several temples. No matter though, the family just moved from one state to another, starting in Maryland and ending up in Los Angeles where Aaron eventually found a suitable young lady to leave his family for.

His father’s departure was a traumatic event that loomed large in Joe's life. At 19 he hitchhiked from LA to New York to pursue his dream of acting. On the way he stopped in Memphis where he knew his father to be living. He looked him up and made a call. Bessie answered the phone and informed Joe that his father had died three months earlier of a heart attack and couldn't he please send some money for a head stone.

But dad made it. He landed in New York where he worked as an actor for many years, even understudying the lead role Come Blow Your Horn on Broadway. Eventually, in the late 1960s, he met Paul Sills, founder of Compass Players and Second City, moved to Chicago and joined his improvisation group.

The rest of the family wasn’t faring quite as well. Dad’s oldest brother Bernie had become a bonafide hermit, relocating to New Hampshire from LA, and eventually kidnapping my sick grandmother. His brother Nathaniel had committed suicide. His sister Diana was living in Nevada with her gentile husband and his brother closest in age, Hershey, became a Jew for Jesus, married and had a mess o' babies. Can you imagine?? Performing must have been, among other things, a welcome respite and distraction from his painful past.

Eventually, my dad met and married my mother, Hope, a granddaughter of Norwegian immigrants, whom he met in one of Viola Spolin's famous improvisation classes. They raised my older brother and I, baptizing us at the local Presbyterian church. Every Sunday, we dutifully went to Sunday School. My father would drop us off and say, "Tell Jesus I said hello. Ask him, can't I get into heaven by association?" We loved that one. But as time went on, I found that I did have to ask my father's question in earnest to those who taught me Christian doctrine. Would my dad go to hell? I posed this question to any poor schmo with a divinity degree. Some said it was up to God's discretion, but most said yes. I was disturbed by this. It took many years of interrogating clergy of all stripes before I settled on, no.



Heather and her dad, a couple of hams

I've always felt a kinship with my father. Perhaps it's because I have his dark hair and sallow skin, or maybe it's just the typical father-daughter bond. Whatever it is, I feel Jewish and have since I was a child. Currently, I am in the midst of the conversion process, a topic of conversation that I have found does not bring out the best in people. Some say, "Why does it matter? Why do you want religion?" My mother is nonplussed, my orthodox friends will never consider me a real Jew, and my father says, "Why do you want to be a Jew? People are always trying to kill us!" It's not that I want to be Jewish, or wish I was Jewish. I simply feel that I am and want to make it official. More than that, my desire to do so is not so much a measured cognitive process as it is a biological urge, like the urge to have children or go to sleep.

After twenty-four years together, my parents called it quits. Dad was single for a while, renting a small apartment and living in typical bachelor squalor. Some years later he married a nice Catholic lady named Jean. Hers, I thought, is a deep but personal faith; one I can tolerate, admire even. They quickly moved to a quiet neighborhood in Northwest Indiana to be near Jean's family. Later, I came to find out that many of Jean's family members are Evangelical Christians. Oy.

Now, I am not familiar with all of Indiana, or with all evangelicals, but where my dad lives they actually believe that Obama is a Muslim, and they’d have a problem with it if he was. They must have been salivating as his car pulled up, seeing the passenger as someone who desperately needed saving. Eventually Dad and Jean moved in with Jean's son's family, wonderful people who happen to display their faith in a way I find nauseating. But how could I complain? They love my dad and take wonderful care of him. Sure, when I told them my husband was going into environmental law they told me that environmentalists love trees more than people, but so what, right?

Dad will turn seventy-six this month. Who can blame him for wanting some measure of spirituality in his life? A tried and true hypochondriac—he once called to inform me that he had a new condition, and drove home the severity of the situation with the dramatic pause he had perfected on stage: “Heather,” he said, “I have conjunctivitis.” Yes, my dad had pink eye. And yes, he pulled through. I do kid him for his constant assumption that death is imminent, but getting older and seeing friends die must really reinforce his fears. It makes sense that he might want to chat with his maker.

Knowing Jean’s family’s evangelical bent, I guess I should have seen it coming. But when my dad called announcing that he was to be baptized, I was dumbfounded. Actually, devastated is more like it. Did I mention the baptism was to take place one day before a scheduled surgery? Dad thinks he'll die during routine teeth cleanings! The man was covering his bases. I sobbed. And sobbed. I tried everything. I made an impromptu visit to Indiana, speeding down the Dan Ryan toward the Skyway begging him to rethink his decision. I even took him to see a rabbi in Munster.

The rabbi respectfully inquired into his line of thinking. My dad replied that he now lives with Christians and added, "When in Rome..." Oh well. "What? It's just some water on my head," he barked in a perfect New York Jew accent. "I'm a Jew, Jesus was a Jew, period." When I asked if he believed that Jesus died for his sins and will come back to judge the living and the dead—payback for years of Sunday school I guess—he replied, "What the hell are you talking about?" Sigh...I had to laugh even through my tears. At least the trip wasn't a total loss. It was beautiful to see my father lay tefillin for the first time in more than fifty-five years. He still knew the Hebrew by heart.

A few days after my visit to Indiana, Dad landed in the emergency room (he is fine). Jean left me a voice mail saying, should my father die; it's my fault, just so I know. Nice. What could I do? He is my only link to Judaism and without that link, I felt very alone. How can I feel Jewish if he ceases to be a Jew? Can I still convert? I realized that my tears were in large part for myself and what I thought I had lost.

Two weeks after we visited the rabbi, he was baptized. I wasn't there.

How is a Jew whose entire family abandoned Judaism long ago and who lives amongst so many Christians to keep his faith? It would be difficult even for the most observant amongst us. Dad didn't stand a chance.

I think that truth be told, Dad’s baptism mattered more to me than it did to him. I can’t say for sure whether he was covering bases, or agreeing to the ceremony to provide some kind of comfort for the woman he loves. Maybe he doesn’t even see it as getting in the way of his view of his Jewish self, or suddenly at 75, he found Jesus—and I guess it doesn’t matter.

No matter what my dad believes, I am Jewish because of him. Now it’s up to me to figure out how to be the Jew I want to be, that I feel I am.

Josh Rosenberg, a walking canvas of Jewish pride

We’ve all met Jews with tattoos—people of the Hebrew persuasion who see no conflict between their heritage and their body art. But how about Jews who consider their tattoos to be an expression of their Judaism? Meet Josh Rosenberg, a 28-year-old union pipefitter who wears his heart on his sleeve and his religion just underneath it.

Josh’s left wrist is encircled with tattooed Hebrew script that says: “Ben Yisrael”—son of Israel—and his left elbow is ringed by an enormous Star of David, a twin tribute and statement of loyalty to his parents. “I don’t know the ethnicity of my blood parents, but as far as I am concerned, I am my [adoptive] parents’ son—and they are Jewish,” Josh says.  That lineage is intense. His great-aunt, a Holocaust survivor, was among many members of his family who emigrated to Israel after WWII, and her testimony helped convict the notorious Adolph Eichmann of war crimes.

How could the descendent of Holocaust survivors in particular choose to get tattoos? “I think a lot of people these days are embarrassed of being Jewish,” Rosenberg says. “Not too long ago, Jews even had to hide their identity. This is my way of saying I am proud of it.”

Rosenberg’s pride is apparent both coming and going. Just below the nape of his neck is another Jewish tattoo, a colorful lotus flower in full bloom, with a Jewish Star at its heart. “The lotus flower grows in stagnant water,” Rosenberg explains. “Who could believe that something so beautiful grows in something so stagnant, that such beauty grows out of shit?”



Josh’s lotus flower tattoo with a star of David, such beauty growing out of such shit

Speaking of shit—how much does Rosenberg get about his Jewish body art? “I asked my rabbi if it was true that a Jew with tattoos couldn’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery,” Rosenberg says. “He told me: ‘There are 613 laws, and one of them [also] is not to lie, but if every liar couldn’t be buried [in a Jewish cemetery], there would be no one buried there. Live your life.’”

Rosenberg definitely is a man who does just that. The inside of his right forearm is emblazoned with a dramatic image of Miriam the prophet. “The only problem I have ever had with the Old Testament is women aren’t represented,” Rosenberg says. “The only woman who always stood strong was Miriam. She was amazing. She kept the Jewish people together in the desert, where [a well of] water followed her. Without her, there would be nothing.”

Below the tribute to Miriam is a tribute that is more personal: The monogram “MAM” is emblazoned on his right wrist, a permanent memorial to Rosenberg’s beloved friend, Matthew Aaron Morrison, who died two years ago. “I have known Matt since I was 5,” Rosenberg says, speaking at a party marking what would have been Matt’s 28th birthday. “He was my brother, and I lost him. We were inseparable. Now he is dead and I am not.”  The tattoo, he says, is a way of keeping Morrison’s memory with him always.

Rosenberg’s most recent tattoo, inked on his left inside forearm, is less bittersweet,  It is a quote from the Torah that declares: “Any place a man turns his eyes to heaven is the holiest of holies.” “It has a lot of relevance in my life today,” says Josh. “The whole reason to have tattoos as a Jew—the whole irony—is that you don’t need a synagogue or a structure to find God or praise God. There is another way.”

With ink.

Zed451
739 N. Clark St.
(312) 266-6691
www.zed451.com

Rating: Three Stars

  

Stacey's dining companion wants to live here

Zed is the British/French pronunciation of the last letter of the alphabet. 451 is the number of degrees (in Fahrenheit) needed for fire to ignite. So, one would imagine that somehow the creators of this new restaurant are implying that their concept is a culminating point, the end all be all, the point of combustion.

Instead, what works best about this spacious and comfortable space is that ultimately, it is basic--it celebrates the beginning of things and is the starting place. At a time in dining where American Chefs are borrowing the best ideas from other cultures and claiming them as our own, it should be no surprise that the marketing of Zed451 doesn’t ever invoke Italian antipasto, Spanish Tapas, Greek Mezes, or Argentinean churrascuro, (the traditional steakhouse format that has become popularized here with places like Fogo De Chao).  And yet, it is the intersection of those dining formats, simply a large salad bar and starter tables followed by an all-you-can-eat festival of meats, grilled on large skewers, and carved tableside, that the team at Zed is doing.

But if the devil is in the details, so is the divine.

My date for the evening is a goddess with a biblical name, who has given me the ultimate gift, a brilliantly blonde and blue-eyed porcelain-skinned goddaughter, who has a 30-something’s vocabulary at the age of three and is dutifully learning the Four Questions for next year’s Passover Seder. She greets me when I visit with a hug and the phrase, “Can I get you a glass of wine or something?” Rachel is a props master and set dresser with impeccable taste, so when she meets me at the expansive central bar and says, “I want to live here” I know that architect Chris Smith, in his first Chicago project, has been extraordinarily successful in creating a comfortable and attractive place, not easy to do in a cavernous space such as this.

Groups gather in Zed's cozy nooks

But cozy nooks abound, the seating at the bar is comfortable enough that you can imagine lingering, and natural touches like warm woods, leather and stone are very welcoming.  There is a focus on the ‘fresh’ here, which is highlighted everywhere including on the drinks menu.  We start with the bartender’s recommendation, the cucumber sage martini.  A blend of freshly muddled cucumber with lemon simple syrup, sage, and Hendrick’s gin, this martini tasted neither of cucumber nor of sage, but was still yummy...slightly sweet and lemony, but not overpowering the smooth piney gin.

We moved to the dining room, a bright and airy space with a round central set of serving tables hugging the circular fire pit, banquettes and tables radiating out from it like a starfish. A small candle, a tiny nosegay of blissfully scentless flowers, a flat-brushed aluminum disc containing two agate river stones rest atop the simple table. We are immediately attended to by Ilyas, a genial gent of Moroccan origin, who indicates that he is there to “explain the experience.”

Again deftly avoiding the use of the words “salad bar” and “Argentinean Steakhouse,” Ilyas explains, (as a fresh set of warm three-cheese biscuits arrive in a cast iron pan with an accompaniment of  tangerine butter), that we will begin at the “Harvest Tables,” the circular set of tables we passed en route to our seats. These have soups, charcuterie and cheeses, and prepared salads that we should ‘enjoy to our hearts content’ (read: all you can eat).  Once we decide to move on to the entrée portion of the evening, we should move our stones from the metal disc onto the corner of the table, which will indicate to the numerous chefs that we are ready to begin sampling their fares. When we want to take a breather, we should simply move the stones back to their home base, and we will be left to eat in peace until we choose to re-start.

Hot buns! The delightful three-cheese biscuits

Neither Rachel or I are exactly fans of the general idea of a salad bar, associating them with sneeze guards, badly parented children fondling the beets, inexplicable chocolate pudding and big bowls of lettuce swimming in pools of tepid water. But we were pleasantly surprised to find that the Harvest Tables banished those fears. Laid out more like an expansive antipasto bar, the simple white rectangular plates hold interesting options that feel more like serve-it-yourself tapas. The simple cheese platter is nothing new, the charcuterie consists of spicy sopressatta, smooth mortadella, and meaty guianciale, and all are highlighted by house-cured bread-and-butter pickles and fresh baby artichokes, as well as grilled vegetables.

Rachel samples a roasted eggplant soup, adding feta cheese and toasted pine nuts to garnish, which she declares to be like a velvet hug. Some other highlights include a tiny wedge salad, boson lettuce topped with diced tomatoes, a blue cheese dressing, and garlic chips; a salad of roasted peaches with new potatoes, grilled red onion and blanched green beans; vanilla poached baby carrots with honey yogurt; and fresh pineapple with Madagascar vanilla and pepper, which I could probably eat forty-two portions of if no one stopped me. And frankly, at Zed, no one will stop you.

"Fresh" is the main ingredient

There are some misses here as well, a bland cheese ravioli where the filling is so flavorless that it is literally indistinguishable from the pasta that contains it. An uninspired tri-color pasta salad with creamy Italian dressing, while a slightly upscale version of what you see in your local deli case, nevertheless adds nothing of interest.  And the genius of poaching carrots in vanilla is not so genius when used on green beans.

There's something for everyone at the non-salad bar

The wine list here has some good choices, although Ilyas was hesitant to make specific recommendations and it was clear that if you want to do any kind of wine pairings, you are on your own.  For the Harvest Tables, we ordered Sofia Coppola’s take on champagne, which adorably comes in little pink cans, although we opted out of the included tiny straws, and asked for flutes because Rachel sees enough juice-boxes with a three-year old at home, and I think that champagne thru a plastic straw is about as appealing as beer in a funnel.

The amuse bouche of the night was a shot of chilled yellow pepper soup with lemongrass and chive oil, a nice and refreshing mouthful that was balanced and flavorful. We were clearly the only guests who had thought to request that the parade of skewered proteins we were about to receive begin with seafood and poultry and then move to game and red meats. (It is a touch I might recommend as a standard practice, since it helps with wine ordering, and also preps the palate.)  They were happy to accommodate us, and we ordered a glass of buttery Bouterra Viognier  and one of Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc, a fruity white from New Zealand, both of which would stand up well to both fish and poultry. Ilyas placed our stones on the corner of the table, and let us know that “With the rocks out, you’re rockin’!” and reminded us that the chefs are there to please and serve, and special requests are encouraged.

The true genius of Zed451 is its fixed price. If you went to any decent restaurant and ordered a starter, a salad, an entrée and side dishes, you would easily spend more than the $50 per person cost here. And if you ordered wrong, you’d be stuck with your choices. Even at a tapas bar, you pay for every decision, and if you have a budget, it can limit your willingness to taste and try. But with this concept in place, you enjoy your fill of any and all offerings; be adventurous, if something doesn’t satisfy, push it aside and wait for the next morsel.

That was a plan that turned out to be necessary. Some of the food that came to us was absolutely fantastic.  A citrus-crusted salmon was Rachel’s favorite thing of the evening, while I was torn between the succulent rib eye and the glorious rump roast, both perfectly seasoned top quality beef, cooked to buttery perfection. Other delights were a seared tuna loin with a citrus soy sauce, pistachio crusted duck breast, (marred only minimally by the use of canned mandarin oranges on top), a sweet and smoky spare rib, spicy Portuguese linguica sausage, juicy and fragrant, and a lovely little lamb chop with herbed goat cheese butter and crisp bread crumb crust.

There were however, some problem dishes as well. What would have been a great tempura mahi mahi was sauced well before it came to the table, and while the fish within was flaky and flavorful, the desired balancing crispiness of the batter was absent, having gotten soggy on the way to the table. Both chicken offerings, an herbed breast and roasted leg, were lackluster, the leg under-seasoned, and the breast both over-marinated and overcooked, way too dry to even bother with. Likewise, pork loin with parmesan had all the moistness cooked out of it, rendering it the texture of pressed wood, and the cheese was an off-putting pairing for what should have been sweet and tender meat. The leg of lamb had also suffered from over-marinating, penetrating so far into the meat so that it lost all of its wonderful soft gaminess and tasted only of salt.

The Oregon Pinot Noir and Beaulieu Reserve Red we ordered were both delicious, and necessary on the one hand to enhance the taste of some dishes, and sadly, occasionally to eliminate the flavor of  others.  Sides too, were somewhat inconsistent.  The mashed potato gratin was passable but boring, the butter in the dish leached out into greasiness in the re-baking, but the ratatouille, with chunks of fresh zucchini, yellow squash, eggplant, onions and peppers, was light and tasted of summer, and went well with most of the meat offerings. The desserts were hit or miss as well. The highly recommended butterscotch bread pudding tasted mostly of the synthetic butterscotch-flavored chips scattered throughout, and we ended up scraping the delicious house-made toasted marshmallow off the top and abandoning the rest. But the cherry cobbler with cheesecake ice cream had a great base of sweet-tart cherries in an unctuous sauce, which was taken to a whole new level with the rich creamy ice cream, but the cobbles were more like bricks, too thick and with too much cinnamon, so again, we pushed them aside.  Our neighbors had the lemon tart, which they raved about, and we saw the chocolate trio walk by and it looked promising.

But ultimately, the inconsistency doesn’t really matter that much here.  The price is reasonable, the food that works is better than good, it is delicious, which more than makes up for the missteps.  And more importantly, the staff is impeccable.  They were present but not obtrusive, accommodating without being obsequious.  When we expressed a desire for fresh plates, they arrived in a flash. And even better, with Ilyas guiding our meal and attending to the details, we also got to meet a large cadre of personable chefs, who were uniformly passionate about the food they were bringing us, eager to tempt us with their particular offerings, and desirous of enriching our experience by offering to personally craft off-menu items at our will.

When Rachel jokingly wondered how they might get her scrambled eggs on a skewer, she was asked if she liked her eggs dry or runny and if she would like bacon as well. We both believe that if she had been serious, scrambled eggs would have indeed been forthcoming.  Don’t like a seasoning or sauce?  Ask for a different one.  Want something to have a Middle Eastern or Indian flair? Just let them know. The group is mostly current culinary school students or recent grads, and they truly do want you to challenge them to cook specifically for you and your palate.

For whatever occasional flaws appear on the plates, Corporate Chef John Radcliff, (who checked in periodically with all diners during their meals to ensure that everyone was happy) in his Chicago debut, has put together a wonderful team, and I am sure that as they all find their way, the overall food quality will go nowhere but up. In the meantime, it is a place worth visiting and a fun dining experience, especially for groups. The spectacular roof deck is already part of the see-and-be-seen scene here in Chicago, and was packed to the gills when we visited, but it is a really lovely space, so I’d get there early and snag a table.

And for all you single 20-something gals, be sure to ask for Jory Zimmerman, one of the wandering chefs. He’s a recent culinary school grad who is looking for a nice Jewish girl to cook for.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey

www.staceyballis.com

NOSH of the week:  We are in the height of summer, so be sure to support your local farmer’s markets!  Some good ones:  Green City Market 1750 N. Clark at Stockton, W/SA. 7-1:30, Lincoln Park, 2001 N Orchard in the LPHS parking lot, SA. 7-2, City Farm, 1240 N Clybourn, TU/TH/SA 3-6, Daley Plaza TH 7-3, Logan Square 3107 W. Logan Blvd. SU 10-3, Conuco 2800 W. Division, SA 9-2, Lawndale 3555 W. Ogden Ave. W 7-2  And many more….if you love the one near you, be sure to post the details below for the rest of us!

NOSH food read of the week:   The Soul of a Chef  by Michael Ruhlman (also The Making of a Chef, and The Reach of a Chef, and pretty much anything Mr. Ruhlman writes….check out his blog at www.ruhlman.com )

It’s 9:30 p.m. on a sticky July evening and I’m standing outside Lillstreet Art Studio in Ravenswood. I’ve parked the Prius I’m borrowing from a friend and I’ve used my iPhone to call local artist (and old friend) Rebecca Zemans and let her know I have arrived.

It’s a fitting, if not ironic, start to the rest of my evening, which will be spent in Rebecca’s studio learning about her current body of work, “a critique on our culture and how it has progressed in its evolution, specifically with technology and nature.”

Thinking about that dichotomy that has kept Rebecca busy this past year, during which time she served as Artist-in-Residence in metalsmithing at Lillstreet. Her artistic goal during that time, when she had the luxury of time to focus solely on her work was “to connect the idea of technology in the cell and technology in our outer, larger, macroscopic world, comparing and contrasting the two.” The residency culminates this month with Natural Progressions, a show of original work by Rebecca and the other resident artists.



Rebecca and her heavy metal

With a BA in anthropology and a BFA in metalsmithing, both from the University of Michigan, Rebecca considers herself a current, contemporary anthropologist. “[I’ve got] that archaeology thing going on in the back of my mind,” she says. She uses ancient techniques for clay-work and metalwork to try to figure out how machines have affected us as a society and how we are evolving along with them.

“These original art forms–clay, metal–these materials found in our environment have progressed to allow us to have computers and TVs and telephones. They’re all made of metal, essentially, and you need copper wires and steel wires to transmit information.”

In addition to gaining inspiration from nature and man-made machines, for the last few years Rebecca has been flirting with the idea of the cell as a major theme of both her sculpture and her jewelry. “The biological cell is this fundamental building block that I believe works like a machine. It is the most efficient machine possible. It creates human beings.”

Much of her recent work, including the piece below entitled Vat in the Brain, Rebecca notes is “modern but ancient; it has plastic.” She says this particular piece satisfies her need to create. “I’m going to put a circuit board in as the nucleus, because that’s what a nucleus is; it runs the show. It’s a play on the question of are we machines? Do we really run ourselves? Or is someone else controlling us?”



Vat in the Brain

Just as the materials she uses have evolved in their use, so has Rebecca’s artistic process and focus. Her previous body of work used the same materials–ceramic, metal, rubber, and concrete materials–but was more allegorically themed and centered around things found in the natural world, like flowers, figures and animals.

The Cycle was inspired by Rebecca’s birthright trip to Israel, and incorporates found materials from her time there. She was there when the war broke out in July 2006 and having decided to extend her trip beyond the 10 days, she “pretty much spent the next two weeks hiding out in Herzliya.” She brought home ball bearings she picked up off the ground and integrated them into her design.



The Cycle

Of course, not everyone sees what Rebecca sees when they look at her work. And she’s okay with that.

“For me it’s my own psychological sublimation,” she says. “I look at the news and I get really upset… the process of making [art] helps me to deal with that. But I’m very grateful that other people get lots of different things out of it.  One of my friends says ‘you always make ovum. That’s all you do.’ I guess that’s right, I do! I’m a woman artist! And a lot of people see sea creatures, I don’t know if that’s subconsciously because I’m a Pisces… But I’m just glad that they like it!”



After the JCC where she was working received a donated Torah, Rebecca was commissioned to create this ner tamid -- which she calls Burning Bush -- for above the ark 

In addition to being a woman artist and a Pisces, Rebecca’s Judaism also very much informs her work. She believes part of the reason she is drawn to the abstract, organic shapes she often creates is because of the Jewish idea that we are not supposed to recreate the human form.

Moving forward, Rebecca will continue teaching art classes, which has been her main source of income for the last several years. For her next projects, she hopes to hone in on the concepts of networks and mapping and the transference of information. She is particularly interested in nerve cells and skin cells, because “those two types of cells are related to sense and instinct, and processing information.” She has also started her own line of retail jewelry, still playing off the cell and the nucleus. “But it’s all ovum, too. Women like circles.”



A sample of Rebecca's jewelry

I drive Rebecca home in the futuristic hybrid push-button car while listening to a band from the past. We reminisce about growing up in Hyde Park and I admit how big a crush I had on her brother while we laugh about how not my type he is now. Plenty has changed since we were elementary school kids playing four square and watching episodes of 90210 during her parents’ annual Rosh Hashanah party. Rebecca has evolved from an all-star volleyball player to an accomplished artist. Natural progression? Not necessarily. Good fortune for those of us who get to see the fruits of her labor? Definitely.

Natural Progressions runs at the  Lillstreet Art Center  through August 28, 2008. Samples of Rebecca’s work and her contact information can be found on her website,  www.rebeccazemans.com .

Josie is always cooking up new recipes for Jewish life in Chicago 

A Bay Area transplant, Josie A.G. Shapiro spends her days as the Membership and Program Director at Temple Sholom of Chicago.  She helps members connect to the things that interest them, whether that might be spiritual discussions with rabbis or social gatherings like sushi Shabbat. Her goal is to make sure newcomers—40% of new members are in the 20s and 30s— feel comfortable calling Sholom Chicago home.

So whether you like fish on Fridays, remember all the words to your camp songs or enjoy entering contests, Josie A.G. Shapiro is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I was really shy and my teacher nicknamed me Miss Mousey. I had a fantasy of growing up to be a clown because they make people happy—well, not everyone. Some people are scared of them. But I took some clowning classes and wasn’t physically coordinated enough. Since then, I have wanted to own my own B+B— a Bed + Bistro. Breakfast is too early and dinner is more fun anyway.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
In terms of my professional life, I have way outgrown Miss Mousey! I do a lot of schmoozing and I enjoy meeting new people talking to them about what makes them tick in terms of their Jewish identity. My job is all about building connections for people, helping them find what they are looking for.

I also love making up recipes and entering contests that have a restrictions of some kind, like you have to use a certain brand of products or meet a time constraint. I like figuring out ways to move within the rules and come up with something unique and original.

3. What are you reading?
I’m reading everything by Geraldine Brooks. Right now I’m reading  The People of the Book . I’m also reading Anne-Marie McDonalds— The Way the Crow Flies . It is deliciously dark and takes place in a 1960s Air force base in Canada. I read  Fall On Your Knees  about a month ago. She has a real sense of humanity. It’s that moment when you’re reading and you’re like, “Yes I know that feeling! Yes I know that one too!"

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I am a food fanatic, so I love food adventures! My friends and I took the Amtrak to Kansas City for BBQ weekend and ate BBQ three times a day. In Chicago, I love Marigold, an upscale Indian place with a great wine list. And I really like Demera, an Ethiopian place across the street from Marigold. Basically, I like any restaurant I can walk to.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
If money was no object I probably should want to invent something that could help do good in the world, but all I can think about is how much I hate to fold laundry and how much clean laundry is piled up at home, and how neat it would be if there was a dryer that sorted and folded clothes after they were clean.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Invisible. The mouse in me likes to be silent and observe.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
I don’t own an iPod… I know, I Know. I like singing old camp songs, I just unleashed my whole repertoire on the husband on a car trip;. He turned off his iPod and listened graciously.

8.What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
Since I work in a synagogue and I am a professional Jew, you can find me at temple on most Friday nights. My favorite Jewish phenomenon is when I see people from Sholom’s Jewish community when I’m out walking around the neighborhood. It makes me feel like I’m in a small little shtetl and like I know people in the city, which is pretty cool for someone, who has only been here for four years.

Three’s company in the Follmer household

“Why are you writing about that? People always think being a triplet is interesting and cool. But it’s not.”

That encouraging morsel of cheer came from my brother Daniel when I called to ask whether I was allowed to use his real name in this article. “I concur,” echoed my brother Max a few minutes later.

For much of our lives, my brothers and I have gone to great lengths to avoid being known as “one of the triplets.” We’d cringe when referred to collectively as “the Follmer triplets.” You’d have thought the single pet hermit crab John Stern had given us for our fourth birthday (seriously, we have to share one damned hermit crab?) had crawled out of its shell and bitten our big toes off.

It was tedious to constantly hear, “Oh, you’re a triplet? That’s so cool! What’s that like?” because we didn’t think it was that cool. And we couldn’t say what being a triplet was like because we didn’t know what not being a triplet was like. To this day, I can’t see the difference between my having Max and Daniel around and my friend Katie having three sisters of different ages. Built-in playmate? Check. Someone else to blame when you take the liberty of taping the Miss Teen USA Pageant over Mom’s Dallas episodes? Double check.



Once, twice, three times the babies!

Blaming each other was an art we perfected very early in life. Once we mastered shouting, “Max did it” whenever our parents would call out to us from another room, we moved onto more advanced methods. All kids draw on the walls with crayons, right? But how many are sly enough to sign their siblings’ names underneath? Casual observers might have thought we had the next Picasso in the house with all of “Max’s” drawings on the walls. Poor Max was always the scapegoat.

Not that our entire childhood was spent plotting each other’s demise. When the three of us found a shared interest, life was a blast. Today I can’t dance to save my life, but the three of us choreographed some great crotch-grabbing dances to Eagles songs. And who can forget the great modeling clay massacre of 1991? I think that without a team of accomplices, most only children wouldn’t think to throw modeling clay onto the dining room ceiling to see how long it will stay, whether red sticks longer than blue or green, or how long it will take before Mom and Dad notice the stains.

It was really the loss of our own individual identities that bothered us most. Being “the Follmer triplets” meant that people didn’t actually have to remember all three of our names (to this day I’m still “Max’s sister” or “one of the Follmers”); that they could just buy three of the same birthday present and call it a day; or that they could just buy one present and make us split it (see: hermit crab).



The smiling Follmer triplets—just don’t make them share one hermit crab

I think it was this forced togetherness and presumed similarity that led us to keep each other at arm’s length. We had to assert ourselves as individuals with distinct styles and personalities, and in order to do that we could not ally ourselves too closely with each other.

Much to the shock of my singlet friends, I would not consider the three of us “close.” I don’t know when one of them is dating someone or when they have the flu. I only found out a few months ago that Daniel is allergic to cats, and other than a gift card to a coffee shop I couldn’t begin to tell you what Max would like for Chanukah.

And yet, we’re always there for each other when it matters. Even as a toddler when I would get upset I’d sob, “I want Max,” and Max would come running to give me a hug. After I ended a three-year relationship, Daniel was there to listen from 1500 miles away, even though he and I had never explicitly discussed the existence of the relationship.

Don’t worry, the irony is not lost on me that nearly every sentence I’ve written thus far has used plural pronouns, or that I’ve been basically speaking for my brothers without giving them a voice. No, I’m not using our triplet ESP to confirm that they feel exactly as I do; I’m simply guessing. But I bet I’m right.

Because yeah, sometimes the similarities in the ways we think are just too hard-wired to ignore. Senior year of high school we all three took the same English class. After reading each of our essays on The Odyssey my mother discovered that, completely coincidentally, we had all three written a nearly identical sentence (never mind that the teacher loved it in Daniel’s paper, thought Max could’ve said it better, and told me it didn’t work at all).

We all scored within ten points of each other on the SAT and were each in the top six of our high school class. We’d likely go Cain and Abel on each other if we found out that one of our siblings had voted for the political party that could have Dumbo as its mascot. We’ve probably all given our mother birthday cards with all manner of animals from Noah’s ark dressed up in tiaras and feather boas. But I’m likely the only one to find myself humming Adon Olam on a random Tuesday morning; though Daniel helped lead Shabbat services during college, I’m not convinced Max has set foot in services since we’ve been old enough to legally drink the Kiddush wine.

So I guess it’s a lie to say that there isn’t anything interesting about being a triplet. But the intrigue and the good times were not a product of my brothers and me being yanked from our mother’s womb in rapid succession on that fateful November morning; you could probably have put me in a room with any two random kids my age and I would have had a fine time. But at the end of the day, I’d still call out “I want Max (and Daniel).” Because for better or for worse, we are the Follmer triplets.

Ted Perlstein’s future is in the cards

Last year, Ted Perlstein was having drinks with friends, a couple who had recently tied the knot.

While sipping beer, the newlyweds griped about the chore of writing their wedding thank-you notes. Hearing his friends’ post-nuptial grievances got Perlstein, a Jewish Chicago-based entrepreneur, thinking about the act of sending greeting cards. “This process should be something that you look forward to,” he thought. “It should be fun.”

He did some research and found that the paper greeting card business hasn’t changed in 150 years. Here’s some random trivia for your next cocktail party: According to the Greeting Card Association, 1856 marked the start of the greeting card industry in America. For most of that time, according to Perlstein, cards were serious and pretty; the funny ones, like those ‘Over the Hill’ and couch potato cards, have only been around for a few decades.

Perlstein wanted to put his unique stamp on the industry by adding a different type of card to the mailbox. “Exchanging cards should really be more participatory. [Right now] you buy the card, you send it, and that’s it. It’s very one directional, a monologue,” he says. “On the receiving end, what do you do when you get the card? You smile, you laugh for a second, and then you have a big decision—do you throw it out, put it in a drawer, or hang it on the fridge? The process stops—it hasn’t evolved.”

In setting out to evolve the card business from monologue to dialogue, he dreamed up Fill In The Blank Greetings.

Launched last June, Fill In the Blank facilitates a personalized, playful dialogue between sender and receiver. Each card contains several cut-outs that correspond to blanks inside the card that the recipient is instructed to fill in before opening. For example, he/she might be prompted to write in “something you’d wish from a genie” or “a learned skill from elementary school.” Upon opening the card, the recipient discovers a message created with the help of their personalized responses. Then, the recipient may e-mail the creation back to the sender and family and friends on the company’s website.



Birthday cards

The cards are reminiscent of Mad Libs, the written and sometimes gross-out game—depending on who’s filling in the responses—that Perlstein played as a kid.

Growing up in a Reform Jewish household in Atlanta—in addition to Mad Libs—Perlstein also loved numbers, electronics, and learning how things work. In college, he was pre-med and majored in engineering but, upon graduating he changed his career track. “I had an epiphany that I wanted a personal life.” He and a friend started up an internet travel company, a site they ran for five years. Their business planted the entrepreneurial seed but, at the same time, the travel bug, which he’d been promoting to his clients, also bit Perlstein. So he left the company to travel on a Birthright Israel trip and then backpacked around the world for five months before returning to school to obtain his MBA.

Post-graduation, he settled in Chicago, and again worked for a stint in the travel industry, but again, his entrepreneurial spirit propelled him to go into business for himself. “I like creating things that a lot of people can use and be happy using,” he said.

Fast-forward a couple of years and a lot of work—‘”the adage everything takes longer than you think it will is so true,” says Perlstein—and Fill In the Blank Greetings was born.

Perlstein writes all the copy for the cards himself and works with freelance artists from around the country to design the cards. Currently, he works “25 feet from my bedroom” in River North, but plans to move to a downtown office soon and hire a couple of fulltime employees as well.

“The biggest challenge is creating a card that is conservative and edgy at the same time,” he said. “You don’t just want to be the guy who makes the edgy cards because you’ll alienate a whole slew of people.”

And a slew of people have bought the cards. Since its launch two months ago, the company has sold several million cards. The cards sell for about $3 a piece, but also sell in bulk for about $2.20 a card. People may order the cards online and, eventually, purchase them at retail outlets. The business also has a Facebook group. Card selection ranges from birthday greetings to bar/bat mitzvahs to “A just because card,” Perlstein’s favorite.



Sending a card “just because”

Political junkies can also have some fun filling in the _____ with election cards,” featured on the site. These cards enable people to reach out to friends to influence their vote before the presidential election—and choose Senators McCain and Obama’s favorite TV theme songs.

  

Filling in the ______for president

Perlstein hopes to expand the card selection to include Jewish cards celebrating the holidays, Jewish camping, and quotes from Jewish mothers. He also is working on a line of magnets featuring idioms and recognizable movie quotes like “You had me at _____” and “Go ahead, make my _____.” The idea is for the magnets to hold up take-out menus and invitations to create new quotes. For example, over a Japanese take-out menu, the magnet quote morphs into “Go ahead, make my sushi.”

He has some sage advice for fledgling entrepreneurs: “Don’t be afraid to fail. That’s what stops a lot of people from trying… [After all], last year at this time if you told me that I’d be a CEO of a greeting card company, I would have laughed in your face.”

Two Lights, getting ready to take the stage with their first production at the Neo-Futurarium this weekend

“I believe that theatre is an art unlike any other because it asks for a type of bravery that is scarce in this world,” says Dan Dvorkin, one of the founders of Two Lights Theatre Company.

Named for Five for Fighting’s “Two Lights,” a song that speaks of this type of courage and bravery, Dan and his co-founder, Becky Leifman, are themselves the Two Lights, or two bright ideas, behind the new company.

Buffalo Grove natives, Dan and Becky, met through their high school theatre program, where they made plans to start their own company once they graduated college. But this summer, while on break from school—Becky a junior at Syracuse University in New York and Dan a sophomore at DePaul University in Chicago— the pair decided now was as good a time as ever to get started.

“We wrote letters to our friends and family who donated money to our company, and once we had enough to put on a show we knew things would really start to pick up,” says Becky. They also received a scholarship from the Larry Berkowitz Foundation at the Buffalo Grove Park District. Then they held auditions, casting an ensemble of 11 actors ages 18 to 24, five of which they knew from high school. “We also used our resources and friends in other theatre programs to come and help us collaborate on this project with the directing, stage managing and technical directing.”

Their first original production, “Where We Go,” premiers this Friday and plays again Saturday at the Neo-Futurariam, 5133 N. Ashland--home to Chicago’s much-loved, long-running show Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. “Where We Go” was inspired by interviews with Chicagoans about their dreams. Becky and Dan used those dreams to develop characters and story lines.

“This play explores what happens when people lose their inhibitions and allow their minds to wander without any boundaries,” says Dan. “It follows the lives of three families who are distant and lost within their reality”

Becky hopes their production will be ‘meaningful theatre,’ and that the audience will learn something after watching the show.

“Most of the shows we hope to do are going to be ensemble-based, meaning that everyone shares an equal role in the creativity and process of the productions we make,” says Dan. “Our projects will ask much of our artists in mental, physical and emotional ways, in the end creating work that speaks a message.”

While they are still in school, the pair says they hope to continue working together in the summers and on school breaks.

“We are planning some pretty exciting things for next summer,” Becky says, “however nothing is set in stone so I won’t reveal too much.” Her ultimate goal is to eventually be able to turn Two Lights into a full-time career.

But for now, both Becky and Dan will be thrilled to fill the Neo-Futurariam’s 145 seats two nights in a row with eager theatre goers and supporters.

Tickets for “Where We Go” are still available. Email  Two2lights@gmail.com for reservations or for more information.

Lucy will sing her way into your heart 

Lucy Kaplansky was barely out of high school when she started singing in Chicago bars. She soon took off for New York, where she became part of a burgeoning singer-songwriter scene, notably in a duo with Shawn Colvin. Then she switched gears, earning a doctorate in psychology and opening a private practice to work with chronically mentally ill adults.

Eventually, her friends, as Al Pacino says, “pulled her back in” to the music business. Shawn Colvin produced Lucy’s 1994 debut album, “The Tide.” She went on to win best pop album from the Association For Independent Music for the third and fourth releases. Today, Lucy continues to record solo albums, backup other artists and sing as a member of the cover trio Cry Cry Cry with Dar Williams and Richard Shindell.

So whether you like folk music, enjoy delis or like political reads, Lucy Kaplansky is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I pretty much always wanted to be a singer.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love connecting with audiences, when it works it's really, really fun.  I love when people come up to me after shows and tell me they were moved by this or that song. And I love to sing, it just makes me feel very alive.  It's a great job.

3. What are you reading?
Imperial Life in the Emerald City , all about our absolutely disastrous, incompetent occupation of Iraq.

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Giordano's Pizza

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A recording studio that was so tiny it could fit in my bedroom without taking up any space.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
I'd love to be able to fly, especially after a show far away from home, if I could fly home that would be great.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Faith Hill's "Cry."  I love the writing of that song.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
I like to drive by my old synagogue in Hyde Park. I've got a lot of memories there, including learning a lot about music from the young woman who used to play guitar and sing to us. I thought she was really cool--she was a bit of a hippie.

Dana holding up the chuppah during her windy wedding ceremony

It is windy but ass-melting hot the day Benny and I tie the knot under a Kemper Lakes weeping willow. Cantor Jeff sweats buckets as he sings Yhiyeh Tov. Rabbi Eleanor dashes to rescue the ketubah as it blows toward the water. And the chuppah corners fly off the poles nine times during our short ceremony. It’s a metaphor for marriage and for life, the rabbi improvises. There is always a corner flying loose. Benny breaks the glass, I reluctantly dance the horah, and then we take a break.

It is a long break. For four years, we don’t step foot in a synagogue. We don’t fast on Yom Kippur. We barely say bless you after someone sneezes. My Reform Judaism and his secular Israeli Judaism merge and the sum total during the early years of our marriage is a long and lazy Jewish hibernation.  It takes two little girls – along with their music, expectations and tissue paper art – to wake us up.

When the Jewish calendar is your country’s calendar, when Hebrew is your native language and the Homeland is your home, you don’t need to go out of your way to express yourself Jewishly. Au contraire. Benny’s family grills pork chops on Shabbat and drives to neighboring Nazareth in the green, green Galilee to pick up fresh pita during Passover. While the people next door chant Kol Nidre, my in-laws bang their pots and pans, they picnic in the park.

Growing up a card-carrying Reform Jew in the Midwest, my taste buds are also exposed to a pork chop or two. It’s a Jewish smorgasbord – I give up bubble gum for Passover at age six and am careful not to swallow my toothpaste on Yom Kippur at 16. I love Hebrew school. I learn to kiss at Jewish overnight camp. And I spend so much time at our JCC and synagogue, I can lead you to the boiler rooms with a blindfold on.

Judaism isn’t my nationality, but it is my life – so what if the halachic side of things is a bit murky. Off I go at 23 on my first visit to Israel, naively expecting to find natives dancing the horah in green fields. Instead I find dogs pissing in the post office while natives push ahead of me in line. The one I marry doesn’t push.

And then we have kids. Amen.

Together we push Emma Sigal into this world on September 28, 2002. Even though we are in the habit of blowing off all things Jewish at that point, the fact that it is Simchat Torah and Shabbat does not escape us. Nineteen months later, out pops Noa Ariel during Shavuot, on Shabbat, in an elevator (we’ll save that story for another time).

Thank God they are both girls. The prospect of hosting any major event eight days after giving birth holds zero appeal. Suffice it to say, the love is deep, their eyelashes are endless, and they both powerpoop up to their necks whenever we are walking out the door.

While we are spared the whole mohel thing at day eight, twelve weeks later we drop off baby Emma at JCC day care, marking the beginning of the end of our Jewish hiatus.

At 18 months, Emma starts singing Passover songs before the snow has melted. That year, we have a seder – one punctuated by her random, ruthless dayeinus which are sweet enough to kill me. At two, Emma’s tekiahs mark the new year. Benny, who hasn’t been to services in 24 years, suggests we go for the High Holidays. Whether Emma is leading him by the hand or the heart, I do not know.

Next comes the endless stream of Jewish art projects, all of which deserve to be put to good use. Plastic kiddush cups with jewels and tissue paper squares lovingly glued on, seder plates, rowdy gregors, menorahs with nine nuts in a row, shoebox Shabbat boxes, cinnamon spice boxes and glitter-covered tzedakah boxes.

Our priceless collection of pre-school Judaica

It’s the tzedakah thing which really hooks me. For years, my daughters call all coins “tzedakah.” They have no other vocabulary for money – not penny or nickel or dime.  They watch us record their good deeds on a leaf for the mitzvah trees on their classroom walls. When the girls start reciting the lyrics of every theme song on the Disney Channel, we unplug the TV on Shabbat and start doing family mitzvah projects instead. When it is time to say good-bye to pacifier, we make a special pacifier tzedakah box which my daughter proudly “donates” to the infant/toddler room. (Okay, so all hell breaks loose that night, but it was nice in theory.)

Next come the tough questions. Some from the girls and some of my own. Does God have a birthday? We’ll have to ask the rabbi, sweetheart. Is the rabbi God? No. Is the bathtub connected to the floor? Yes, sweetheart. Is that the way God made it?

How do we answer that? As a preschooler in the cornfields of Iowa, I thought Santa Claus was God. And it progressed from there. God is a cloud painter in the sky. He wears a mint green beret.  A She, not a He. God to G-d to god to a word I won’t say at all. In English. Unless it is followed by dammit. Except on highly turbulent flights.

Benny believes in God. My little girls believe in everything. I believe in a big, fat question mark on my good days. Am I a complete hypocrite? Is it okay to do Judaism as it suits us?

We ask questions and help each other find answers. They have expectations. We try not to crush them. Emma plants parsley with Grandpa for Tu B’shvat. Noa insists her Princess Barbie goblets are Kiddush cups – no ifs, ands or buts. When they are clever enough to notice, we expand our Passover observance to include bread and cereal. We finally join a synagogue.

I realize Judaism is our rhythm, a way to mark the seasons, a shared history and culture, a starting point for forming values, a community to celebrate with and a support system on days we don’t want to be alone. Shabbat is family time – a value we embrace. We light the candles. We eat pork kabobs. And we dance.

Aaron puts the Ju-wish in Judo

For the Cohen family of Buffalo Grove, athletic ability of Olympic proportions runs in the family.

Aaron Cohen, first alternate on this year’s Olympic Judo team set to compete in Beijing this month, follows in the footsteps of his father, Irwin Cohen, who competed in Judo in the 1972 Olympics, and his uncle, Steve Cohen who competed in the 1988 Games.

“I always wanted to be an Olympian because of my father,” says Cohen, who found himself as an alternate for the third time after losing in the finals of the Olympic trials due to what he describes as a controversial call. “It’s heartbreaking to come so close.”

Despite the close call, Cohen has had much success in his Judo career, and currently stands as the 2008 USA Judo Senior National Champion. When he is not traveling and competing, Cohen teaches at the Cohen's Judo Club with his dad, uncle and brother R.J., and is also the assistant wrestling coach at Deerfield High School.



Aaron, getting ready to toss you over his shoulder

“It’s not just the competing,” Cohen says of his love for his sport. “It’s a lot of dedication and hard work. I love that I get to travel the world and see a lot of stuff. The coolest thing is that I meet friends from all over the world.”

In fact, he will soon be traveling to Israel for the wedding of Arik Zeevi, a close friend and Judo expert, who Cohen says is a “superstar” in Israel.

“Judo is the second-most practiced sport in the world. It’s small in the U.S., but it’s a world power in other countries like Israel, Japan and Lithuania,” he says. Athletes like Zeevi, he says, are like celebrities in their respective countries.

Since visiting Israel himself last year, Cohen says his Jewish identity and connection to the homeland is much stronger, but Judaism and Judo, though they share a common syllable, are separate passions in his life.

“I love being Jewish and I love being an athlete—though I’m not sure how they relate,” he says.

But whenever he travels for competitions, Cohen is certain to bring his good-luck charm—a mezuzah. “It was good luck when I brought it on my first trip so now I bring it everywhere I go,” he says.

Though he is the first alternate, Cohen says unless one of the eight-team members gets injured before the Olympics, there is not much chance he’ll travel to China, because there is only one day of competition in Beijing.

But we haven’t seen the last of Cohen.

“I will try again for the 2012 Games in London,” he says. “And if the Olympics are in Chicago, I might stick around for those too.”

If your brain is turning to mush from too much US Weekly and your eyes are tired from too much online reading, it might be time to hit the beach, or even the couch, with a book! If you’re in the mood for something Jewish, look no further than The Jewish Book Network, an organization of the Jewish Book Council, it sends Jewish authors across the country to promote their work.

Take a look at the council’s hot list for the hot month.

1. If You Awaken Love, by Emunah Elon, translated by David Hazony (Toby Press). In the time between the Six-Day War and Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination, we meet Shlomtzion, who abandoned her religious nationalism and moved to Tel Aviv after her fiancé, Yair, broke off their engagement. She is forced to confront her former life and love when her newly religious daughter becomes engaged to Yair’s son and moves to the West Bank.

2. Camp Camp, by Roger Bennett (Crown). Want to relive the overnight camp experience? The photographs and personal anecdotes included in this collection largely center on Jewish summer camps and the experiences taking place therein, reminding us why summer camp so vivid in our minds.



3.  Israel Through My Lens , by David Rubinger (Abbeville Press). Master photojournalist David Rubinger documented Israel’s birth and the major events that have occurred in the last 60 years. This telling of his life and career includes some of his most famous photos, the stories behind them as well as some never-before-published works.

4.  Light Fell , by Evan Fallenberg (Soho Press). In this work of fiction, we’re introduced to Joseph, who left his wife and five sons after an affair with a rabbi. After 20 years apart, he invites his sons to spend Shabbat with him in honor of his 50th birthday. As the reunion draws near, Joseph’s sons, ranging from extremely religious to secular, look back on the events that transpired and address their feelings toward their father.



5.  It’s Only Temporary , by Evan Handler (Riverhead Hardcover). While assessing his life since recovery from leukemia more than 20 years ago, the actor and author addresses the question “How can a person live well with the knowledge that time is limited?” The series of autobiographical stories tell a story of love and transformation.

6.  Sarah’s Key , by Tatiana de Rosnay (St. Martin’s Press). Julia, an American who has lived in Paris for 20 years, is tasked with covering the 60th anniversary of the Vél' d'Hiv'—the 1942 Paris roundups and deportations, where thousands of Jewish families were arrested, held at the Vélodrome d'Hiver outside the city, then transported to Auschwitz—for the American magazine she writes for. Through her research, Julia uncovers information about the deported Jewish occupants of the home she and her husband plan to move into, her husband’s family, France and herself.



7.  More Than It Hurts You , by Darin Strauss (Dutton Adult). When Josh Goldin’s 8-month-old son, Zack, is hospitalized twice with serious symptoms, Dr. Darlene Stokes tells Child Protective Services that she thinks Josh's wife suffers from Munchausen syndrome—where the afflicted purposely injure their children to get attention. As we follow the Goldins’ battle for child custody, this novel raises issues of parents’ rights and of race as Josh’s belief that ignorance can be a virtue and happiness is a choice are tested.

The Jewish Book Network helps communities locate Jewish authors and heighten awareness of both the books and Jewish culture. Get more information about the Jewish Book Council .

Sarah, Oy!’s own kosher wine expert

Kosher wine.

For many of us, those two small words pack a big, sweet, grapey, syrupy, low-alcohol, Manischevitz-endorsed punch. We have memories of tasting it for the first time in elementary school—at synagogue, at Bubbe’s seder, at cousin Bobby’s bar mitzvah—and either loving it (“Yummy, tastes like grape Nerds!”) or loathing it (“Yuck, this stuff tastes like Robitussin!”).

Then something changed. All of a sudden, Jewish teenagers and young adults, tall and short, rural and urban, Reform and Conservative, latke fans and hamentaschen aficionados, found themselves standing in solidarity against one modern-day Haman.

Kosher wine.

My quest for swillable kosher vino started during college when I hosted seders for (almost exclusively) non-Jewish peers. I was hell-bent on showing these folks that there was good kosher (and kosher for Passover at that!) wine to be had. Most of my friends didn’t understand why I was so hung up on the kosher issue. “What’s the big deal?” they’d ask. “Who cares if a rabbi didn’t bless the grapes or whatever, wine is wine.” Or I’d hear, “it’s not like there’s pig’s blood in non-kosher wine, so drink up!”

These are only two examples that show just how misunderstood kosher wine is, and I continue to hear them to this day. So it is with enthusiasm and (a bit of a hangover) that I dispel some common myths about kosher wine, and introduce you to two summer-worthy bottles that friends and I tasted in the spirit of Oy!

Kosher wine starts off just like any other wine. Grapes are inherently kosher, and grapes of many different varietals, from the super bitter Concord grapes that go into the stereotypical Manischevitz wines, to Pinot Grigio, Merlot, Shiraz, Chardonnay, and others, are grown in vineyards across the globe, from the US to Israel, Italy to Australia. But unlike non-kosher wines, there are extra restrictions on what equipment can be used in the winery, who can touch the product and how it can be purified.

Some fast facts:

• All wine production is under strict rabbinical supervision, and observant Jews do all work (many producers employ the ultra-Orthodox for this reason).
• The equipment used to crush, refine and bottle the wines must be rabbinically certified.
• No non-kosher ingredients, including yeasts and other purifying agents, may be used to make kosher wine. This becomes an important distinction because there are times when non-kosher wineries use gelatin, casein, isinglass, and yes, even ox blood, in the fining process.
• No preservatives or artificial coloring may be added to kosher wine.
• All kosher wines are vegetarian, though not all are necessarily vegan (albumin may sometimes be used in the fining process).

From the time the grapes are growing in the vineyard through consumption, kosher wine must be handled exclusively by Jews, otherwise it becomes un-kosher. There is one exception to this: mevushal wine.

Depending on whom you ask, “mevushal” means “cooked,” “boiled,” or “pasteurized.” Mevushal wines used to be heated to 185 degrees Fahreinheit for 22 seconds, but are now usually flash pasteurized. This additional step of flash pasteurization allows the wine to maintain its structure and integrity while still rendering it mevushal. Once a wine is mevushal, it can be handled by anyone, regardless of religious observance, and still be kosher.

So there you have it. Yes, there are a few differences between kosher and non-kosher winemaking processes, but for the most part the kosher wines are simply more naturally produced. Could my friends and I taste the difference? Here’s what we thought of two summery white wines: Galil Mountain 2006 Chardonnay and Bartenura 2007 Pinot Grigio.

First up, the Galil Mountain Chardonnay. It’s from the higher elevations of the Upper Galilee, part of the Galil viticultural area, which is considered the best in Israel. Bright yellow in color, it was fruity on the nose, with hints of apricot. On first sip, it was slightly thick but still a bit soft and tasted of honey and pineapple. Further along we got a slightly effervescent, citrusy kick. We couldn’t agree on whether it was lime or kumquat. There was some definite butter in this chardonnay, and some oak but it was pretty mild. If you drink this wine I hope you like it, because it has a very long finish to it.

All in all, we didn’t dislike it. One of us generally has a strong distaste for Chardonnay, but found this one passable.

The verdict: If you like Chardonnay in general, and don’t mind some sweetness and fruit in your wine, give this a shot.

Now onto the Bartenura Pinot Grigio. Bet you didn’t know they made kosher wine in Italy, did you? According to the bottle, this one hails “from the sunny hillsides of Lombardia,” which is home to Milan and the superswanky Lake Como in the north of Italy. This wine didn’t have much nose or much color to it—“a good Shabbat wine, since you’re not supposed to work on Shabbat, if you spill this you really can wait until the Monday morning dry cleaning run,” a friend said. It was crisper than the Chardonnay, and dry but not overly so. It had a mild tartness to it and definite mineral and vegetal tastes, along with some green apple. Further into the glass it had a slightly astringent alcohol smell, but it didn’t overwhelm us. This had a slightly shorter finish than the Chard and was pretty well balanced.

Of the two wines we tasted, we definitely preferred the Pinot Grigio but that could be because we tend to like drier wines in general.

But I’m proud to say that I managed to find drinkable—even enjoyable—kosher wines with no discernable difference between them and any other moderately priced non-kosher bottles.

So, here’s to summer, L’chaim!

Both wines were purchased at Sam’s Wine and Spirits on Roosevelt Road for under $15 each. For a wider selection of kosher wines, swing by the Binny’s at Clark and Wellington.

Alyssa with her newest inherited ‘prized possession’ from Grandma

After living in Boca Raton for nearly 30 years, my grandmother has moved back to Chicago. She brought 64 boxes of her most prized possessions with her, from the small kitten-shaped cookie jar to ancient, odorless potpourri satchels. My family, believing that she simply needed reminders of home, helped her unpack these items and find space for them in her cozy, one-bedroom apartment.  After we hung the familiar paintings of Jewish men in the Old Country (there must be at least 10), and got a whiff of Grandma’s signature scent – mothballs and Estee Lauder Azureé - it finally felt like she was home.

Reminders of home, however, were not exactly what she had in mind. No sooner had we unpacked those 64 boxes than Grandma began giving everything away. To me.

I’ve become accustomed to her new greeting each time I come to visit, “Hi, did you eat? Do you like this vase? Take it! It’s an antique!”

This particular vase was gold, with a floral motif. I asked where it came from, hoping to hear that it came with my great-grandmother when she immigrated from Poland, or that she and my grandfather picked it up in Austria when they went to visit his relatives, but instead she told me that friends of hers picked it up somewhere in New Jersey.

I asked, “Then how do you know it’s an antique?”  She waved me off as if my question was ridiculous. After all, if it’s old, it must be an antique.

Since Grandma moved here in February, I’ve picked up a new silver (ish) bracelet, a tiered serving dish that may have been attractive in 1952, a chipped lox and bagel platter, a window crystal, a plastic, neon green bowl and a package of doilies (because a good hostess is never without them – what if the neighbors stop by?). After I returned from a spring trip to Israel, Grandma surprised me with paperweights etched with the image of the Western Wall.  I tried to explain to her that, had I wanted paperweights with the Western Wall on them, I would have purchased them myself.  In Israel.  But she insisted I take them.  After all, they were antiques.



A good hostess is never without doilies

Part of me cringes as I take home each “antique,” knowing my husband will look at the item and ask me if I ever plan to use it, and where I think I’m going to store it. Even though most of it would be considered junk in other people’s eyes, I can’t bring myself to refuse anything. The items may not have any monetary value, but they’re my grandma’s, and she wants me to have them.

Prior to my last visit to Grandma’s, she called to ask if I had enough picture frames. Even though I said yes, she had a stack waiting for me in the living room, and said that if I wanted any, I could just remove the photos and take the frames.

The frames were falling apart – many had lost their hooks and had been hung on a makeshift string, some had lost their stands and were propped against books – but what interested me more than the frames were the photos inside of them.

One black-and-white photo captured my grandma’s niece, Barbara, laughing at something or some one behind the camera. As I studied it, my grandma told me that Barbara was always smiling, always happy. I never knew that about Barbara, who had been my mom’s dear friend, and who passed away before I was born. Looking at the photo made me smile, too.

An older photo featured a young couple posing with a toddler. “That’s me,” said Grandma, pointing to the baby. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this old.”  I was shocked to see my great-grandmother in her 20s; in my mind she was always 98-years-old. Yet here she sat with her young, handsome husband, not quite smiling, but certainly not looking like the old lady I remembered.

I told Grandma that I’d take the frames, as long as she’d give me the photos. “You like those old photos? Look at the albums in the den and take what you like.”

Together we pored over the old photo books. One picture featured my grandfather’s mother, who was killed in Auschwitz. Another showed my (now divorced) mom and dad the night before their wedding. Someone in the room must have said something funny, because the camera caught them looking at each other and laughing. My favorite photo was of my mom at her graduation, with blond hair to her waist and wearing bell-bottoms -- yet looking exactly like me.

I took home four framed pictures, two albums and a magnetic beaded necklace that night. The enthusiasm I demonstrated for the photos likely means there will be a fresh stack waiting for me next time I visit. If it means I also get to hear family stories and spend time with my grandma, I’ll bring home a set of novelty coasters and an “antique” brooch if she wants me to. Looking around my own living room, I’m starting to realize her tchatchkees add a bit of charm to my otherwise Crate and Barrel-filled home. And if someone asks where I got that crazy vase, I can just smile, shrug, and say it’s an antique.

Brad and T.J., two camp lovers making summer memories last all year long

About a month ago, I joined Twitter and became addicted to sending out “tweets” to my friends.  I’ve gone beyond using the mainstream social networking sites like Facebook, My Space, and Youtube, and have begun experimenting with Flickr, del.icio.us LinkedIn, Jewcy, Second Life and Tumblr.  I know I have a “problem,” but I’m not alone.  Social networking sites have been growing at an astounding rate. In fact, according to a recent teleconference I attended on social media, more than 57% of Jews belong to a social network. With more than ½ billion users worldwide, the demand for these sites continues to grow and the potential seems limitless.  

Two locals are hoping to cash in on the phenomenon. About a year ago, T.J. Shanoff and Brad Spirrison created MyCampFriends.com, a site inspired by their mutual love for overnight camp and social networking.

For 15 years, T.J. attended Harand Camp in Wisconsin as a camper, counselor and staff member. He recalls his summers there as some of the “most significant and indelible experiences” he’s ever had. Brad agrees. A camper at Camp Deerhorn, Brad describes camp as a place where he, “learned how to befriend and compete with others and also get up on a pair of water skis.”  They both have always loved camp and were surprised that there really wasn’t a specific space online where they could find other enthusiasts and former bunkmates.

“It struck me that there was no one website dedicated to fellow camp-fans to share their camp-specific memories with their camp friends; hence MyCampFriends.com,” explains T.J. “There are a few other, smaller sites which have come along since then, but we were the first—and, we believe, the most fun and ‘campy.’”

”MyCampFriends.com offers a place online where you will find nobody else but your camp friends and others who cherish the existence of camp,” says Brad. “The fun part is when you get all those people together sharing laughs, memories and visions of things to come.”

So far, the majority of people who have signed on are camp alumni ranging in age anywhere from their early 20’s through their 50’s. Individuals can create their own profile pages, upload their favorite videos and connect with other campers.

But as the site continues to grow and expand, the guys hope to reach out to camps and camp directors with the goal of creating more pages dedicated to individual camps rather than just individual campers. 

Crystalaire Camp has really utilized the site’s tools, say the creators. After decades in one location, Crystalaire recently relocated. The camp director wanted to ensure that alumni would be aware of the change and used its MyCampFriends.com page to spread the word. In the end, Crystalaire was so happy with the outcome that it created a “virtual reunion” page for alumni who are unable to attend the camps annual reunion.

“We feel [Crystalaire] is just scratching the surface of the way we can work with camps to keep their campers and alumni thinking about camp and their camp friends all year round,” says T.J. “Some camps have very extensive profiles with beautiful narratives, pictures and videos. Others have sort of a thumbnail description with limited users. Every camp grows at its own pace.”

As a proud alumnus of camp Bnai Brith Beber, in Mukwonago, WI, I used the camp directory to look up my old stomping grounds. I was excited to see that my camp has a presence on the site, although nowhere near Crystalaire Camp, and it inspired me to reach out to some of my old camp friends who I’d previously stayed in contact with only via Facebook.

In addition to finding my old camp, I also toured some of the sites other features. My favorite was the “ask the camp nurse page.”  The page features a large picture of “Nurse Candy” and her even larger syringe needle at the ready to dispense shots to unwilling campers.



Scrape your knee during dodgeball? Want to know how to cure that stuffy nose? As MyCampFriends.com’s resident nurse, “Nurse Candy”

T.J. explained that the page is inspired by his own experiences at the nurses’ office.  “I had asthma and allergies like any good Jew at theater camp, so I spent a lot of time with the nurse. It was the only place at camp that was air-conditioned, and they had a TV, which meant I could watch ‘WKRP’ re-runs in 72 degrees while everyone else was playing Capture the Flag in 95 degree heat. Those fools!”

Even though the site is still very new (their membership numbers are in the thousands), the two are thrilled by the positive responses they’ve been getting. “While there is a lot of work to be done, it is satisfying to see how people are responding and we are very anxious to see how this all goes,” says Brad. “We’d love for this to be a full-time gig, or, better yet, something to retire from.”

For now, though, they both continue at day jobs they love. T.J. is employed at The Second City where he has co-written and directed such shows as “Jewsical: The Musical.”  And Brad, who has always been in the internet business, contributes to a number of Web sites and has a weekly column about the internet, innovations and entrepreneurs for The Chicago Sun Times.

But they make plenty of time for social networking, updating content frequently and expanding pages. In fact, Brad hinted that future projects are in the works. “In addition to going deeper in the camp world, we are learning what this demographic wants in other spheres of their life. Don’t be surprised to see a few spin-offs soon.”  To which T.J. added, “Yes, yes, yes!  Stay tuned for our next site later this summer.” 

Caryn, leader of the young leaders

Caryn Peretz is not only a professional Jew; she is a philanthropic and social Jew too. As the director of the JUF’s Young Leadership Division (YLD), she plays a key role in developing programs and activities that serve the department’s outreach, leadership development and fundraising goals. She began her Jewish communal career with JUF’s YLD in 2001. A year later, in response to the anti-Israel sentiment on college campuses across the country, Caryn founded the ZAP Israel Advocacy Program, the first city-wide, non-denominational Israel education program for high school students in Chicago. This program was adopted by Shorashim, where Caryn spent four years working as the Director of High School Programs. In her volunteer life, Caryn serves on the executive committee of AIPAC’s Young Leadership Council, and on the Board of Directors of Citypac, Chicago’s bipartisan pro-Israel political action committee

So whether you’re a young Jew looking for ways to get involved in the community, you love rocking out to Israeli music after hours or you too spend your Saturday nights at Hub51, Caryn Peretz is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
When I was very young, I wanted to work at The Jewel (I think because of the little orange stickers they used to give out). As I grew up, I went through many career changes - I wanted to be an artist, a teacher, and a photographer for National Geographic. Only in college did I discover what I really wanted to do - serve as a Jewish Communal Professional, which I have been doing ever since.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love working in the Jewish community. It allows me to turn my life’s passions into a full time job.  I grew up in a household that emphasized a love of Judaism and Israel, and I feel lucky that I still get to spend everyday of my life surrounded by the same values. Any time there are Jews in need, anywhere in the world, JUF rises to the occasion and is there to help. I am proud to work for such an organization, and especially to be part of a Federation that so deeply values young leadership and the next generation’s role within the institution.

3. What are you reading? 
Leadership on the Line - a professional development recommendation from my boss.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago? 
This is definitely not a question with just one answer. I need to break this one up into categories.
Casual Fun: Wildfire (best salad in Chicago, and I have many great memories of celebrations with family and friends), and Uncle Julio's Hacienda 
Upscale Fun: Joe's
Late-Night: Tempo 
Workday Lunch: Salad Spinners 

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
I won't go so far as to say "world peace" (standard beauty pageant answer), but if I could invent a way to have peace in the Middle East and protect Israel, I would do that.

6. Would you rather have the ability of fly or the ability to be invisible?
Invisible for sure! But I would have to be careful not to abuse this power.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
A lot of Israeli and country music. And "We are the World," one of the best songs ever recorded. The Israeli music somehow finds its way out in the later hours of my parties.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
My favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago is to be actively involved with organizations that serve the causes I believe in (JUF/YLD, AIPAC, and Citypac). I love attending meaningful and fun events, and meeting people who share my values. On a lighter note, another Jewish activity of late is going to Hub51, where every Jew in Chicago seems to be hanging out on the weekends.

Orit Vardi stands in front of Growing 2008, the mural being created under her supervision by 30 youth in the Bricolage program.

Over the past year, while walking or running under the Bryn Mawr underpass at Lake Shore Drive, I’ve admired the sparkling colors and tiles, wondering who was responsible for this gorgeous mural. Then, a few months ago, my friend Orit mentioned that she was hiring teens to create another mural for the Bryn Mawr underpass.

Wait - did they already do one on the north side of the street? Can I help? Will you hire me? She responded accordingly, “Sure, if you’re under 18.”

I got past my disappointment (eventually) and spoke with Orit, about her experience in Avodah: The Jewish Service Corps, her job at Alternatives, and Bricolage, the program responsible for the mosaic murals.

Avodah is sort of like The Real World, sans camera. For one year, seven Jewish young adults live together in an Andersonville apartment and each work at a different nonprofit. They learn about social justice and each other’s Jewish backgrounds and religious practices. Orit explains, “We spent the year learning about different issues in the city, looking at Jewish roots and values, discussing the Jewish outlook on social justice, and talking about how we can bring all of those things together in the work that we do and in the lives that we lead. It’s been a really inspirational year.”

Many of the issues the group learned about during the year - housing, homelessness, environmental justice, incarceration – have directly affected many youth that Orit counsels at Alternatives, where she works in career and employment services. She helps youth ages 16-24 who don’t have many resources at home to prepare for their first jobs, write resumes, research colleges, explore careers, conduct interviews, fill out applications and more.

For 30 fortunate youth, the Bricolage program is their first summer job. Teens under 18 have to go through an extensive application process, including an interview with Orit, who supervises the program.

Hard at work, using mirror tiles to outline large images

In its third summer, the Bricolage program is well under way. I couldn’t believe the progress that had been made since the first tiles were installed on July 2. Only a few weeks prior I had run past and noticed mirror tiles forming simple outlines across the wall. It looked vastly different the other day when I stopped by to check it out.

As I walked up to the site, a car drove by honking at the teens and someone leaned out the window and yelled, “It looks beautiful!” And it does.

The mural is progressing. Ceramic flowers and butterflies made by community groups fill the center of the wall, forming a community garden.

The theme for this year’s mural is, Growing 2008. The images focus on nature and history in the Edgewater community.  The middle of the mural features a community garden that was literally made by the community. Different community groups, including Heartland Alliance, church groups, book clubs, youth groups, and others made ceramic flowers and butterflies earlier this year that the teens then glazed and included in the mural.

Sculpted leaves jut out of the wall, adding texture and variety to the mural’s community garden.

Another section contains a family tree, featuring a photo wall of past and present community members. Throughout the mural are historic Edgewater buildings, leaves, flowers, animals, and patterns that represent different ethnic groups in Edgewater.

The family tree portion of the mural depicts past and present Edgewater community members.

The two artists leading the process are high school art teachers Tracy Van Duinen and Todd Osborne. They created the design along with the help of the community – condo associations, senior centers, the Edgewater Community Council, individual families and others are all involved in planning and executing the designs along with the youth.

Artist Tracy Van Duinen touches up some cement before debriefing about the day with the youth apprentices.

Van Duinen explained that this is a way for teens to get involved in their community in a new way. Orit agrees that the youth are definitely feeling a sense of community from the project. The media usually portrays teenagers in a negative light, but during this project, she says, every single day, “you have community members walking by, talking to them and asking them questions, clapping, telling them just how wonderful they are, and how they’re really leaving their print on the community.”

With only a few weeks left, the mural is almost complete. Each purple line in the grid above represents a street in the Edgewater neighborhood.

Besides a sense of pride at their accomplishments, youth are gaining both art skills, professional skills and a sense of community. The project culminates with a huge community event on Saturday, August 9th which the mayor and alderman both plan to attend.

This sense of community and the importance of giving back to the community was a theme in Avodah as well. Orit only worked with one Jewish teen during this past year, but she notes that the Jewish component of her work is expressed through implementing Jewish values instead - looking at Jewish texts and ideologies and reaching a state of equal justice for all. “Judaism is involved even when you’re not at a Jewish organization or working with a Jewish population.”

Stop by and check out the mural at Bryn Mawr under Lake Shore Drive. It’s almost complete, and on a sunny day the light ripples across the tiles bringing the images to life. Last year’s mural, Living 2007, is on the north side of the street; Growing 2008 is on the south.

Brooke and Mike 'can't help falling in love' at Graceland

My first instinct when my Prince Charming asked me to marry him was to head down to City Hall for a no muss/no fuss wedding—at 10:30 a.m. to avoid the lunch rush. When my Mom, with tears in her eyes, asked me if I was not going to have her under the chuppah with me, I realized that I not only wanted her there, I wanted my Judaism there too. Chuppah, Mom and all.

My mother was a single parent and worked very hard to take care of me and my sister after our Dad died. She sent me to Jewish Day School, Jewish camp and on trips to Israel. She made sure that I would have the skills and knowledge to be a strong Jew in a non-Jewish world. So on second thought, no offense David Orr Cook County Clerk, you’re no rabbi. 

I am such a proud, hard core, in your face, I-bring-the-Jew-to-the-table kind of girl, that I don’t know what I was thinking. I take pride in speaking Hebrew, wearing my “Herzl is my Homeboy” t-shirt and knowing my Jewish history. I corrected a tour guide at the Coliseum in Rome who generically claimed slaves built the Coliseum. Oh contraire, JEWISH slaves built the Coliseum. I can’t believe I was going to skip the chuppah. I realized then that I still wanted my wedding to be small and Jewish but I also wanted it to be unique.

Thinking of what was different and Jewish, I first though of Curacao’s synagogue. A quick cruise from Florida, a stop at the synagogue. How lovely. But a residency requirement from Curacao nixed that. Being a CTA fan, I considered renting an El train. Three hours gets you and your guests wherever there is track and you can even have food and drinks! But, ultimately, it was a comment from Patty, the event planner at Graceland, which made up my mind.

Prince Charming—also known as Mike—and I had been to Memphis and were charmed by the city and its close/solid Jewish community. When Patty gave us the price of having a wedding at Graceland she mentioned that it included the minister. When I told Patty I was Jewish and would be using a rabbi she said, “I don’t think we’ve had a Jewish wedding here before.”  Light bulb!  I asked her to check on that and two days later she called to say that if Mike and I chose Graceland, we’d be the first Jewish couple to marry there. In my own little way I was going to be a pioneer.

Because we started planning this July 4 wedding on June 5—that’s four whole weeks!—things started to come together quickly. We had the place (Graceland) and the city (Memphis) but no rabbi, hotel, restaurant, etc. Keeping with our Memphis/Jewish theme we decided to have dinner on a Riverboat on the Mississippi and serve BBQ brisket, cornbread challah, greens, corn and an oh-so-southern Red Velvet cake.

To make the wedding a bit more Elvis-like, we had a Cantor officiate instead of a rabbi—thank you Cantor David Julian for making our wedding more meaningful than I could ask for. And to make it more “us” we made our own chuppah (which was then schlepped from Chicago to Memphis by car—thanks Mom) and ordered blue suede kippot, as is only right at Elvis’s house.

Blue suede 'kippot'

It wasn't city hall on a Tuesday and I'm glad. It was a great ceremony, blending the best of the unconventional feel we wanted and Jewish traditions that are so important to us. Being the first Jewish couple to wed at Graceland secures for us a special place in history and I couldn't have been more excited to say my "I do" in front of family, God and Elvis.

Brooke Mandrea has been asked 6 times, said yes 4 times, but has only gotten married this once. She is a city girl who rarely ventures north of North Avenue. When she is not being a Jewish pioneer, she works on Overseas Programs and Projects at the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Chicago. Luckily, that is exactly what she would want to do even if she didn't have bills to pay. She is also a voracious reader but only a few pages at a time.

Rich Levy, the head tomato

Even if you don’t personally know Richard Levy, you probably do know his salads. The founding president and CEO of Salad Spinners Corp—or head tomato as he’s most often referred to—invented the business Salad Spinners, a creative salad and sandwich lunch option, seven years ago. Born in Johannesburg, South Africa, and raised in Highland Park, Levy started his career in the food-service industry nearly a decade ago as an analyst in the meat processing and baked goods manufacturing industry in South Africa. Soon after, he headed back to Chicago, where he immersed himself in learning the inner-workings of the restaurant biz. Today, Salad Spinners has four downtown Chicago locations and a catering business. Levy’s business donates money to local (preferably grassroots) philanthropies of his customers’ choosing. In addition to his entrepreneurial prowess, he’s active in Chicago’s young Jewish community and, through his business, does his best to give back to the community. In fact, during Passover, in the spirit of the holiday, Salad Spinners serves up matzoh with each of his salads to accommodate his fellow Jewish patrons.

So whether you’re a fledgling entrepreneur, a U2, Sting, and Springsteen junkie, or you just really like a “big salad,” like Elaine from “Seinfeld,” Richard Levy is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to own a pet store and/or be a game ranger in Africa where I grew up. It’s like having a larger pet store.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
The independence. Being able to make my guests happy. Being able to create whatever I want and not have to answer to anyone.

3. What are you reading?  
Small Giants by Bo Burlingham.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago? 
China Grill or anything by Lettuce Entertain You.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
Engines that can run on combustible sewage or garbage.

6. Would you rather have the ability of fly or the ability to be invisible?
Do I really get to choose? OK—fly—because…well let’s just say that I can’t stand walking.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Lots of Barry Manilow, and Neil Diamond…kidding…seriously don’t print that…I am really into old Eddie Grant, Johnny Clegg, and The Replacements. Also, I function well on a steady diet of U2, Sting, and Springsteen.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
I hit up the bris and bar/bat mitzvah circuit—lots of lox and bagels for free! Kidding. I think Federation is outstanding in the way they get young Jews to connect from all over Chicagoland. Our JUF Mission to Israel—two buses full—was proof of that.

Leah Jones is always plugged in to Jewish life in Chicago

As I write this, Leah Jones is in San Francisco—and pictures from the trip are available now on her Flickr page. She’s enjoying herself, but she’s feeling out of sorts because, though she shared a three bedroom in the city’s Mission neighborhood during the summer of 1996, nothing looks familiar. She hasn’t told me any of this personally. In fact the last time (and first time) we talked was the Friday before her trip to California. The truth is, I don’t know Leah.

Leah Jones is a professional social networker. In her role as a Digital Culture Evangelist at Edelman Public Relations she aspires to boost the digital savvy of every PR professional. She places people on a 1-10 scale—with a 1 being someone whose digital smarts end with Outlook and a 10 being an all out digital geek—and aims to help make each and every one a better digital communicator.

“We want everyone to understand how to make technology work for clients,” she says. In addition to serving as the “sort of wrangler” for EdelmanDigital.com and writing the Friday 5—a weekly email newsletter to the staff with five tips on getting the most from one kind of media such as Facebook, Flickr or Twitter—she travels to other Edelman offices to lead digital bootcamps.

As someone who believes in the power of social networking, but refused to join Facebook until this year (and yes, I heart Facebook. I was wrong) and recently participated in The Modern Letter Project, I was interested in chatting with Leah about how she got into social networking, whether its good for the Jews and where she thinks it’s headed.

When I was a kid, my friend Christina’s family not only had a computer—they had this wacky thing called Prodigy that, as I understood, allowed their computer to talk to other computers. I had a Speak and Spell. Christina was a 10; I was a 1. I wondered where Leah fell on the early technology scale.

“I wasn’t into Prodigy or computers as a kid but my brother was. He is six years older than I am and has been on the web forever. His experience made me comfortable with it,” she says. But she was still an early adopter. Leah’s online life can be traced back to high school. “In 1992-93, there was an Indiana bulletin board on telnet that I would dial into and write bad poetry,” she says.

Like many of us who went to college in the early-mid 1990s, access was an issue. “In college, during my freshman year, we only had one computer lab with internet access and it was only for business students,” Leah says. She graduated from teen angst poetry and then from college, going on to Friendster and ultimately blogging.

She had recently moved to London for a five-month job and was looking for a way to keep up with friends, family and co-workers when she started Leah in Chicago. It was during that stretch that she realized the reach of blogging. “It was the first time I answered an article request that I found on Craig’s List, and Craig—Craig Newmark [the founder of Craig’s List]—left a comment on my blog. That was the first time I was like whoa; anyone can get to this,” she says.

Armed with the knowledge that any old stranger—or worse, boss or parent—can read the personal details of your life, many bloggers struggle with what to share and what to keep to themselves. “I started out very careful because I was working in education; I would say after a year or two I loosened up.”

And when she did, traffic spiked. “The biggest growth in traffic was when I started converting and blogging that experience in December 2004. That’s when I really started reading and commenting on other blogs and building a community,” Leah says.

Today, she’s one of the leaders of the Jewish online community. She has 600 Facebook friends and is a member of 27 groups—many of them are Jewish or Israel related. On Twitter, (the micro-blogging site that allows you to send updates—or tweets—in the form of short, text-based posts) Leah follows 309 people and has 1,383 people following her. On Flickr, she has 153 friends. “I love Flickr and del.icio.us as ways to get to know people. The links people share and the images they choose to share say a lot about them,” she says. 

When she went to Israel last June, Twitter saved her ass. “I was going to a Twitter meet-up and when I got there my host wasn’t there. I sent a Twitter message saying: “ ‘I’m in Tel Aviv without a backup plan’ and someone picked me up.” Pretty cool.

At home, social networking keeps her connected to the Jewish community. “Young Jews in Chicago are doing things. On Facebook, I am a member of every major Chicago Jewish group and I get invited to events all of the time,” Leah says. And it’s not just her. “Last night I was on the bus and these women were talking about Kfar and Facebook. It’s a great way to find out if there’s an event going on, but I want to see groups get out of Facebook a little because it doesn’t give you Google power,” she says. 

“Google is important because for many people, the online experience starts with a Google or Yahoo search. If your group is buried deep in the results (beyond the second or third page) and it is only on Facebook, people will have a much harder time finding you,” says Leah.

Looking ahead, she believes mobility will be increasingly important. “The next big thing might not be Twitter but what Twitter allows you to do—send group texts to get information and find out where people are.” And maybe that’s the appeal--getting to actually see your friends in the flesh. “Or, maybe the next big thing will be more traditional—like Shabbat dinner; getting offline and actually meeting people,” she says. And if you read her blog, you know that’s something Leah herself has been committed to doing this summer.

So, does Leah Jones ever unplug? “I would like to unplug more than I do,” she says.  “For the first time ever, I kept Shabbat when I was in Israel this summer. I had everything off and I was like, ‘Oh, this is what my life used to be like.’ I don’t do it very often, but I have been cutting down—though you can’t tell by the amount of activity I have online.” 

Check out some of Leah’s online activity here:
www.accidentallyjewish.com
www.edelmandigital.com/blog
www.twitter.com/leahjones
http://www.flickr.com/photos/accidentallyjewish

Rating: Four Stars

Chalkboard, easily elegant

I must first, in the spirit of full disclosure, out myself as a close personal friend of Chalkboard's owner/chef Gil Langlois and his wife, co-owner Elizabeth Laidlaw. However, I also have to say that it would not exactly behoove me to tick off a bunch of potential readers, so the review is as honest and objective as I can be…grain of salt me all you like.

Gil and Elizabeth have created a gorgeous room, romantic enough to be a great date spot, but not so overt as to be alienating for those of us who are dining with friends or family. The menu is full of carefully crafted dishes, with inspired touches…your childhood favorites made sophisticated with a rich tomato soup paired with a blue cheese grilled cheese sandwich on the side, Kobe beef mini burger appetizer with Nueske bacon, truly spectacular fried chicken.

Redefining the slider.

But there is an easy elegance at play here as well. Starters always include diver sea scallops, caramelized on the outside and succulent within, served with a vanilla aioli, spiced walnuts and sugared kalamata olives. Salads are simple and fresh, and the seared tuna cobb, a simple deconstructed plate with sushi grade tuna surrounded by small accompaniments, crisp bacon, blue cheese, caviar with truffle oil, soft poached egg, cucumber brunoise, diced avocado and roasted grape tomatoes, is a revelation.

For entrees, a gorgeous duck cassoulet, topped with meltingly tender slices of duck breast, and just enough back of the throat heat to prevent it from being too rich. Grilled pork tenderloin is perfectly cooked, sitting on a base of sweet corn relish and topped with a light potato salad with apples and celery, which not only complements the pork, but also somehow cleanses the palate between bites. The bouillabaisse is steeped in tradition, served in a small cast iron pot, and full of whatever the day’s freshest seafood and shellfish are on order, in a well seasoned broth that cries out to be sopped up with the warm-from-the-oven rolls. Gil’s recipes are French-influenced American, with more than a hint of high-end comfort food. No meal here is complete without a side dish of the Macaroni and Cheese, rich with smoked gouda. I’ve had dining companions express a wish to eat their way out of a bathtub full of the stuff.

Making it easy to eat your veggies.

The daily specials on the chalkboard always include the freshest fish dishes, and the chef’s current interests, as well as celebrations of the best local produce. On a recent trip, Gil’s take on surf and turf, a beef osso bucco paired with Alaskan Halibut, served with a celery root puree and crispy fried artichokes. Meltingly tender hanger steak, with a fresh chimichurri sauce was also a standout.

Desserts can be hit or miss, sometimes a delight, sometimes better in theory than in practice, but you will never go wrong if you stick with the whimsical chocolate chip cookie dough egg roll, or the fresh berries with yogurt and honey, both consistently wonderful.

The wine list isn’t massive, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in carefully selected bottles in a range of affordable prices. I recommend you start with a glass of Taltarni, a pink sparker from Australia that is my new favorite quaff, and then let Gil or your server make a recommendation.

They don’t take parties of more than six, affirming my belief that unless a small restaurant has a private room to accommodate them, any party larger than that becomes a liability for the other patrons. It isn’t a place for very young children, unless they have sophisticated palates, but it is a spot I have taken both my grandmother and a romantic hopeful with equal success. Well, dining success at any rate. Gil can guarantee a great meal, but not necessarily a new boyfriend!

As a bonus, Saturday and Sunday afternoon high tea is fun. Be sure to get there early as seating is limited, and the made-to-order scones are worth the trip.

Chalkboard is located at 4343 N. Lincoln Ave.

NOSH of the week:
My go-to canapé these days celebrates fresh flavors and will wow your company with a minimum of effort.

1 small baguette French bread, sliced into rounds about ½ inch thick

1 log softened goat cheese (chevre)

3 T honey

3 large peaches

1 package fresh sage, leaves plucked, and halved lengthwise if large

Blend softened goat cheese with honey until smooth. If you like it sweeter, feel free to add more honey. Spread cheese mixture on bread rounds. Slice peaches and put 2-3 slices on each round. Tuck a leaf of sage between the peach slices and serve.

Experiment with other herbs and fruit….plums and lemon thyme, pears and mint, apricots and basil…hit your local farmer’s market and enjoy!

NOSH food read of the week:
My Life In France, by Julia Child

Adam, jumping for your love

… indicates a continuation, a sign that there’s more to say, more to come. And for Adam Blair and his band Dot Dot Dot, that couldn’t be more true.

From the band’s inception, things moved fast. The Chicago-based power pop-rock band played to 1,300 people at its third show. Within five months Dot Dot Dot landed a spot on Fox’s reality TV competition, The Next Great American Band and released a CD. It’s been nine months since the band’s national television debut, and lead singer Adam Blair says his head is still spinning.

“It’s been hectic and insane. It’s great and I love it, and I thank God every day,” he says. “Without music, I’d be 100% screwed. I can’t type, and I don’t spell so good. It’s the only thing I know how to do, the only thing that ever came naturally to me, that I do well. I didn’t get into music, music got into me.”

And it seems that fans and critics get into Dot Dot Dot. Six thousand bands auditioned for The Next Great American Band, 12 made the cut. For six weeks last fall, Adam and band mates Michael, Stephan, Rose and Lisa took their talent—and their eyeliner—to the west coast, where they lived together in the middle of Hollywood with the other bands, including some Christian rockers, a group of pre-teen boys who often performed shirtless and a couple of indie kids from New York.

From week to week the American Idol-style competition kept the bands on their toes, not always giving them a say in what they played. “Some weeks they gave us an artist and catalog to pick from, some weeks they’d pick for us.”

Rose, Michael, Stephan, Lisa and Adam are ...

Adam and Dot Dot Dot took the challenge of playing songs that weren’t necessarily their style in stride. “I’ve played [a mix of] cover songs and my own music my whole life,” Adam says. “I’ve always had an appreciation for other people’s work. We took whatever they gave us and made it our style even if it didn’t start that way.” One of the songs they covered, Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s “Your Song,” remains in their set list today.

Even though the band’s 5th place finish was impressive and the show catapulted Dot Dot Dot to the national stage, Adam was originally opposed to the band’s participation and isn’t sure he’d choose to participate again if the opportunity presented itself. “It’s a battle of the bands, and music is interpretative. Not competitive.”

Currently, Dot Dot Dot is making the rounds at a number of Chicago’s much-loved summer festivals happily playing for the fans, not the judges. “We like playing festivals in the summer. I’m a huge fan of walking on stage and smelling an elephant ear. We like playing outside. Come say hi.”

I had the good fortune to see their set at Midsommarfest in Andersonville last month, and no matter what style they played, Adam, Lisa, Rose, Stephan, and Michael’s energy was undeniable and contagious. Even Adam’s dad is addicted to the music. He insists on working at the band’s merchandise table any time he sees them perform. “We have people who work the merch table,” Adam says, “but he won’t leave!”

Not that Adam minds having his parents around. In fact, his parents mean so much to him that he had a tribute to them tattooed on his arms: Ima (the Hebrew word for “mom”) is inked on his right arm, and Abba (Hebrew for “dad”) is on his left.

“Mom is the kinda super Jewy one in the family. When I took off my jacket and she could see something was there she said, ‘Oh Jesus Christ! Tell me you tattooed yourself.’ The she started crying because she saw it said “Ima.”

So what comes after the … for Adam and Dot Dot Dot? “We’re recording now and we’re on the road touring at least four nights a week. And you can put the word out that I’m looking for people to join my new band, the Rosh Hasha-na-nas; it’s a Jewish Doo-Wop group.” While I was ready to break into a round of “The Great Pretender” for an impromptu audition, this sounded a little suspect to me. Turns out, Adam was kidding.

Catch Adam and Dot Dot Dot at Taste of Lincoln, Retro on Roscoe, and Market Days this summer, as well as a number of other Midwestern bars and festivals. Their self-titled CD is available on their website as well as iTunes. For a full list upcoming shows or more information about Adam, Lisa, Rose, Michael, and Stephan, check out on their official website  or their MySpace page.

The author's daughter making hamentaschen

Coming of age in a suburb where salt and pepper were considered exotic spices, I grew up eating corned beef on white bread with Miracle Whip. My parents served eggnog for Chanukah. I had never heard of kugel, kishke or knishes. The thought of chopped liver made my stomach roil. And don’t even get me started on tongue.

When I became active in the Jewish community, this culture gap became embarrassing. On our second date, my now-husband served me an appetizer of chopped herring and I had no idea what it was. Since so much of Jewish life is about food, my milquetoast upbringing made me a woman without a country, a minister without portfolio in the Jewish world.

I now know a number of women who are converting to Judaism, and most of them worry about what kind of Jewish moms they’ll be without family recipes to hand down to their daughters. I feel their pain.

When I graduated from college, all I had in my Jewish recipe file was my grandmother’s date cake studded with bits of Hershey bars. So I was delighted that when Joel and I got engaged, my mom’s Chavurah offered to host a recipe shower to celebrate. Imagine my surprise when members of the Temple Sisterhood proudly presented me with such recipes as Harriet’s baked brie en croute, Jan’s Irish soda bread and Deanna’s authentic spaghetti sauce.

Thankfully, my mother-in-law came through with her noodle kugel recipe, my aunt ponied up her mom’s recipe for poppy seed cookies and my mom valiantly reconstructed my great-aunt’s recipe for chicken soup, which I made for our first Rosh HaShannah as a married couple.

From there, I decided that it was up to me. I bought a Jewish cookbook and started to clip holiday recipes, most from the Chicago Tribune! When our daughter, Jenna, toddled home from pre-school with recipe packets for every Jewish holiday, I tried making them. I bought the Youth Group cookbook, and asked my friends for their recipes.

Then, one Erev Chanukah when Jenna was 4, she asked me when we were making sufganiyot. Not “if,” when. My mouth went dry. Jelly doughnuts? Deep fried? I tried to deflect my little girl’s request with an offer to make latkes from actual potatoes instead of a Manishewicz box. She would not budge, patiently explaining that Israelis made sufganiyot, and so should we. I looked into my child’s earnest eyes and pulled out the canola oil.

The resulting doughnuts—and I use the term loosely—were burnt on the outside, raw on the inside. Jenna declared them delicious. The next day, she announced to her preschool class that her mother was a great Jewish cook who “always” made sufganiyot for Chanukah.

I might not have inherited all the recipes, but it no longer matters. Yes, I make my great-aunt’s chicken soup and my mother-in-law’s kugel for Shabbat, and my grandmother’s chocolate date cake makes an appearance every Sukkot. But it’s Joan Nathan’s hamentaschen for Purim, and an apple cake on Rosh HaShannah from an apple orchard’s cookbook. My cousin Emmi and I created our own flourless chocolate cake for Passover, and Jenna and I have switched to making my friend Aaron’s Sephardic-style latkes for Chanukah. I make cheese blintzes for Shavuot with a recipe I found on the Food Network website. And for any holiday dinner, when in doubt, I make my friend Lisa’s mom’s brisket.

Recently, as Jenna and I were watching Throwdown with Bobby Flay, she said: “Bobby Flay should challenge you to a throwdown. He could never beat your chicken soup.” And I realized that I had arrived.

Linda Cohen is a Diet Coke fanatic who lives in suburbia with her family and two psychotic cats. Linda also is a longtime HIV/AIDS activist who heads up marketing communications for JUF. Her favorite book is The Lone Pilgrim by Laurie Colwin, and she is addicted to “Top Chef” and “Iron Chef America.” She currently is having an affair with Jon Stewart.

Jon schleps all over the world for a good story

Jon Siskel gets to travel the world scouting for interesting stories. A partner in Siskel/Jacobs Productions, a Chicago-based television and documentary production company, Siskel currently is in production on a two-hour special for The History Channel, "Voices of 9/11", and is developing a feature documentary about the annual "Louder Than a Bomb" high school team poetry slam competition in Chicago. The company also has produced Head On, a two-hour special for Discovery Channel and Forensics Under Fire, an episode of National Geographic's "Naked Science" series.

So whether you love documentaries, enjoy jumping off of tall things or share an interest in Captain Underpants, Jon Siskel is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
A stuntman. I used climb everything as a kid... my elementary school, trees, my parents house—I used to jump off all of them, except for the school.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I get to talk to people for a living and they allow me to tell their stories. I've interviewed Senators, archeologists, a Burmese drug lord and demolition derby drivers...I love my work!

3. What are you reading?
Captain Underpants...to my kids.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Hot Chocolate. In the interest of full disclosure, my friend Mindy Segal is the owner and chef...but it really is my favorite place to eat. Try it, you'll love it!!

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
Peace on Earth...I could say more but why?!

6. Would you rather have the ability of fly or the ability to be invisible?
Fly...The price of gas is crazy.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Madonna's "Hung Up.” I love everything from punk to country and the Grateful Dead to Miles Davis, but every once and awhile you need a dose of sugar sweet pop music and Madonna is the best.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
Shabbat dinner at home with my wife Sophia and our two boys, Nathan and Jonah.

Ari helps you think before you drink!

Hello Oy!sters! It’s your friendly neighborhood Jewish bartender, back again with some exciting things to tell you. To me, Chicago summers mean wonderful weather and sizzling hot spots, overflowing with some of the best cocktails to cool you down or pick you up. I have personally scouted the city and only have enough room in this issue for six of the hottest to check out this summer, including spots even native Chicagoans might not know about. Join me for this virtual tour of the best places in the downtown area to kick back and savor the flavor!

The Lux Bar  – 18 E. Bellevue Pl. 
This bar is a great introduction to the Chicago bar scene, residents and visitors alike. I knew when I stepped in through the doors and saddled up at the bar for a drink that this was a neat place to be, any time of the day, outside or in. Now, in terms of cocktails there are many ways to go here. If you want to play it relatively safe I would recommend the Key West Mango Frappe with orange vodka, mango puree and fresh ginger, or perhaps the Fresh Fruit Sling, made with lemon vodka, lemon juice, homemade simple syrup and seasonal fruit. For those willing to go outside their comfort zone, the Ramos Fizz is simply amazing—the drink is crafted with raw egg white and cream and after some vigorous shaking, the cream and egg whites blend giving the cocktail a rich, frothy finish.

This cocktail was made famous by a bartender in New Orleans, who would set up his Gin Fizz station, hire twenty men and have each cocktail shaken for 15 minutes per person and handed down the line to each man until it had been shaken continuously for hours! It’s a fun journey of flavors that everyone should try once.

De La Costa  – 465 E Illinois St. 
This Chicago hot spot is a must-see for anyone looking for a good time. While it’s known primarily for its food and atmosphere, the signature cocktails are surprisingly well-constructed and creative. The selection of cocktails begins with standard bar fare: the cosmopolitan, the Mojito, etc. As I continued down the list I came across something wild and new in the cocktail world that quite possibly may be this summer’s best drink. Called "Poptails," these delicious drinks arrive in squat martini glasses and are garnished with flavored alcoholic popsicles! Try the sensational coco-lime Poptail and enjoy the fun atmosphere all night long.

Nacional 27 – 325 W. Huron St.
This fusion restaurant, known for its eclectic atmosphere and good eats, is often overlooked for its dazzling drinks. National 27 takes cocktails to a whole new level, turning them into meals in a glass! Their drink menu is full of a wide range of white and red wines to enjoy from many parts of the world, but they also boast quite a selection of rums and tequilas to sample alone or mixed. Adam Seger, head bar chef and sommelier, creates many of his own syrups and mixes in-house, including Bloody Marys, Sangria, Tres Leches and Horchata. He even makes his own maraschino cherries. He has won many accolades for his pioneering skills behind the bar, and it shows in his signature drinks. My recommendation, other than wine, would be the Passion Fruit Screwdriver, topped with a beautiful pineapple-vanilla foam garnish.

Cru – 25 E. Delaware St.
While Cru is my main competition for clientele, I cannot deny its history and reputation as one of the premier wine bars in the Gold Coast area, on the corner of Wabash and Delaware. Not only is their wine selection exquisite, but they are also down the street from one of Chicago’s oldest Jewish congregations, Chicago Sinai Congregation. My cousin Evan Moffic is the Assistant rabbi at the reform synagogue, so join the congregation if you need a place to daven in the city at the last minute!

But back to Cru. It’s is the perfect place to relax outside, enjoy a glass of wine, and observe the bustling Michigan Avenue crowds. My recommendations are as follows: for sparking, try the Portuguese Brut Rose, pink in color but full of flavor. For a white wine, either the Chenin Blanc from South Africa, or the more expensive (but well worth it) Chapoutier from the rich Rhone Valley in France. The red to sample here is the sinsky Merlot from Napa. Cru also offers sparkling cider and sake and a very tasty Saketini made with Ketel One and pickled ginger.

Inter-Continental Hotel – 505 N. Michigan Ave.
When trying to decide which beverage depots to share, I had to put at least one hotel bar on the list, and this is one experience you can’t afford to pass up. Alex Rose, a classmate of mine at the Academy and the Assistant Bar Manager at The Bar located in the hotel, can’t stop talking about his establishment’s trip back in time to Chicago’s infamous 1920’s Prohibition Era, décor and all! This might surprise you, but rather than choose a Prohibition drink or one of their many fabulous martinis, I am recommending their semi-secret and ultra-fabulous Cosmopolitan. Guaranteed to be lip-smacking good! Make this one of your stops as you bar hop through the city and you won’t be disappointed.

Cityscape Bar –  Holiday Inn Chicago Mart Plaza • 350 West Mart Center Drive
Finally! This is my personal hidden gem that few Chicagoans know about, and the word is spreading fast! You know how great chefs always say that presentation matters, that we “eat with our eyes first?” Well, this bar nestled atop the Holiday Inn and boasting one of the most gorgeous nighttime skyline views the city has to offer, fits the bill. It offers an amazing cocktail list. If you’re a fan of tea, you’ll love their Pomegranate Rose martini with a rare European rose nectar and a candied lime slice. For spice lovers, the Cajun Spice martini consisting of pepper vodka and pepper-stuffed olives is the drink for you. However, my personal favorite takes me back to when I was a kid in Wisconsin sampling some of the best root beer from the original A&W store. The Root Beer Float Martini is made with Absolute Vodka, root beer schnapps, Godiva Chocolate Liqueur and a Root Beer candy.

Well, I hope you all found this guide to be helpful and are eager to explore. I encourage all of you to not fear the mixed drink–GUYS: DO NOT BE AFRAID OF MIXED DRINKS!!! Break the shackles of alcoholic conformity, take a leap of faith and try something different. Start with what you know you like and work from there.

I know there are plenty of places that I did not cover that would make this list easily, so please feel free to share your favorite drinks and places to toast. As always, I am here to answer any of your questions or give my opinions on favorite cocktail recipes or cool drinking establishments.

L’Chaim!

Liz, contemplating corn and listening to Low.

I draw inspiration from lost roots, genealogy, old urban and farm architecture, residential history, sociological photography, the Midwest at night, resistance fighters, people that get me in the gut, ghosts, and music that settles somewhere between my sternum and abdomen.

These samples of my work are collagraphs—which is my favorite printmaking technique involving mounting materials onto a plate (made of cardboard, metal, etc…) and then (usually) pulling it on a press.

Part Elie Wiesel and part Low’s “Long Division” album. My Mom thinks it looks like a house on fire.

These are a couple of giraffes. You know, just the coat hanger antler things on the tops of their heads. Nothing deep. It's funny because I get the most emotional responses to this one—people think it's about abandonment, or a relationship splitting up.

I was listening to “Extended Play Two” by Broadcast a lot. It was an eyelash-freezing winter, I was hulled up in the house and had the CD on repeat.

This one was inspired by a friend.



I used to love pulling the silk off of the ears of corn with my Mom on the back porch in the summer. I have a deep, deep place in my heart for Midwestern Moms.

Chunk of downtown.

Elie Wiesel walking the streets of the Loop. I would totally buy him a hot dog. Kosher, of course.

Liz Weinstein was bred in Oak Park and buttered in Chicago. She's currently living as a Hausfrau in Germany but still refuses to iron the sheets. Her obsessions include record collecting, WWII memoirs, snapshots and printmaking. She's also a graphic designer.

Matt was never afraid to say "I love you." 

Second to “It’s not your baby,” it’s the next biggest English phrase that should stir emotion in the recipient. And sure, we’ve all used it and heard it. Some may have used it as a “get out of jail free pass” from the fight over you leering at the girl who just walked by. And we’ve all probably used it at the end of our phone conversations with mommy or daddy even without really thinking about it, more of an involuntary statement that always ends the conversation. Even after all of the nagging and guilt followed by anxiety and rage mommy instills in us, we still say it. And whatever form it takes, we’ve all been too apathetic with our use of the phrase.

We’re at our worst when it comes to finals time, where our focus shifts and priorities in life jumble together with the immediate fear of failure. We hear it in the distant background from our boyfriend/girlfriend while we’re hyper-focused on the impending doom from our Civ Pro exam. We’re just too damn busy to actually hear and pay notice to those words from our loved ones. I’m not saying a good study ethic, hard work and a strong focus in law is bad. But like heroin, hookers and healthy eating, hyper-focus requires moderation and a heavy consideration of the bigger picture. And saying, hearing and meaning the phrase “I love you” is much more important in the bigger picture.

Here’s one example why.

Louie was set to be a major league baseball pitcher. His father, a giant in stature with a deep voice and kind heart, always talked about how Louie’s screwball would take the league. Louie had an advantage over the others from the day he was born. He broke his collarbone during birth, turning his hands facing slightly away from his body instead of facing towards, like most others. During his childhood, Louie’s parents worked with him to solve any situations caused by his birth situation. He was also born with a slightly enlarged heart and other minor difficulties. But regardless of the complications, Louie led a mostly normal to above normal lifestyle as a kid. Obviously, he played baseball, was a good student, had hundreds of friends, was always running around. His complications became solvable situations, and some to his advantage. Like I said, the fact that his hands were turned out gave him an advantage on the ball-field, since his hands were crafted for the elusive pitch that was set to send him to the big leagues.

On an average morning, on an average day, Louie’s mother went to wake him up, as she’d done for years. Unfortunately, Louie didn’t wake up to his mother’s call, nor his mother’s grasps, nor his mother’s cries. The doctors said that his enlarged heart may have pinched on an artery during his sleep, causing him to pass away sometime during the night. His heart may have been just too big for this world to hold. Louie’s professional baseball career ended before it actually started. He was 13. 

There’s not a day that goes by where we say “I love you” to our parents and girlfriends without really thinking about what it means and how the phrase matters. We take love for granted and hardly take the time to explain to another person that we appreciate them for how they’ve affected our lives. We just went through our finals, most of us putting our boyfriends/girlfriends through hell as we tried to fight for our sanity while cramming in as much of the “bundles of sticks” of Property Law as we could. They may have said they love us, they may have tried to kiss us, and we probably returned with evil looks or smelly bodies (I hardly shower during finals week). But finals time, like the holidays, like EVERY day, should be a time where we try our hardest not to take for granted the love that we receive. I’m just as guilty, if not more, than the rest of us.

So, being that I have a public forum:

I love you Mom and Dad, for every waking hour you sat with me as I went from hospital bed to surgery, back to hospital bed and back to surgery. For every tear you may have held back in front of me, your little boy, so I would reflect your strength through some of the hardest times. And even for the times where we disagreed, you allowed me to do that and know that I am free to do so. I love you, brother, for your bull-headish unwavering protection over me. For giving me the comfort in knowing that whatever I’d need, you’d get it for me if I asked. Even for the times that you kicked my ass when I was younger, for you taught me both to stand up for myself and to duck faster than the person throwing the punch.

I love you, friends and family, for being my friends and thus my family. There are never enough words to prove that I love and appreciate you, other than me saying that I love you and appreciate you! True friends emote true feelings and create true memories, and once you realize the value of true memories and true feelings, you’ll understand the need to thank your friends.

Now it’s your turn. Call mommy and say thank you. Tell her you love her. Call dad and tell him you appreciate him and his sacrifices. Hug your cat. Kiss your friends (leave out the tongue). Do what you need to do to show them they are appreciated and loved. No one ever knows the time when we’ll leave this place, and none of us have the opportunity to change death. What we can do, is change the LIFE of others by the words and the emotions we give to them.

Do that. Give your love, respect, admiration, and appreciation to those only you know deserve it.  And though I didn’t know you all that well… I love you, Louie.

This piece originally appeared Chicago Kent Law School’s publication, The Commentator in March, 2007.

Oy!Chicago would like to thank Matt's mom, Roberta, for sharing this story with us and our Oy! readers. Read more about Matt in A Tribute to Matt.

Alan and Miriam, giving biblical verses a new tune.

Miriam Brosseau and Alan Jay Sufrin were making music together long before they started the “Biblegum pop” duo Stereo Sinai, born in celebration of another birth—their rabbi’s son, Gideon. Alan and Miriam teamed up to write a lullaby, taking original Hebrew verses from the book of Judges and mixing them with a synthesized pop arrangement. The single, "Gideon's Song” gave life to the band.

So whether you like the Good Book, have an affinity for Intelligentsia or make a killer soup, Miriam and Alan are Jews you should know!

1.  What did you want to be when you grew up?
Miriam: I went through a couple of the usual phases--architect, marine biologist, Olympic roller-skater. But, ultimately, it was either rabbi or rock star that won out.
Alan: I wanted to be a rabbi first, then a folksinger. Miriam and I are a lot alike.

2.  What do you love about what you do today?
Miriam: I love the whole creative process of songwriting. It’s really magical to see a song through from a few scribbles on a napkin to that first performance. And now, working with biblical texts adds a whole new dimension. It’s exciting.
Alan: Not everyone gets to combine their passions like we do. For me, there’s nothing better than mixing my love of creating pop music with my love of Judaism and environmentalism. And as it turns out, I’m really enjoying the business aspect of things, which I didn’t expect at first. It’s so important in indie pop music to communicate and collaborate as much as possible.

3.  What are you reading?
Miriam: “The Omnivore’s Dilemma,” by Michael Pollan. Easily one of the most interesting books I’ve read in a long time. It really makes you think about the way you approach food.
Alan: Isaac Bashevis Singer, “The Collected Stories.” I’m such a Jew nerd.

4.  What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
Miriam: Nothing beats Intelligentsia coffee—best in the city by far.
Alan:  That’s easy. Miriam makes some killer soups right at home. …I’m not a shut-in, really.

5.  If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
Miriam: I’d invent a consequence machine. Every government would be required to have one. They would have to enter a description of what they were about to do, and the machine would list the real-life consequences of that action.  
Alan: Probably some sort of telepathy thing. Finding out how other people think has always been fascinating to me.

6.  Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Miriam: Definitely fly. That’d be a pretty cool stage effect.
Alan: I’d rather be able to fly because, well let’s face it, as a musician, invisibility is exactly the thing I’m trying to avoid.

7.  If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Miriam: “King of Wishful Thinking” by Go West. It’s the first song on the “Pretty Woman” soundtrack and it was the song I tried out with for American Idol. (Shhh…)
Alan: That’s a hard one, because I think you would probably consider almost all the songs on my iPod to be guilty pleasures. I’m an unabashed bubblegum pop fan. But, “Genie in a Bottle.”

8.  What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
Miriam: There’s a cool local organization called Kfar that puts on these great art-y, culture-y, Jewish-y events. It’s fun to see other Jewish artists at work and it’s always a totally chill, open environment.
Alan: I’m a part of PACT (Public Action for Change Today). It’s a great social action group that works with Chicago alder-people and state representatives for various causes, such as raising environmental awareness and combating homelessness in Chicago communities. There are a number of caucuses made up of community organizers from different groups of Chicagoans, and I’m one of the Jews in the Jewish Caucus. Oh, and I love singing pop songs from the Torah, of course!  Was that too corny?

Matt, accomplishing.

In true Jewish geography fashion, my mom’s best friend Linda introduced me to her other best friend Roberta, who then introduced me to her son, Matt. And though Matt and I never had the chance meet in person, his story—as told through his mother and his own writing—will remain close to my heart forever.

Matthew Louis Lash, a 2007 graduate of Chicago-Kent College of Law, died April 30, 2008 at age 27 after a seven and a half year battle with Ewing’s sarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. His life, tragically cut short, was everything but a tragedy. Refusing to let his battle with cancer beat down his spirit, he set out to accomplish in just 27 years what most people can only hope to achieve in 70. In the short time Matt spent here in Chicago, he left a lasting mark on the people he met through law school and his Birthright Israel trip, serving as an inspiration to every single person who was fortunate enough to cross his path.

I spoke with his mom Roberta over the phone a little less than two months after Matt passed away. I had expected to hear sadness and grief in her voice; instead I heard only pride and joy. She laughed as she told me all the incredible feats Matt accomplished, all while undergoing chemo and after having his leg amputated, and how he had kept his sense of humor through it all. I think if we had the time, our conversation could have continued well into the night.

Matt was first diagnosed in December of 2000. He had injured his heel, and after it didn’t get better and a cyst formed, his doctors decided he needed surgery. After successfully completing the surgery, they discovered the cancer—a rare, incurable form of bone cancer of which there are only 300 cases per year.  Roberta recalled the exact date and time, Dec. 28 at 2 p.m. “From that point on Matt was on a new course,” she said.

After three months of chemo, Matt opted to have his leg amputated from the knee down, in an effort to prevent the cancer from spreading.

In an essay published along with his obituary in the Detroit Jewish News, his hometown paper, Matt wrote the following, titled What is it Like to Have Your Leg Amputated: 

“It sucks,” he began, but then continued:

“It hurts, but your leg heals…I traveled to Europe for two weeks with buddies. I took my leg off in the middle of a huge parade in Germany and waved it around hundreds of onlookers. I graduated (college at Michigan State University) in five years, three of them involving surgeries and chemo. I walked across the stage. I lived in Spain for a study-abroad program in law school. I used an old pizza box as padding for my leg because I danced literally all night in San Sebastian…I traveled to Israel. I met the most beautiful women in the world there and got shot down by all of them! I also climbed a mountain overlooking Jordan and Syria. I rode a camel. I graduated law school...I stood as best man to watch my brother marry his beautiful bride. I got to hold my new baby niece, Ella, and kiss her chubby face when she was born. So yes, it’s also pretty freaking cool.”

Six months after the surgery Matt should have been okay, but the cancer had spread to his lungs and he was told he had five years tops left to live—he made it seven and a half.

“No one’s going to tell Matt anything,” Roberta said. “They’re not going to tell him he can’t climb a mountain, no one’s going to tell him he can’t graduate law school.”

On his trip to Israel through the Birthright Israel program in Chicago, Matt’s group was set to climb Mount Schlomo, when their tour guide asked him if he would rather wait at the bottom. “’No way,’ he told him, and then beat everyone to the top,” Roberta said, and then he held his leg high in the air. “He really impacted everybody,” she said, noting that they continue to tell his story at every Birthright Israel orientation session.

Matt defying gravity on Mt. Shlomo in Israel

In addition to his travels and studies, Matt also completed an internship for Major League Baseball with Bud Selig in New York and worked for the city district attorney’s office in Los Angeles during this time.

Then, in August of last year, he had another surgery and never fully recovered. When doctors told him he had two weeks to live, Roberta and her husband, Cliff, were fortunate to be able to bring him home.

True to form, he lived for two weeks and one day.

And though he is gone, Matt’s legacy will live on. A group of Matt’s law school friends initiated the Matthew Louis Lash Scholarship Fund at Chicago-Kent College of Law in his memory, which Roberta said she hopes will be awarded to a student facing some kind of health challenge.

His Birthright Israel group has also established a memorial fund in his honor to help support a school they visited together in Kiryat Gat. Each year, Matt participated in the American Cancer Society’s Relay For Life, and his team, Team Chaverim (friends), plans to continue the tradition.

And his voice, sense of humor and witty and optimistic outlook is forever documented through his writing. During law school, Matt wrote essays for Chicago-Kent’s student newspaper,  The Commentator . He had also started writing a book, titled “Cancer Boy,” which incorporated some of those essays, and others, as well as chapters including “Doing It For The Children (masturbating in a cup),” “I Met Jesus When They Took Off My Leg (the amputation)” and “Hi, I Have Cancer and One Leg, Want To Date Me? (about dating and the leg),” using his experiences as both entertainment and a guide for other young adults going through similar experiences.

“This book is not an autobiography,” he writes in the book’s Prologue, titled “Epilogue.” “A great autobiography has a great beginning, a great middle and a great end. My great end has yet to be written.”

And the great end to his book is also ‘yet to be written,’ but Roberta said she is considering having the book finished and published.

“Matt felt moved to write about these things,” she said. “He was on a different level with how he looked at things.”

In honor of Matt, a true Jew You Should Know who lived meaningfully and Jewishly, Oy!Chicago is publishing one of his essays from The Commentator as this week’s Living Jewishly column. Hopefully his words in “I Love You...Your Turn” will touch you as they have touched me and so many others who were fortunate enough to have read them.

U.S. Army Armor Company Commander Johnie Bath with his family, his wife, Jamie Adelman, and their twins, Netanya and Nathaniel.

Saying the Shema in Baghdad

Prayer helped U.S. Army Armor Company Commander Johnie Bath through tough times in the Iraqi war zone.

Though limited food options made it hard for him to keep kosher and he wasn’t able to practice the Hebrew that he had been learning back home, he often chanted prayers, particularly the Shema, a Jewish prayer pledging allegiance to God. “My rabbi told me to say the Shema twice a day,” he recalls. “I said it easily twice a day, probably more. Whenever things got a little hairy, it was reassuring to say the Shema and I felt that I was covered just in case.”

Today, Bath feels like his prayers have paid off. His wife, Jamie Adelman, and their 1-year-old twins welcomed Bath home this spring after he completed his one-year deployment in Iraq. A career Army man, Bath, who is currently based with his family in Fort Riley, Kan., joined the military 16 years ago, after graduating from high school. “I was a young, patriotic kid, wanting to find excitement,” he says. “I jumped at the opportunity to go overseas and jump out of airplanes.”

He and Adelman, who married two years ago, settled in Lincolnwood while Bath served in the Illinois National Guard. When he requested active duty status, his first assignment took him to Baghdad, where he helped prepare the Iraqi army for combat.

Before his deployment, however, Bath had accomplished two life-changing events. First, he stood by his wife’s side for the birth of their two children, daughter, Netanya, and son, Nathaniel, who underwent heart surgery as an infant, but is now healthy.

Then, shortly after their birth, in February of 2007, Bath converted to Judaism at Congregation B’nai Tikvah, a Conservative synagogue in Deerfield. Growing up in a small Ohio town, Bath had felt little to no religious attachment to his Christian origins. Longing for a religious identity, he had explored Judaism even before meeting his wife, but dating her solidified his desire to become a Jew by choice.

Today, especially in his dangerous line of work, he finds comfort in his Jewish identity.

Rabbi Maj. Ira S. Ehrenpreis (below) having fun with the guys in his unit after a 100 yd low crawl through a mud ditch. Ehrenpreis would frequently send Jewish care packages to the men in his unit.

Proud to serve

Like Bath, other Chicago-area Jewish troops and chaplains are part of the small Jewish minority of the U.S. Armed Forces who have been serving this country for the past seven years in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The Chicago Jewish community mourned the loss of one local soldier last winter. Cpl. Albert Bitton, a 20-year-old Jewish medic serving his seventh month in Iraq. Bitton was killed in February—along with two other soldiers—in Baghdad when an IED (improvised explosive device) struck their Humvee. He had joined the Army in 2005 after graduating from Ida Crown Jewish Academy in Chicago, with aspirations of receiving the training and financial help to become a surgeon some day. In a letter to his friends, Bitton assured them that he would remain devoted to Judaism while serving his country, pledging to pray each day: “I will always remain a Jew, every step of the way.”

There’s debate over how many Jews serve overseas. While the U.S. Military says that 0.3 percent of personnel are Jewish, the Jewish Community Center Association’s (JCCA) Jewish Welfare Board (JWB) Jewish Chaplains Council maintains that the number is higher—1 percent, which translates to some 8,000 troops, additionally, 29 Jewish chaplains currently are dispersed around the world.

“It’s hard to get an exact count,” says Rabbi Harold L. Robinson, a retired U.S. Navy rear admiral and director of the JWB Jewish Chaplains Council. “The military no longer keeps those kinds of statistics in any reliable way. Jews tend to not necessarily declare their religious identity on official forms, especially if they’re going to the Middle East.”

The U.S. Department of Defense (DOD) makes provisions for personnel, including Jews, to observe their faith without interfering with military operations. In the Army, soldiers are permitted to wear yarmulkes (skullcaps) as long as they do not conflict with the wearing of protective headgear, according to Lt. Col. Anne Edgecomb, of the Department of the Army Public Affairs. Beards often worn by religious Jews, however, are unauthorized because they may interfere with gear, said Edgecomb.

In past wars, Jewish troops hid their Jewish identity more often than they do today because anti-Semitism is less of an obstacle in the military than in decades past, according to Rabbi Maj. Ira S. Ehrenpreis, a Jewish chaplain returning from Iraq this summer. Even during the first Gulf War, Jewish soldiers were encouraged to hide their religious identity and write “Protestant B” on their dog tags, an internal code indicating to military chaplains that they were Jewish, according to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. Yet today, the military does nothing to hide the religious identity of any personnel, according to the DOD, and Jews usually reveal their Jewish identity on their dog tags.

Larger military overseas posts offer Shabbat and High Holiday services as well as kosher and vegetarian meal rations. In addition, the Jewish Soldier Foundation and New Jersey-based LaBriute (to your health) Meals have teamed up to provide thousands of kosher meals to Jewish troops overseas.

Recruits celebrate shake their groggers (noisemakers) at a Shabbat service on the holiday of Purim.

Making deals with the Almighty

Last Passover, Ehrenpreis hosted a seder for U.S. army troops in an unlikely place—one of Saddam Hussein’s former palaces in Baghdad.

As the soldiers concluded the seder with a Passover favorite tune, “Echad Mi Yodea,” (Who knows one?), they heard a mortar attack outside the walls of the palace. They turned their faces downward and didn’t move until it was all clear. “We finished with this wonderful feeling, [knowing the significance] of holding the seder in Saddam’s palace,” says Ehrenpreis, one of only three Jewish chaplains currently stationed in Iraq.

Ehrenpreis is a long way from his former life as a special education and Talmud teacher in Far Rockaway, N.Y. An observant Jewish rabbi who later relocated to West Rogers Park with his wife and five children, he joined the chaplaincy in homage to both his religion and his ancestors.

“I thought it was an opportunity for a Kiddush Hashem, (an action that brings honor, respect, and glory to God),” he says. “I wanted to travel the world and introduce myself to thousands of people who have never even spoken to a Jewish person, let alone a rabbi,” he explained. “It’s important to have a Jewish presence in the military because this is the country that my grandparents were able to come to after World War I, escaping the Cossacks, and seeking refuge. My rebbe (rabbi) said that every day we should raise the American flag because we have the privilege of freedom and religion.”

So 13 years ago, Ehrenpreis shaved his beard and the next day entered a New Jersey training center for chaplains with 245 Southern Baptists and other Protestants, five priests, and one Jew—himself. He is the first and only rabbi in the Illinois National Guard, in which he served for three years, and has spent a decade on active duty, twice in Kuwait and once in Iraq.

In the Persian Gulf, the rabbi wears two hats. He and the few other Jewish chaplains in Iraq coordinate religious coverage such as Shabbat services, Jewish holidays, and kosher food. In his second hat, he acts as a battalion chaplain for 500 soldiers, most of them from Louisiana, and none of them Jewish. His soldiers are 40 percent Catholic, 45 percent Protestant, and 15 percent unaffiliated. He acts as a confidant and a spiritual guide for his troops, leading them in prayer at trying times.

“Let’s say they’re going on a dangerous convoy,” he said. “If someone feels particularly anxious and would like a particular prayer, I may give him a hug and then we say that prayer together.”

Ehrenpreis himself was accustomed to praying often in Chicago, but he stepped it up a notch when he arrived in Baghdad. “When I am home in West Rogers Park, I daven (pray) morning, afternoon, and evening,” he says. “Yet, I realized that I was probably doing more davening over here in Baghdad, talking more to the Almighty, making deals: ‘If I come back alive, I promise I will learn one full page of Gemara (Torah commentary).’”

Army Captain Jason Blonstein praying at the Jewish Chapel at West Point.

‘Sacred time’: Fridays from 7-9 p.m.

Basic training at the Great Lakes Naval Recruit Training Command (RTC) is a world that’s regimented and time-controlled. No iPods, no cell phones, no hairstyle choices. Yet, one aspect of life not dictated for soldiers is the freedom to pray and express their religious identity.

Shabbat services—strictly from 7-9 p.m.—is when the Jewish Community Centers of Chicago (JCC) reaches out to Jewish recruits at RTC, the third-largest Navy base in the country, located in Great Lakes, north of Chicago. The volunteer chaplaincy program, a model program for the country started by JCC leaders last year, coordinates rabbis and cantors to lead Shabbat services and sometimes holiday services at the training center.

“Coming to Shabbat services is probably the only opportunity the recruits have in a given week to call each other by their first names, to talk with one another, to share their feelings,” says Rabbi Nina Mizrahi, director of JCC’s Pritzker Center for Jewish Education and coordinator of the chaplaincy program, who also sometimes leads services. “They come at 7 p.m., but at 9’oclock, they’re out of there. They don’t have watches. It’s an incredibly sacred time for them.”

Last year, Rabbi Harold L. Robinson—a retired U.S. Navy rear admiral, and director of the JCC Association’s Jewish Welfare Board (JWB) Jewish Chaplains Council—and representatives of the Navy Chaplain Corps alerted JCC to the need to fill more chaplaincy positions at the RTC. The U.S. Navy has only eight chaplains, but requires 12. And the need for Jewish chaplains is even greater. There hasn’t been a full-time rabbi stationed at Great Lakes since its last military rabbi left the base two years ago. To fill the void, JCC, along with the Chicago Board of Rabbis, worked with the RTC to scout rabbis and some cantors to lead services at the base.

Each week, some 15-35 recruits, primarily Jewish and from a wide range of socioeconomic and Jewish backgrounds, attend Friday night services. “As a Jew [in the Navy], sometimes it’s easy to feel like you’re the only one,” says Lt. Cdr. Joshua Taylor, a former RTC recruit. “The chaplaincy program allows us the opportunity to connect with other Jews and to get a sense of community that might otherwise be lacking.”

While rabbinical styles vary, each Shabbat service includes elements of a prayer service, learning, and an oneg (Shabbat party), and some offer music or other forms of entertainment. On Shabbat, Mizrahi asks those recruits who comfortable enough to introduce themselves and discuss a given topic such as their families back home or a moment in the past week when they appreciated nature.

“You have to create a sense of community in the context of the service,” says Mizrahi. “So they’ll straggle in and sit, and some know each other, but by the end of that time together, we need to have gotten to a place that’s communal—and we do—and that’s what’s extraordinary.”

A West Point bar mitzvah

Jason Blonstein celebrated his bar mitzvah, but not at the age of 13. Rather, his special day arrived years later and far from home—as a 21-year-old recruit at West Point, the New York military academy, where approximately 1.5 percent of the 4,000 students are Jewish. Though he was raised as a Jew in his hometown of Palatine, Blonstein—now an Army captain—engaged in few Jewish rituals growing up. Yet, once he arrived at West Point, Judaism piqued his interest.

“We would go to synagogue a lot of times on Friday nights because our freshman year we couldn’t leave [campus],” he says. “It was a way to socialize and get some food.” He even joined, and later led, the Jewish choir, in part to “to meet girls.”

Yet, there was more involved than grub and girls. “I just don’t think I had a positive Jewish influence when I was younger, but I had those influences around me at West Point,” he says. “I took advantage of the opportunity to learn more about my religion and culture.”

Then, during his junior year at the Academy, Blonstein chose to have a bar mitzvah. He would wake up early in the morning to study Torah with the rabbi on campus. Blonstein’s mother and father—a former Marine—and other family and friends flew to West Point for his ceremony.

After graduating from West Point, he trained on tanks and was commissioned as second lieutenant and then as an armor officer in Fort Knox, Ky. From 2001-2006, he served in Bavaria, Kosovo, and later was deployed to Balad, Iraq, for one year.

Though Blonstein found comfort in his Jewish identity while stationed in Iraq, religion wasn’t the first thing on his mind when lives were on the line. “It becomes more about the guy next to you,” he ssys. “My role as an officer was to try to accomplish the mission and bring back all my soldiers.”

Two years ago, Blonstein left Iraq and moved home to Chicago, where he currently works for an energy company, and plans to volunteer in the Jewish community. He encourages more young Jews to join the military as an alternative to mainstream college education. For Blonstein, serving was a way to say thank you. “Going into the military,” he says, “was a way I could give back to a country that I felt had already given me so much.”

Mike, a self-proclaimed walking Jew joke

Like many recent college graduates, Mike Tureff is testing the job market waters with a stint in public relations. But Mike has bigger dreams—he is a budding Chicago comedian. A self-described “open-mike rat,” Mike can be found most nights and weekends performing at venues including The Pressure Café, The Globe, and Cigars and Stripes.

Mike originally turned to comedy in high school with an ulterior motive—to get girls. “I don’t think it’s so much that I realized I was funny as that I realized I wasn’t good looking enough to get girls without being funny,” he says. “If the day ever comes when girls are no longer impressed by my awful, coffee–house jokes, it will be the day I will have to start getting some sun and doing push-ups.”

But it wasn’t until college at Ohio State that he realized he had a real talent for making people laugh. “I started off doing comedy troupe shows in high school and college, but it never really suited my strengths. I’m a terrible actor, I can never remember any lines, and I have a radio face, a radio body and radio clothes. So I started doing stand-up in Columbus and once I got my first paying gig it was a huge moment in my life. Hollywood? Yeah it’s me, Mike, I’ve finally made it...and I’ll take my 20 bucks now.”

His stand up usually centers around what he calls the “banality of daily life.” Part of our interview sounded a bit like one of his hilarious routines…

“I grew up in a little town called Northbrook, Illinois, a North Shore community known for its burgeoning cultural scene and ethnic diversity. And of course by that I mean the exact opposite. I’m pretty sure Inuit’s living in the Arctic Circle met more black guy’s growing up than I did--which was why going to Ohio State was such a wonderful experience for me. I remember walking on to campus on the first day and feeling like I was on the floor of the United Nations."

Influenced by a wide array of comedians—including Zach Galifianakis, Mitch Hedberg, Dave Attell, Brian Regan, and Dave Chappell—his favorite comedian is Louis CK, who is best known for his observational comedy. “He’s a genius, plus he taught me that nobody cares about some kid who can think of funny things to say. People really start laughing—that deep, heart-felt laugh—when you show them how awful your life is.”

Some famous members of the tribe are also on his top ten list. “I’m so jealous of how David Cross and Jon Stewart are able to make politics funny,” Tureff says. “I have a few political jokes but I could never base a whole routine off of how myopic, xenophobic and intolerant republicans are.”

Mike’s self deprecating humor takes full advantage of his status as one of the chosen people. “I’m a walking Jew joke. My existence on earth is a Jew joke. If you searched Wikipedia for ‘What does Dick Cheney laugh about at dinner parties’ there’s a picture of me standing in line at 7-Eleven. I’m convinced that minorities have such an unbelievable leg up in terms of comedy. There’s just an oppressed, conspiratorial mindset that I think any minority has on a given day.”

Unexpected guests at a performance can make or break Mike’s routine. “Oh easily my worst moments are when groups of my friends show up without telling me. It always tilts me because I feel like I have to tell my A material without trying anything unpopular. Not to mention that they heckle me with what can only be described as a hate-crime like ferocity.”

Although Mike loves doing stand up and plans to decide in the near future whether or not he will pursue it full-time, he is still learning to cope with his new found fame. “I despise being told that I ‘had a great show,’” he says. “I’m paranoid about being patronized. Yes, I realize that I’m neurotic, but at least this proves I’m actually Jewish.”

Check out Mike’s next performance at The Globe, in Lakeview on July 7th, just don’t tell him how hilarious he is.

The cousins pose with Grandma at her birthday dinner.

Last Memorial Day weekend, 19 of my Jewish relatives gathered in Florida to celebrate two major life cycle events: my grandma’s 80th birthday and my grandparents’ 61st wedding anniversary. We went to Friday night services. We ate Chinese food. We played the longest, most competitive game of Uno ever (I won, of course). We ate cake. Those of us from the Midwest did our best to catch up with the perfect tans of our Floridian cousins. We sat in the hot tub.

And I experienced a mess of emotions: happiness, sadness, guilt, calmness, anxiety… the list could go on.

Surprising my grandma by showing up to her synagogue for Friday night services was great fun, but something felt out of place. The fancy birthday dinner we had for my grandma and her closest friends was a wonderful celebration, but we couldn’t help but notice my grandpa’s absence. For the first time, he wasn’t well enough to leave the nursing home to attend the celebrations.

The only time we were all together was when we crowded into his small room at the nursing home with a happy anniversary cake, but it didn’t feel so much like a party. On the surface, the weekend was about celebrating major events but, for me, it was also about facing the reality of watching the people we love grow older.

I tend to brush off thoughts of death and loss because they make me feel uncomfortable, but that hour in my grandpa’s room brought the subjects to the forefront of my mind in a way I hadn’t prepared for. I thought maybe it was time to finally sit down and think about them.

(blank stare)

I realized then that I don’t know what I think about death and dying, or even how to think about those topics in a constructive way. It is so much easier to simply change the subject—in a conversation with others or just in your head. On the last night of the weekend, while hanging out in the hot tub, my cousins and I quickly transitioned from talking about how depressing our nursing home visit was to the many happy memories we have of our grandparents.

Celebrating our grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary eleven years ago.

Some of us remembered visiting their home in Racine—where we tried not to get caught in the forbidden living room, ran past the super scary clown painting, watched The Wizard of Oz way too many times and ate the extra pumpkin pie that Grandpa snuck us every Thanksgiving. We remembered who got what color dress from our grandparents’ trip to Hawaii (I got purple), the way that Grandpa said, “Good morning!” to everyone no matter what time of day it was and how cool it was to say that our grandpa worked at a candy shop five minutes away from Sea World.

I had (and still have) mixed emotions reminiscing about someone who is still with us—especially because my grandpa’s exuberance and playfulness shone through during our visit with him. Despite having trouble moving around and communicating clearly, he immediately told my brother to “Sit down!” when we arrived, greeted one cousin with a “Good morning!” (it was the afternoon), and even joked around, answering “too long” when asked if he knew how long he had been married.

I wish I could wrap up all these thoughts with a shiny pink bow, a little humor and some pearls of wisdom. But this is just the beginning of a long process and I have much to figure out about what I think on death and dying. While I am more open to these thoughts than I used to be, I know figuring it out won’t be a quick or linear process. I’m sure I will continue to have mixed emotions and moments when I want to change the subject.

That weekend in Florida reinforced how important family can be in that process and just how much an individual can live on through the people who love him. I know that parts of our grandpa’s personality and optimism will live on within all of us cousins and all I can say for now is: Good morning, friend.

Jennifer takes a chance on the family business

It sounds like the kind of wish you’d make if you were Aladdin and had found the Genie’s lamp: To get the chance to travel the world and buy one-of-a-kind jewels and exquisite fabrics—and get paid for it. But for third-generation jeweler Jennifer Sydel, living the dream is just part of the job. Growing up in the jewelry business and studying historic costume design at NYU, the 24-year-old honed her skills designing costumes for Broadway shows like Mamma Mia, Wicked, and The Lion King before returning to her native Chicago and opening her own jewelry design studio, JSydel Inc.

So whether you’re looking to jazz up an old family heirloom, are a closet ABBA fan, or love rye bread, Jennifer Sydel is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I always wanted to be in the design world. I knew it was either going to be something related to fashion or jewelry. I always wanted to be a fashion designer, and maybe one day I still will be, but I was able to get into the design world first. And I always knew I wanted to be my own boss and open my own business.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
What I love the most is working one-on-one with a client. I love the dialogue that comes from somebody bringing me an heirloom piece or a gem they’ve had in their hands for a long time and saying, “I’d love for you to design something for me.” Half of my designs come from the story my client tells me. Jewelry is so personal. It’s something that only you as the client, and the person who has made it for you, can understand. To recreate an experience in a new place and time is special.

3. What are you reading?
I just finished  Life of Pi , which I loved. A couple of months ago I read a biography of Coco Chanel. I really respect, and kind of idolize, her in a sense. The way she changed the way people thought of her product is interesting. I try to incorporate that mentality into my work as well.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I would have to say Brasserie Jo. Their drinks are amazing. And their salmon is to die for. And their mussels, too. I love mussels.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A little chip that you’d implant into your brain or arm that would absorb everything you ever saw in the world. The smells, the colors, the visuals—input from all the senses—would be absorbed into that chip and you could retrieve any memory.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
That’s a really tough one. Fly. I’ve always wanted to be a bird. A little sparrow. To see perspective from different levels would be incredible.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
You would probably find something by Whitney Houston. Bodyguard-era Whitney Houston.

8.What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
I really love going to Manny’s any chance I can possibly get. Having roast beef and matzah ball soup. Or pastrami on rye. My god. I love rye. And I really do enjoy going to synagogue on Friday night. I don’t go all the time, but I sometimes have to go and be alone—I don’t go with anyone else—and think.

Rating: Four Stars 

Custom House, a bright twist on the traditional steak house

For anyone who loves Chicago history, one of the most exciting periods occurred in 1871 after the Great Chicago Fire, when the  Custom House Levee District  flourished. Filled with saloons, brothels and gaming houses, and home to the genesis of the classic pay-for-votes politics, the Levee District was an oasis of sin and sensual pleasures. The higher class bordellos were as famous for the quality of their food and wine as they were for the charms of their girls, and the area we now know as Printer's Row spent a glorious thirty-five years reigning as the place to experience carnal delights of every sort.

As the epicenter of the American meat industry, Chicago's stockyards made us Sandburg's 'hog butcher to the world.' Eras like the heyday of the Levee District gave Chicago a reputation as a city of outlaws, wild characters and excitement. And events like the  Century of Progress Columbian Exposition and World's Fair  marked Chicago as a place of innovation, artistry and progress.

So it should be no surprise that Chef/Owner  Shawn McClain , winner of the  James Beard Best Chef  -Midwest Award and a chef who had nothing to prove to this city after the success of his hotspots  Spring  and  Green Zebra , has managed to meld three of Chicago's most famous attributes in  Custom House . McClain has taken the concept of a traditional steak house, and with a combination of classic technical skill and broad artistic vision, has transformed it into a place that both honors its origins and explodes preconceptions…and done it in the heart of what used to be the infamous Levee District.

The open dining room at Custom House, with its tall ceilings and wide windows, erases the idea of the dark paneled rooms one usually expects when one thinks of a steak house. A wall of stone, softened by light fabric on the chairs, and simple elegant lighting is warm and welcoming. Starters are an embarrassment of riches, and deciding between them is a Herculean task. After consulting with our server, we choose the Quail, Smoked Rainbow Trout, and the special of the evening, a Goat Leg Tart.

Some delicious Custom House starters

The quail, simply roasted and served with a caramel balsamic reduction and a cippoline onion beignet, is perfect. The skin crisp and well seasoned, the meat cooked medium, highlighting the mellow gaminess of the tiny bird, a hint of sweet savoriness from the light drizzle of sauce. And the 'onion beignet' is quite simply the best onion ring either of us has ever tasted. Frankly, I'd like a basket of them and some barbeque sauce to dip them in. (Which is something I'd never actually request, but a girl can dream.) 

The tart, a layer of pastry topped with caramelized onion, braised goat leg and baby leeks, is well executed, the meat deeply flavored, the onions sweet. We both wished the pastry was crisper to balance the softness of the toppings, but ultimately it was still a successful dish flavor-wise. But both of these were eclipsed by the Smoked Trout, a light salad with slivers of radish and celery-bacon vinaigrette, served on a cauliflower panna cotta. It is a dish neither of us would have ordered, but for the recommendation of our server, and it was by far the favorite. Served with buttery brioche toast sticks, it is the kind of dish that makes you smile with its inventiveness. The creamy cauliflower panna cotta, much more subtle than we had anticipated, is the ideal foil for the trout, smoked in-house, tender and flavorful. We have the 2006 Tavel Rose; the crisp clean wine with hints of strawberry is great with all three dishes.

For entrees, being a steak house, some beef was in order, and the Australian raised New York Strip with bone marrow maitre'd butter and roasted cippoline onions did not disappoint. The steak, aged 80 days, rivals any you will find at more traditional places, with the rich bone marrow butter putting it right over the top. We were leaning toward the halibut, but our clearly psychic server insisted on the sturgeon, and once again her advice was impeccable. The fish, served in a light morel mushroom broth, was tender and mild, a fish neither of us had tasted before and would definitely order again. Sides are designed to share, but making up your mind will be tough!  We tasted a decadent oxtail risotto, which, when paired with the sturgeon became an inspired surf and turf. Creamed spinach, which actually tasted of spinach and not just cream, was enriched with parmesan bread crumbs and tiny cubes of fried celery root. Asparagus became a meal in itself, wrapped in prosciutto and anointed with black truffle.

But the hands-down favorite, again a recommendation from our server-cum-guru, was the Pommes Anna, thinly sliced potatoes layered with ricotta and house-smoked bacon. My giddy companion referred to it as potatoes au gratin on crack. And yes, you will crave more the minute the plate is empty. And my mother would disown me if I didn't tell you to order the Bulghur Wheat, which is her favorite thing on the menu! With this feast, the 2005 D & S Proprietary Red, a gloriously chewy California wine with tones of blackcurrant and chocolate, smoothed the edges.

Desserts were a rich warm toffee date cake, a tasting of three ice creams (white coffee, balsamic caramel, and triple chocolate) and a mini lemon Bundt cake. All delicious, with the exception of the balsamic caramel ice cream, which, though we were looking forward to it, had a strange and unwelcome aftertaste.

Don't forget the dessert! 

Custom House is the sort of place you can return to again and again, the menu changes daily. And without question, let the exceedingly knowledgeable waitstaff influence your dining and drinking decisions, they will introduce you to some amazing new flavors.

Nosh of the week:  One thing about food, there are trends, some enduring (Caesar salad in some form is still on menus highbrow and casual alike), some not (when was your last fondue party?). And certain ingredients come in and out of vogue like hemlines. But sometimes you find something that on first taste you know will become a staple of your kitchen. And for me, that new ingredient is Grains of Paradise. An African spice, which is similar to a pepper, but more closely related to cardamom, is my new go-to pal in the kitchen. I'm not a huge fan of black pepper, finding it often too bitter or its heat too powerful for the style of cooking I prefer. But this glorious spice, without the overpowering heat, and with both floral and citrus tones, highlights everything it touches. Salads are heightened, meats are enhanced, and even more surprising, fruits like pineapple and strawberries are taken to a whole new place with just a light grinding.

Available at Whole Foods, or online at www.worldspice.com , it is the kind of flavor that will uplift the everyday, and inspire you to experiment. Use it wherever you would use black pepper to start, and then let your imagination lead you. And just to prove that I am as cutting edge as I think I am, Sam Adams Summer Ale proudly lists Grains of Paradise as an ingredient. I might have to have one now. And if you find the perfect recipe for it, be sure to post it on the message board for the rest of us.

Nosh food read of the week: 
The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry  by Kathleen Flinn 

Yours in good taste.
Stacey

www.staceyballis.com

The cast of The Kid from Brooklyn--The Danny Kaye Musical

Long before Adam Sandler and Sasha Baron Cohen became famous for their impersonations and manic comedic styles, there was Danny Kaye, a Jew from Brooklyn who made it big in Hollywood.

Born David Daniel Kaminsky, the son of an immigrant Ukrainian tailor, Kaye got his early experience as a comedian on the Borscht circuit of summer hotels and camps in the Catskills. After changing his name, Kaye made a name for himself when he became the first man to sing a song naming 54 Russian composers in 38 seconds in “Tchaikovsky,” from the Broadway musical “Lady in the Dark.” With the help of his wife, and composer-lyricist Sylvia Fine, Kaye went from an undisciplined improvisational comic, to a star on Broadway, in film and television and on radio. With his nimble tongue, goofy expressions and imitations, Kaye was undoubtedly an entertainer ahead of his time.

And from now through August 24, Chicago audiences can relive the life and career of Danny Kaye in, The Kid From Brooklyn—The Danny Kaye Musical. The production’s writer, director and producer, Peter Loewy, and Brian Childers, who stars in the production as Danny Kaye, have not only created a nostalgic retelling of the Kaye’s story, they have brought him back to life for the next generation.

“I have been obsessed with Danny Kaye since I was a young child growing up in New Jersey,” Loewy says. “I always wanted to put together something about his life, but I needed to find the right Danny.”

Then Loewy stumbled upon Childers who was selected by a director in Washington D.C. to play Kaye in another production, Danny and Sylvia.

“I did not seek out this role,” Childers says. “I like to say it sought me out.”

Childers prepared for the role using anything and everything he could get his hands on, watching Kaye’s movies, checking out You Tube clips and speaking with people who knew Kaye. Though capturing Kaye’s personality and gestures was a “mammoth task,” he said he loves and embraces the role.

“I don’t like to call it an impersonation,” Childers says. “I’m trying to capture his very essence, to bring Danny to life.”

Deciding just how to bring Danny Kaye back to life on stage was another mammoth task, considering his expansive and incredible repertoire.

“How do you put 74 years into a two and a half hour production?” Loewy says. “We focused on classic songs and classic sketches, and at the same time developed a story around the darker side of Danny Kaye and showed how his wife, Sylvia Fine, drove him in the right direction.”

In addition to highlighting Kaye’s career, the show also sheds light on his personal life, particularly his manic behavior and depression, and makes subtle reference to his longtime affair with fellow actress Eve Arden, and even alludes to a romantic relationship with Lawrence Olivier.

Later in life, Loewy said, Kaye reconnected with his Jewish roots and also became very active with UNICEF. “In Hollywood, it became a very assimilated lifestyle for him,” he says. But After the Six Day War, he became a staunch supporter of Israel, turning down a performance with Olivier in London to stay in Israel after the war. He also won a Peabody award for his portrayal of a Holocaust survivor in the TV movie “Skokie,”

“I think that was the pinnacle for him of his career and, in the end, he really found his Jewishness,” Loewy said.

Kaye’s story is connecting with Jewish audiences all over the country, and this is why Loewy chose to bring the production to Chicago.

“I thought with the Jewish population here that it would be the perfect place to try the show again; the audience response has been better than ever,” he said. “We’ve had a lot of kids see the show here and they love it. In Chicago it’s the youngest audience we’ve seen—we’re really crossing over the (age) barrier.”

Directed by Loewy, with book by Mark Childers and Loewy and musical direction by Charlie Harrison and David Cohen, The Kid From Brooklyn stars Helen Hayes Award Winner Childers as Danny Kaye and Karin Leone as Sylvia Vine, with Christina Purcell and Adam LeBow. The show was first produced in Ft. Lauderdale and the Chicago engagement follows a sell-out run in Los Angeles. After leaving Chicago, the production will head to Palm Desert, California, and hopefully will debut in New York in the spring of 2009.

The Kid From Brooklyn is now playing at the Mercury Theater, 3745 N. Southport Avenue. Tickets are priced at $42.50 for Wednesday and Thursday performances and $48.50 for performances Friday through Sunday and are available by phone at (773) 325-1700 or online at  www.thekidfrombrooklynmusical.com .

Dana, falling in love in Caesaria, 1995.

My dear friend Aaron has finally fallen in love. He is a 39-year old Chicagoan; she’s an editor in Tel Aviv with strong sabra roots. He’s asking me for advice.

Some days I want to tell him marriages between Americans and Israelis should be outlawed. Other days I want to say, follow your heart—just don’t expect it to be easy.

Last month I broke my foot while running to catch the 7:41 train to work. My fellow commuters politely minded their own business, peering at me over the tops of their Wall Street Journals as I hopped across the train station in search of ice. Two people asked if I was okay, but didn’t wait for my answer.

Back home after a quick trip to the ER, my Israeli husband ranted on the phone to his mama, eight time zones away.  Aizeh Amerikayim karim! Loosely translated: Americans are cold and heartless. He also thinks we’re cheap.  He thinks we’re bad drivers. He thinks we, collectively as a country, need to have more sex. Most of all, he thinks the weather sucks.

Hail. Tornados. (Taxes!) Blizzards. Floods. His brain still functions in Celsius, but his inventory of American evils rolls off his tongue as though he is reciting the ten plagues at Passover.

Ketushot. Qassam rockets. Suicide bombers. Miluim . I’m quick to counter, there’s crappy weather everywhere, my dear.

I never gave much thought to these kinds of differences at age 24, when I developed a whopping crush on the security guard who worked the night shift at the absorption center in Northern Israel. I was the silent, shell-shocked WUJS volunteer trying to put my fresh MSW to good use. He was the shy guy with a gun who loved chick flicks, turtles and his mama. We barely spoke the entire three months, but that didn’t stop me from coming home to America and telling my poor mother, this is the one.

For me, long distance love meant writing my first poem in Hebrew, listening to David Broza music until my batteries died, paying scary big phone bills and taking a couple trans-Atlantic quickies. . . then waiting for the post-trip glow to fade to melancholy.

Two years later, he quit his job, sold his car, bought a one-way ticket to America (a country he had never visited), and moved in with me (a woman he had technically never gone out on a date with). Did I mention he barely spoke English?

Language barriers are real and I was the world’s least patient English tutor. For months, he called the kitchen a chicken and ordered Sesame Street bagels at our local Dunkin Donuts. Just make some flash cards, I urged.

During his first year in America, I dragged him to Chinese cooking classes, yoga and Cubs games. We drove down Highway One, cruised under Niagara Falls and posed with Mickey Mouse on both coasts. Sure you miss your family, sweetheart, but see what a beautiful country this is?

Despite our long road trips, he never learned the Brady Bunch theme song or developed a taste for peanut butter. Who needs it when there is hummus?  Pop culture aside, our childhood experiences were also vastly different. And sometimes I just don’t get it.

How can I really get what it is like sharing a tiny bedroom with your sister for the first 17 years of your life? Until the day you leave for the army, where you spend three years parachuting over borders and scuba diving under borders and doing things you still can’t (or won’t) talk about. His memories wake us both up at night.

How can I understand what it is like having a dad who survived the Holocaust, went on to fight in three Israeli wars, manufacture weapons, storing precious little extra cash under his mattress, and now, at age 72, refuses to leave his house?

My dad’s weapon of choice was a stethoscope. He settled us in a nice house in a nice suburb by a nice lake. He took us to Neil Diamond concerts and the Joffrey ballet. And when the good doctor had his mid-life crisis, he went back to school to earn an MBA.

Both dads came together at our wedding nine years ago and both were proud.

The truth is, I’m the one who broke the deal. Five years here was supposed to be followed by five years there, which was supposed to be followed by a decision. But life happened. At some point, I stopped adding papers to my aliyah file. We stopped speaking Hebrew, except during fights. We bought real furniture. He told his bitchy boss she was a bitch—and got fired. I got promoted.  We signed a mortgage. He told his asshole boss he was an asshole—and got fired. He started a business out of the garage and grew it from nothing to something.  Baby girl number one was quickly followed by baby girl two. And here we are still in Chicago.

I’m the first to admit how heartwarming it is to see my two baby girls and their devoted Abba dancing their hearts out on Shavuot on a kibbutz in the Galilee. I love how they run around barefoot, as soon as their jet lag wears off, playing with their Israeli cousins and assorted Israeli stray cats. Our five-year old pauses to tell us she wants to be a veterinarian—or a vegetarian—when she grows up. The thing is, in my mind, she can be a vet and a veg and a million other things, but IDF soldier is not high on my list.  

In the meantime, I HATE Chicago remains a daily refrain from November until May. I remind myself how much he has given up. I take comfort in reading academic research which grounds yesterday’s fights in legitimate cultural differences. I listen to wise people tell me that it is not easy for anyone. Even if you married your clone, it would still take work.

So the next time I break my foot, I’ll aim for the Tel Aviv central bus station, where the falafel vendor will rush over with ice, the young soldier will sling his Uzi over his shoulder and dig deep in his dusty backpack for gauze, and some old Yemenite Jew will crouch down next to me on arthritic knees, squeeze my hand, stroke my cheek, and invite me over for dinner next Shabbat.

In our now 12-year debate on where we will live when we grow up, my husband scores the point for “more compassionate commuters," but I win for following my heart.

Written by Dana, with blessings from her husband (assuming he understood what he was agreeing to, which is questionable).

Let Sara Fiedelholtz be your guide to living in Chicago 

For the past 19 years, Sara Fiedelholtz has been involved in various creative endeavors including magazine publishing, brand development and strategic planning. In 2004, Fiedelholtz launched the creative strategy firm thinkbox strategies, then in August 2007 she launched mint magazine:SOURCEBOOKS llc., a series of  annual subject-specific—think shopping, continuing education, beauty and food, to name a few—source guides for Chicago.

So whether you’re looking for the best manicure in the city, you’re a fan of Shabbat dinners or a fellow creative mind, Sara Fiedelholtz is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a doctor or the first female president of the United States.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love the fact that I am able to use both sides of my brain. I love the fact that I get to think creatively but act strategically. I also love that I get to take a simple idea and turn it into a finished product from which an entire business can be built.

3. What are you reading?
Everyday I read the daily entry in Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s The Book of Jewish Values: A Day-to-Day Guide to Ethical Living. I’m also reading Built to Last: Successful Habits of Visionary Companies by James Collins and Jerry Porras and The Nine Questions People Ask About Judaism by Dennis Prager and Joseph Telushkin

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I am a big fan of the hamburgers and sweet potato fries at Uncommon Ground. I’m also a big fan of 200 East Chestnut--they have incredible homemade (just like bubbe’s) marinara sauce.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A chemical to be added to the world’s water supply that would make people kinder toward each other.

6.Would you rather have the ability of fly or the ability to be invisible?
I would like to be invisible. As a journalist I can’t think of anything better than really being able to be a fly on the wall.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
I haven’t joined the 21st century, I still listen to CDs. I am a proud non-iPod owner. My CD collection does include: John Denver, Bob Marley, James Taylor, Carol King, Neil Diamond, Paul Simon and several movie soundtracks.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago – in words, how do you Jew?
I like getting friends together for Shabbat dinner.

Ami James is talented, generous, handsome and... Jewish!

You may recognize Ami James as the sharp-tongued, hot- tempered tattoo artist from TLC’s Miami Ink.

I’ll admit I was slightly intimidated when I caught up with James at the new dana hotel and spa—a $60 million dollar, 216-room development at 660 N. State Street in Chicago, for which James was commissioned to design “Do Not Disturb” door hangers for each room—but I quickly discovered that underneath Israeli-born James’s tough, tattooed (and might I add, handsome) exterior, lies a talented artist with a big heart.

James hit it big in 2005 when TLC picked up his idea for a reality show following him and his three best friends as they opened a tattoo shop in Miami. “Like every other show, you shop around until a network picks it up,” James says. “TLC, they wanted to change The Learning Channel to something edgy.” Now in its fourth season, Miami Ink is one of the network’s most highly watched shows, bringing in between five and six million viewers each week and spawning spin-offs, LA Ink and London Ink.

Although the show’s website describes him as “the tough guy you don’t wanna mess with,” James says he is “nothing like [he’s characterized] on the show.”

“It’s really funny how everybody assumes you’re a certain person that’s portrayed on a TV show, but in a TV show you really are portrayed the way the editing room wants to portray you. You have no say,” he says. “I rarely scream at anybody, I never argue, but the show is only 40 minutes out of that whole week and they’ll focus on what they want to focus on.”

He says the network also wanted the show to center on sad stories of meaningful tattoos, and to shy away from the stereotypical image of a tattoo parlor drunks stumble into late at night and get some permanent body art they’ll regret the next morning.

“We’re trying to focus on educating the people and kind of putting a little more thought into the tattoos,” he says. “That’s where the stories evolve from, but we definitely didn’t want to make the whole show point out every sad story, but that’s what the network wanted. In reality, we tell a lot of happy stories, but I think it’s important to have a meaningful tattoo.”

Meaningful, yes, but specifically sentimental, no. He often deters people from getting tattoos of their girlfriends or wives’ names. “You know,” he says, “tattoos last longer than romance.”

James co-owns the tattoo shop with friend and co-star Chris Nuñez; the duo also co-own Love/Hate bar and the DeVille Clothing Company in Miami.

But wait, isn’t a Jew with a tattoo a taboo?

“God didn’t really go, you know guys, tattoos are not good, but piercings, nose jobs, boob jobs, ass jobs—those are all fine,” he says. “It’s really funny how you have all these super Jews running around with tons of plastic surgery at the age of 65 always stopping me and preaching to me that [Jews are] not supposed to get tattoos.”

“We aren’t supposed to desecrate our bodies no matter what, so follow the rules or don’t follow them at all.”

While James does not consider himself a religious Jew, he definitely will never forget where he came from.

Born in Sinai, James and his family moved to Tel Aviv in 1976 when Israel gave Sinai back to Egypt. When he was 12, he moved to Miami with his mom and brother, where he fell in love with tattoos as an art form and got his first one, a dragon, at age 15.

At 17, James returned to Israel to voluntarily join the Israeli Defense Forces. “All my friends I grew up with went into the army and I felt like I was running away from it and I didn’t want to be that guy,” he says. “It turned me into a man, but then you realize, even when you’re 21, you’re not a man yet.”

James says while he will never return to live in Israel full-time, he hopes to one day have a summer home there. “I love Israel,” he says. “I do hope that we’ll compromise one day and be able to live in peace because my whole life I’ve lived pretty much not in peace and I’ve watched how hard it is—I’ve watched friends die, I’ve watched soldiers die in my hands. One day, it’s gotta stop.”

After he got out of the IDF at 21, James came back to the States to become a tattoo artist. “I’ve always been an artist,” he says. “And I found a way to not be a starving artist.”

And if you still can’t embrace the softer side of James, his charity work and love for animals and children should do the trick.

“People do a lot of wrong these days, but kids and animals never do any wrong,” he says. “The two purist forms of heart and love the innocence of both makes me want to make a difference every day.”

James was the face of PETA’s “Ink, not Mink,” campaign and has also worked with Amigos for Kids and the Make-a-Wish Foundation.

“I don’t do it for recognition,” he says. “I really could give a shit if anybody knows. It really makes me feel good at the end of the day.”

In contrast to his love for animals and children, James hates the corporate world, something that drew him to this design project with Chicago’s new dana hotel.

“I like people getting out of the box and doing something different, especially eco-friendly hotels,” he says. “It’s cool to see people get involved in art. So when I was asked to do the “Do Not Disturb” signs for the doors—that would be the last thing I would ever think anybody would ask me to do—so as soon as I got approached to do it I was like, ‘hell yeah I have to do this.’ It’s just something that I really wanted to do.”

                               

You'll find these edgy "Do Not Disturb" signs on your door at the new dana hotel and spa

You can check out more of the things that James really wants to do—and does really well—at  Miami Ink, dana hotel and spa, PETA, Make-A-Wish Foundation and Amigos for Kids.

See Matisyahu at Ravinia, Thursday June 26

Ravinia is about to be blessed with reggae’s most unlikely rising star: an Orthodox Jewish beatboxer who skipped out on his senior year of high school to follow the hippie jam band Phish.

Born Mathew Miller, Matisyahu (the Hebrew version of "Matthew,” and the name he adopted on becoming observant), certainly doesn’t fit the stereotypical reggae profile: He passes on the Ganja for the Torah, and forgoes dreadlocks for a traditional Hasidic tall black hat, starched white shirt and black suit.

Who would have thought that the Talmud could meet the likes of Peter Tosh and Bob Marley? While some may dismiss his act as gimmicky, others embrace it as a new genre and he is lauded for carving out his own niche, by blending Orthodox Judaism and classic reggae. Either way, Matisyahu seems to consistently pull it off; his first major label debut, Live at Stubbs, a live concert recording from the famous venue in Austin TX, has sold nearly 700,000 copies.

Ironically, the defining moment for Matisyahu’s career came back in 2005 at Bonnaroo, when he appeared on stage with former Phish frontman Trey Anastasio. Although Matisyahu had released his 2004 debut, “Shake Off the Dust… Arise” on JDub Records, a non-profit for innovative Jewish music, this event was his ticket to being discovered, by thousands of fans and a major label.

While Matisyahu puts religion first (he won’t perform on Friday nights in observance of Shabbat, with the exception of his performance in Fairbanks, Alaska, a gig which was allowed because the sun didn’t go down until 2 a.m. local time), it certainly hasn’t impacted his touring schedule or performances. And his religious beliefs don’t deter his rowdier female fans, but they shouldn’t expect so much as a high-five, or even handshake from the thickly bearded artist who was raised in a traditional Jewish household; Orthodox Jewish law prohibits it.

Currently, Matisyahu is busy at work recording a new full-length album, scheduled for release in late 2008. He’s working alongside producer David Kahne (Sublime, Paul McCartney and 311), and says this album is going to be different than the previous releases. “It’s not sticking to any one form of music,” he says. “People will really be able to relate to the lyrics. It’s for people who are searching, looking for inner growth—to expand and to find truth within themselves; within the world.”

While Matisyahu might not have envisioned he’d become an icon or a spiritual leader of sorts to droves of youth, he feels strongly about the personal journey and spirituality, and says he can relate to those who continue to search. “I didn’t get there. It’s a lifelong process of getting there,” Matisyahu says. “When a person thinks they’ve gotten there, it’s a sign they haven’t.” But, he says, “It’s a lifetime of moments; every experience gets you somewhere.”

Matisyahu performs at 8 p.m. on June 26 at Ravinia (847) 266-5100, or www.ravinia.org; $40 reserved, $20 lawn.

These two M.O.T's will tie the knot this August

My grandmother always had an uncanny way with words, but even I was not anticipating her remark after shuffling through my high school prom pictures.

“You look beautiful, honey, but he doesn’t look very Jewish.”

I always knew there was an expectation that I was going to marry someone Jewish. But 18-year-old me neither agreed with those expectations nor had ever contemplated that my boyfriend at the time, whose last name was Nguyen, would not look Jewish enough in pictures.

I don’t know why my family made it such a point to make it known to me throughout my years that I would marry Jewish. Maybe it was that I grew up in a community with a relatively small Jewish population and they felt the need to overcome all the intermarriage surrounding me. Maybe they figured I would live up to their expectations if only to avoid another issue about which to feel Jewish guilt.

Either way, their efforts didn’t work. I told them I would stop dating non-Jews when I went away to college, but that was more to quell the nagging than anything else.  I knew I wanted my children to be raised Jewish, but in my mind, an open-minded, non-Jewish husband would work out just fine.

I was used to my high school days of attending Christmas dinner and filling up on mashed potatoes and green bean casserole because everything else looked like ham. I had become accustomed to limiting my use of Yiddish and dumbing down words as simple as kvetch and mensch to avoid needing to explain time and time again what they meant.  And, when my high school boyfriend and I didn’t actually end our relationship when I left for college, I became fairly adept at omitting any mention of him to my family.

Then, during my sophomore year in college, I happened to meet a nice Jewish boy. We began dating, and I began realizing for myself that there really is something to staying within the faith.

All of a sudden, I was getting sent Passover cookies from my new boyfriend’s mom. We started making plans to spend Day 1 of Rosh Hashanah with my family in Delaware and Day 2 with his family in New Jersey. Best of all, I had become a Jewish social climber – a mere Israelite dating a Cohen.

Now, more than four years later, we’re planning our wedding together, and I don’t need to explain to him what a chuppah is. We toiled around Devon and Dempster in an attempt to find a ketubah, only to end up on e-ketubah.com, marveling at the site’s mini Hebrew keyboard that popped up to allow us to enter our Hebrew names. We’re getting married on a Sunday, and neither one of us ever contemplated having it any other way. We’re trying to convince my mom that the horah doesn’t need to be played for 30 minutes, and I guess we’ll find out how successful we’ve been come the big day.

While my grandmother has since passed, I know she would have no qualms with our engagement pictures, where both of our noses definitively indicate that we are members of the same tribe.

Leigh knows where the art is at

When Leigh Fagin relocated from New York to Chicago for grad school, she had no idea she’d find herself planting Midwestern roots in our city’s art scene.  Four years later, Leigh is the Collaborative Programs Coordinator for the Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs where she plans city-wide arts programs, including Chicago Artists Month every October. You can also find Leigh volunteering on the junior board of the Heartland Alliance or perfecting her knife skills at Whole Foods culinary classes.

So whether want an introduction to an emerging artist, enjoy capturing Chicago on film and video or appreciate a well-diced onion, Leigh Fagin is a Jew you should know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
When I was young, living out my dreams on the stage, I had no doubt that I would be a high school drama teacher to bring the wealth of possibilities to future generations. My years in theater contained some of the most inspiring, engaging, life changing moments of my youth. Through those experiences, I made my first true friends and met the teachers that would influence the way I approach every job I have ever had. My love of the arts was something that I felt could be contagious through teaching—and I wanted to open doors for my students to see the world in different ways through art.
 
2. What do you love about what you do today?
I love that I can provide opportunities, networks and resources to those in my field that can actually help people reach their goals. I love that I am constantly in the know about what is happening in the city and that I am surrounded by people who share my desire to engage in the events I’m most excited about. I'm thrilled that my professional life and personal life are so gracefully connected on a daily basis. I love that I can take part in the cultural life in this city in a way that allows me to continuously give back—working on programs that are free and open to the public throughout the year.
 
3. What are you reading?
I’m currently reading the novels of Murakami (The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, Kafka on the Shore and his short stories). Murakami has the sensibility of someone who has latched onto the innate spirituality of everyday things and the mysterious ways fate can function. I’ve been enjoying his imagination, his vision of the world if you suspend disbelief and allow yourself to engage with superstition in new ways. Although, I have been having funny dreams related to talking cats and water wells, but it’s also part of the fun!
 
4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I think my favorite place to eat/drink/read and be in Chicago is the Bourgeois Pig. Not only does it have the beauty of an old grey stone, classical music playing at the right volume, no internet access to distract me from good conversation or books, but they bake a mean chocolate chip muffin. And I once met a man there who has changed my life forever, so being there reminds me of that day.
 
5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
With the time and support, I would invent a way to redistribute wealth and resources throughout the globe to those in need.
 
6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
I think I would want to be invisible so that I could basically "audit" classes in universities all over the world, gaining access to knowledge that is usually super exclusive, as well as view performances that I normally can’t afford to attend.
 
7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Rocky Horror Picture Show’s "Time Warp,” once performed by my best friend and myself at my Bat Mitzvah.
 
8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago-in other words, how do you Jew?
I like to participate in the Itza Mitzvah group. It’s a place for me to reflect with open-minded individuals of my generation who relate in very different ways to Jewish traditions, holidays, and concerns. Also, working with Heartland Alliance is a way of giving back to my community that feels "Jewish,” and a way of remembering the generosity of my grandparents. Lastly, I am currently working with a friend on a video/internet project to help preserve the Yiddish language for generations to come. Does anyone know any bubbes we can interview?

One-on-One Cancer Support

The angelic Jonny Imerman

Jonny Imerman was your typical college graduate. By day he worked in commercial real estate and at night attended classes for his M.B.A. In his free time, Jonny played basketball, went to the gym and hung out with friends.

And then his life changed. At 26, Jonny was diagnosed with testicular cancer requiring surgery and 5 months of chemotherapy treatments. But, Jonny says, he was lucky, because he had his family and friends to support him through the treatments.

“Many people fighting cancer are by themselves, disconnected from anything, from family, from loved ones, from positive energy around them that could motivate them to get through the cancer,” he says. 

While receiving treatments in the hospital, Jonny made rounds chatting with the other cancer patients, finding inspiration and guidance from his peers. “Talking to someone my own age that has beaten my cancer who was a survivor who could look me in the eyes and say ‘hey I was in the same shoes a year ago, this is what it feels like, this is what's coming and answer all the little questions you have,” made the biggest impression, he said.

In 2003 Jonny, cancer free, left the business world behind and began Imerman Angels, a not-for-profit organization that connects a person fighting with cancer with someone who has survived and beaten the same type of cancer.

“The beautiful thing about cancer is that it helps you throw inhibitions out the window. It got rid of my fear; I never would have had the courage to start a not-for-profit before.”

In just five years, Imerman Angels has spread nationwide. The not-for-profit has a network of 1,000 cancer survivors and matches people from all over the country. And Jonny has a five-year mission: by 2012, every single American diagnosed with cancer will have free access to a cancer survivor within 24 hours of their diagnosis.

Now 32, Jonny has been cancer free for four years.

“I couldn’t imagine doing anything else in the world. This is why I got sick at the age of 26. It’s the best thing that has ever happened to me because it’s helped me to make the cancer world a better place.”

Fighting Illiteracy

Stacy Ratner, spreading the joy of reading throughout Chicago

Stacy Ratner’s love affair with books began at the age of three. In college, she majored in comparative literature preparing for a career as a copyeditor. But a lack of publishing jobs led Stacy down a different route-- she became a lawyer and, as she puts it, a “serial entrepreneur.” At 35, Stacy has successfully launched six businesses.

Two years ago, Stacy realized she wanted books back in her professional life. She began researching literacy rates in Chicago and what she discovered was alarming: Almost 53% of adults living in Chicago have reading difficulties.

“I’ve been a reader all my life; it never occurred to me that so many people in Chicago can’t read a bus schedule, pay their bills or read to their children. I never imagined how limited these people’s lives must be.”

Stacy decided to use her business acumen to create Open Books, a non-profit dedicated to raising awareness and combating illiteracy throughout Chicago.

“Literacy is fundamentally linked to poverty. It is a self-perpetuated cycle where people are dependent on others to function. The fact that so many in Chicago can’t read was a real wake-up call for me. It was a smack in the face. But, at the same time, illiteracy is not like the war in Iraq or world hunger—it is not an unsolvable problem.”

Stacy, with a staff of five full-time employees, more than 600 volunteers and the support of 20 literacy organizations in the city, is working to solve the problem. Open Books tutors and mentors underserved youth and provides adult education as well as ESL classes. 

In the spring of 2009 the not-for-profit will open a bookstore.  The first floor will house 50,000 books, a café and reading nooks, the second floor will be classrooms and a computer center. 

“Open Books has allowed me to share my love of reading with others—from the parent that can read a nighttime story to their child for the first time, to the elderly American who can read the label on his prescription drug bottle; we want to spread the joy of reading to everybody.”

Be Bright Pink

Lindsay Avner is the ultimate Bright Pink Girl

Lindsay Avner was 22 years-old when she underwent a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy.

With a family history of cancer (her mother is a breast and ovarian cancer survivor and her grandmother and great grandmother both succumbed to breast cancer) Lindsay knew she was at risk. Genetic testing after college confirmed that she had inherited the breast/ovarian cancer gene, so she made the difficult decision to undergo surgery ensuring that she would not be another cancer victim.

“When I decided to come out and talk about my own unique experience, what was amazing was not the amount of press, [including The Today Show, CNN, Vogue and The Chicago Tribune] but how many young women reached out to the writers and the TV producers to say ‘oh-my-gosh, she is telling my story.’” 

To keep people talking about this important topic, Lindsay began Be Bright Pink, a Chicago-based organization dedicated to providing support to young women who are at high risk for breast and ovarian cancer.  

In less than two years, Be Bright Pink has grown exponentially with chapters in Chicago, New York and Miami and members throughout the country. Be Bright Pink partners with genetic counselors and OBGYN’s to identify girls who are at high risk for breast cancer and offers them, “companionship and empathy during their journey.” 

Lindsay shies away from the traditional support group model; instead Be Bright Pink is designed to support her generation. The organization hosts events that encourage girls to get out and attend yoga classes, to grab cocktails with girlfriends and to gab over cheese and crackers. Lindsay describes a Bright Pink Girl “as a dynamic, amazing person who is going to spend a Saturday socializing at a bar with her girlfriends.”

“This is a non-profit organization that I run as a business. I’m just in the business of reaching people with this amazing message that help change their lives.”

On June 29th Be Bright Pink will host a high tea at the Drake “for the women we love.”

Andy, enjoying some geography

A very wise Miss Teen USA contestant once tried to explain why so few American students are able to locate states and/or countries on a map. Although I give her points for trying (“such as with the Iraq”), she wasn’t really able to illuminate the issue terribly clearly… But still, the initial question resonated with me.

This blatant skill deficit in geography isn’t simply limited to America’s youth and beauty queens. I will freely admit that my barber recently had to explain to me exactly where Bulgaria is (apparently, it’s in the Balkans), and, being an East-Coast boy at heart, it is often difficult to identify which square is Nebraska and which is Kansas.

However, my lack of knowledge of world geography is offset by my incredible talent in another subject: Jewish Geography.

Given the trajectory that my life has taken--from growing up outside Washington, D.C., in the synagogue-soaked suburb of Potomac, MD, to attending school in Philadelphia at an institution often referred to as “Jew-Penn,” to putting in my compulsory two years living in Manhattan and finally moving to Chicago in search of change—I have been expertly schooled in the subject of Jewish Geography.

What’s interesting about Jewish Geography, as opposed to “traditional geography” (you know, with the maps and the longitudes and all that), is that it isn’t really a subject, as much as it is a game. We don’t discuss Jewish Geography, we play it to make friends in a new city, or to establish credibility among strangers, and more importantly, to connect ourselves to the community.

As I have honed my skills and technique over the years in various settings, I’ve been able to formulate a sort of theoretical rule book/advice primer for players of all levels:

1.    Guessing what fraternity or sorority a fellow Jew was in doesn’t count. There are too few nationally Jewish greek organizations on college campuses, a fact which inherently makes the choice easier. So, zero points for that.
2.    If you can tell an anecdote about the mutual friend you and a fellow Jew just discovered you share, this is more impressive than just knowing a name. Nowadays, one can easily name-drop simply by perusing other peoples’ Facebook pages. Or so I’ve been told.
3.    If you know someone from somewhere other than high school, college, summer camp, or an Israel program (i.e., Birthright, study abroad, your tour of duty in the IDF when you were “finding yourself”), you get bonus points. For example, if you can use a version of the quote, “Of course I know Rebecca Schlotzky- her father circumcised me!” well, that’s just the kind of memory that will really help you build that connection with your new Jewish friend.
4.    Don’t overplay. I can’t state this enough. Ask your new Jewish friend if he or she knows Brian Goldstein. Or, ask if he or she went to Camp Chi. Or ask whether by saying “I’m from Detroit,” he or she means Bloomfield Hills or West Bloomfield. Just don’t ask all three in a row. There is such a thing as too much Jewish Geography. Dayenu.

All of these rules and regulations may seem stressful, but let’s not overlook the benefits of the game. I would be lying if I told you that a successful Jewish Geography session had never helped me secure a job interview, get a date or find myself suddenly invited to a hot social event. What it is at its core, however, is simply a conversation starter

Thus, as I change jobs, meet new people and become generally more entrenched in this city’s Jewish scene, I will undoubtedly continue to improve my game. I may even work on refining my rules at some point—just as Major League Baseball is considering instant replay, so must Jewish Geography adapt to the times. Social networking websites like Facebook have made the game almost too easy. Back in my day, you really had to know a Jew- you couldn’t just complacently be content knowing he or she is in the Chicago network, is a fan of Berry Chill, and attended “Sarah Schwartz is Turning 27!!”

But I may just have to accept the current state of Jewish Geography as is, and continue to enjoy it as an icebreaker, an interesting way to kill a couple of minutes at a party, and a wonderful example of just how connected we really are as a people.

Besides, it’s far more exciting to discover that the cute stranger at the YLD happy hour once ate at your favorite hometown deli than it is to be able to point out the square that represents Nebraska on a map.

Sarah lets everyone eat cake

Chicago native Sarah Levy is passionate about her dessert. Growing up in a family full of food connoisseurs, (think Spiaggia and Bistro 110) Sarah knew early on that her specialty was pastries. Just two weeks after graduating from Northwestern University with a degree in Sociology, Sarah decided to pursue her dream of opening her own bakery and enrolled at the French Pastry School of Chicago. In no time, she had a burgeoning wholesale sweets business running out of her families’ kitchen. Today, Sarah runs two shops at 70 E. Oak St and in the Macy’s on State. With a wide variety of delicious treats ranging from chocolate dipped candies to elegant wedding cakes and breakfast delights, Sarah’s Pastries and Candies is a favorite Chicago sweet spot.

So, whether you kick it old school without an iPod, dig Jewish diners, or need your daily chocolate fix, Sarah Levy is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to have my own bakery one day!

2. What do you love about what you do today?
Honestly, my favorite part is getting to eat sweets all day! Food has always had the ability to make me happy. I also love being able to create something that can make others happy. It's such a great feeling to have someone come in and say that the birthday cake we made for their daughter was the hit of the party, etc....

3. What are you reading?
I just read  Gang Leader for a Day —great book!

4. What's your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I love Mia Francesca, Coast and Ron of Japan! (and there are so many more!)

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
The most delicious tasting pastry, that just so happened to be fat free and calorie free.

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or ability to be invisible?
Invisible.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure song would I find?
Believe it or not, I don't have an iPod, but I love old school Madonna and Michael Jackson.

8. What's your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in other words, how do you Jew?
I love frequenting Jewish delis like Ashkenaz and Eleven City Diner.

Stacey has good taste and great recipes

When people ask me what I love most about being Jewish, the images flash before my eyes.

Succulent slices of slow cooked brisket, moist with rich tomato-y gravy. Latkes, crisp on the outside, melting in the middle, with applesauce and sour cream. Light as air matzo balls, floating in a pool of golden chicken soup, dense sweet noodle kugel. After all, I’m the girl who, when asked what she wanted for her third birthday dinner, answered “brisket and farfel!” 

I mean, yes, of course I love being a part of a religion that allows so many different ways to worship, that holds such a long tradition of philanthropy and artistry, that has such interesting traditions and rituals. Even though I have never been particularly observant, I chose Brandeis as an undergraduate in large part because the school represented the best of educational excellence and social activism. Getting all the Jewish holidays off didn’t hurt my feelings, either.

But while my matriculation there did wonders for my Yiddish vocabulary, it didn’t make me any less secular. For me, someone whose upbringing always felt a little bit Jew-ish, as opposed to really Jewish, food is where I have always felt most connected to my people and my history.

Don’t get me wrong, my family isn’t non-practicing, we just have our own style. We may not have belonged to a temple, but my sister and I were both bat mitzvahed, we just did it with a private tutor instead of Hebrew school, and with a borrowed Torah at our weekend place instead of on a traditional bimah. And for mine, a Chinese buffet luncheon to follow. We share the major holidays with friends and family, choosing readings from books in the living room over synagogue services. Our Passover seders may be brief, but they have deep meaning and we take them seriously, adding our own traditions over the years.

But always, the celebration centers on food. Apples and honey on Rosh Hashanah, blintzes to break the Yom Kippur fast, tzimmes on Passover. I am an accomplished home cook, and while my regular dinner parties are likely to be based in French or Italian peasant cooking, my Jew food is pretty spectacular, thanks to my paternal grandmother, Jonnie, who shared her knowledge, her recipes, and her love through the holiday dishes she prepared.

Food, both the specifics of traditional recipes, and the generic feeling of gathering friends and family around the table, is always at it’s core a Jewish experience for me. Breaking of bread, or matzo where appropriate, sharing of stories, the sense of unity created around a dinner table, this is where I feel the most direct link to our shared past. I have always believed that when a people have been forced in their history to work hard at maintaining community, bringing people together for meals becomes an essential part of how you keep faith.

When I was first contacted about contributing to Oy!, I immediately suggested this column. A way to celebrate food and food people, through essays, reviews and interviews. A way to remind us all that whether it is a corned beef sandwich handed over by the incomparable Gino on the line at Manny’s Deli, or Grant Achatz’s  24 course tasting tour at Alinea, Jews will want to know what is good, where to go and what to order. After all, I have never sat at a meal with any group of Jews, secular or deeply observant, where the conversation didn’t eventually get around to where the next meal would be!

And if you’re really nice to me and the other contributors to this department, we might even share our grandmother’s recipes.

I’d love to hear from you if you have restaurants you’d like us to review, recipes you are in search of, Jewish chefs or restaurateurs you’d like to see profiled…just drop a note to info@oychicago.com and we’ll see if we can’t accommodate you.

Nosh of the week:  For your next barbeque, head over to the Vienna Factory Outlet at the corner of Damen and Fullerton to pick up your dogs. My family has always used the 5 to-the-pound natural casing dogs, which for me taste of summer and love. Be sure to score them about three times on each side before grilling, and keep them moving over direct heat until they are a nicely burnished mahogany all over. Whether you like a traditional Chicago dog with mustard, relish, onion, pickle, sport peppers, tomato slices and celery salt, or just plain on a really good bun, these meaty beauties are incomparable.

Yours in good taste,
Stacey Ballis

 

Stripe Quilt Painting

A hipster is not simply a skinny musician in tight pants and Chuck Taylors with a PBR in one hand and a cigarette in the other. A young Jewish professional is not always a well-dressed, curly-haired, no-nonsense woman. And an artist is not always a tormented waif with a crazy haircut and a half sleeve tattoo. I don’t fully fit into any of these subcultures, but they are all a part of me.

In searching for a theme for this exhibit, I realized that my artwork is equally diverse. I have paintings here about faith, pattern, color, love, fire, balance. Their juxtaposition may seem confusing in one exhibit, but they are all genuine expressions of what my art is about at this point in time. These paintings represent the subcultures within my artistic endeavors.

Still Life Quilt Painting

My quilt paintings begin as separate paintings of layered patterns and are then cut up and sewn together, incorporating stitching into the patterns. They are about finding a balance amid the complexity of colors, shapes, patterns and emotions. They merge the ideas of craft and art, quilting and painting.

Reclining in Peace

The figure in this painting has found a balance between the city and nature, between remembering those who came before and the future she will create with her own hands.

The Fire of Anxiety

The figure in this painting is overwhelmed with anxiety and starts burning from the inside out. But there is hope—within the figure is the possibility of calm, represented by the white flower emerging from its own heart.

Ketubah

When Mandi and I decided to have our wedding, we searched for the perfect Ketubah online, but couldn’t find it. We decided that I should make one instead, so I took a calligraphy class and started practicing my Hebrew lettering. I stitched together the different papers from our invitations to symbolize the stitching together of our lives and included a tree as a symbol of balancing stability with continuous change and growth.

Faith is Like Fire

"Faith is by definition irrational. It is, in fact, a little like fire." Fire has endless symbolic potential that I’ve been exploring for years. Fire can be comfort, heat, passion, terror, destruction, memorial, healing, energy, beauty, death. It constantly changes forms and evolves, as we all do over time.

Faith can evolve too. Not just religious faith, but in-general faith. Faith in whatever you have faith in—that things will work out, that the sun will rise, that you can’t predict the future, that you’re a good person, whatever your personal faith is about.

Faith has an untouchable quality kind of like a flame. You can’t grab it but you can feel its heat. It can warm you from the inside out. It can surprise you and leap out when you least expect it.

Faith is a Bird

"Faith is the bird that sees the light when the dawn is still dark" –Tagore. This quote inspired me to visualize faith in another way, as a kind of oasis of light.

My art is inspired by other artists (the big four being Ghada Amer, Marc Chagall, Yayoi Kusama, and Agnes Martin), big abstract ideas like faith, and the small details that bring beauty into our everyday lives like the path of a thread or the pattern of tiles on the floor. I am intrigued with the challenge of finding balance in life and the idea that no one person or one thing can be categorized by a listing of subcultures.

Chai also creates commissioned work and custom Ketubot, working with each individual or couple to create a meaningful work of art.

If you or someone you know would like to be an Oy!Chicago featured artist, let us know!

Janet Ulrich Brooks, playing Golda

On January 2, 1948, Golda Meir stood, unexpected, before Chicago’s Council of Jewish Federations to appeal for the financial support necessary to arm the Jewish forces fighting for an Israeli state.

Today, actress Janet Ulrich Brooks stands on the stage of Pegasus Players’ production of  Golda’s Balcony , reenacting this pivotal moment in Israel’s history. “I have no speech,” she says, giving voice to Meir’s historic words. “I’ll tell you what’s in my heart.”

Pegasus Players is the theatrical heart of Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood, and it too has a passionate appeal and an ambitious mission: “To produce the highest quality artistic work and to provide exemplary theatre, entertainment and arts education at no charge to people who have little or no access to the arts.”  While this mission has taken the company on two theatrical tours in the Middle East, Pegasus remains strongly grounded in its local community, providing creative opportunities for young playwrights, school children, and underserved populations.

Artistic Director Alex Levy has worked with Pegasus Players for nine years, winning numerous awards and citations, and championing the unique community that both supports and benefits from this theatre’s socially progressive objectives. He chose Golda’s Balcony to close this season.

Golda’s Balcony is a challenging play, and I wondered how the overt politics of this decidedly Jewish work would be received in such a diverse community. According to the 2000 census, Uptown is home to about 27,000 white residents, 14,000 African American residents, 13,000 Hispanic/Latino residents, and 5,500 Asian residents. To me, this show seemed a brave, and risky, choice. Levy responded with confident nonchalance, “We very rarely play ourselves on stage. Theatre companies start to reflect their community. Presenting this work to an audience whose life is very different is actually a wonderful thing.”

The production, wonderful as it is, left me troubled. Chicago, with a Jewish population of over 270,000, has the fifth largest concentration of Jews in the United States. With over 200 theatre companies, Chicago’s theatre scene can cater to the individual needs of specific communities. Theatres such as Black Ensemble Theater and Teatro Vista explore the work and histories of their own ethnicities. Teatro Luna, Stockyards Theatre Project, and Rivendell Theatre Ensemble celebrate women theatre artists. About Face Theatre creates work that addresses the concerns of the LBGT community. Other companies are dedicated to children and family programming, stage combat and movement, even culinary entertainment. Why then has our Jewish community, a community that comprises almost ten percent of Chicago’s population, not been able to consistently support a single Jewish theatre? 

 “The push [for a Jewish Theatre] needs to come from the community,” Levy explains, acknowledging that Chicago’s theatrical community consistently produces work by Jewish artists and writers. “Other theatres can pick up the slack, but there isn’t a central home.” 

When theatres presenting Jewish works are not situated within the Jewish community, hard questions can go unasked and stereotypes go unquestioned. “There is a lack of historical memory. Events are not understood in a historical context.”  But Levy also acknowledges the temptation to present work that celebrates a culture without also exploring the problems and challenges that culture faces. Theatre allows a community to examine itself critically, creating a dialogue for change—which is why I think the absence of a Jewish theatre, despite the wealth of Jewish shows being performed, is important.

Jewish stories and themes are part of the cultural dialogue of Chicago, and Uptown, with its rich artistic heritage, is a neighborhood well-known for challenging convention. Golda’s Balcony rises to the challenge. Harsh, unyielding, and undeniably honest, this production successfully celebrates a woman and a nation, but never once shies from the harsh realities of this history. To speak one’s heart is a dangerous thing. Fortunately, Pegasus Players is lending its voice.

Golda’s Balcony runs through June 29 at Pegasus Players, 1145 W. Wilson. Discounted tickets are available by using the promotional code FriendsofJUF.

An Israeli-style Shavuot party at Galit's (center) kindergarten

Unlike most Jewish holidays with their “must do or not do”  restrictions, and themes of being hated, slaughtered or narrowly escaping, Shavuot has some bright features: It's the day that the Torah was given to us, it marks the beginning of the summer, it’s an agricultural holiday that celebrates the harvest—we get to eat delicious dairy food and indulge ourselves with cheesecakes and quiches. And, with the beautiful story of Megilat Ruth (Ruth’s scroll) setting the theme of loving kindness, it’s a pretty great holiday.

When I lived in Israel, Shavuot was always one of my favorite holidays. Growing up in an Orthodox family, my dad used to go to shul after dinner and return at 6 a.m. after studying all night with his friends as part of the "Tikun Leyl Shavuot" custom.

When I got older, I wanted to be a part of those all-night study sessions. In Tel Aviv, I found Alma, an alternative center for Hebrew Culture. My studies there offered me a variety of classes and different interpretations to the classic traditional studies. Going there on Shavuot night became a habit for me and my friends, and it also seemed to represent a shift in the city, which is mostly secular. 

Now living in Chicago, I wonder why Shavuot has been relegated to redheaded stepchild status, its importance falling behind Chanukah and the High Holidays and Sukkot in many Jewish communities. Maybe its primary message about the covenant at Sinai is too scholarly. Maybe its secondary message is less relevant to the daily lives of Jews here—how many among us are farmers? Maybe modern American Jews don’t have enough in them to celebrate two harvest-themed holidays and the excitement of building a hut trumps Shavout. Or, in my opinion, maybe we all need a reminder of the story of Ruth to see where one measure of the holiday’s beauty lies.

I spoke with Rabbi Asher Lopatin from the Modern Orthodox congregation Anshe Sholom B'nai Israel in Lakeview to find out why he thinks Shavuot is so un-hyped—and to talk about the holiday’s relevance for modern American Jews. He agreed that the farming aspect might be an obstacle.

“The holiday focuses on agriculture in Israel which is the same idea as Sukkot and frankly is also not popular,” he says. “(Historically,) Shavuot is the harvest time, so here it’s more challenging for us. We are not farmers,” he says.

But, he says, as Jewish traditions grow in the U.S., there might be a resurgence of interest in the holiday. “In the last 10-20 years all of the movements (including Reform and Conservative) started talking [more] about Torah and Sinai, about learning Torah; and there is more interest in all the movements in Torah and in Tikun Leyl Shavuot. So there is growing interest in the holiday”.

There is also interest in the issue of conversion—a hot topic among many Jews living in Chicago and the U.S.  In short, the story of Ruth is a conversion story—one of love and acceptance that remains relevant today.

During the time of the harvest in Bethlehem, there was a famine. The family of Elimelech, the Prince of Judah, decided to move to Moab and, not long after the move, the sons met two Moabite women—Ruth and Orpah—and married them. When tragedy struck and the men of the family died, Naomi, the matriarch, told her daughters-in-law to return to their families and remarry. Orpah did but Ruth insisted to Naomi: " Where you go I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God." Since that day, Ruth has been considered to be Jewish. She met Boaz, married him and their great grandchild was King David.  

I couldn't help wondering what would happen to Ruth today. Those few sentences sound so simple compared to today’s conversions. I asked the rabbi if Ruth’s quick and easy conversion would fly in today’s Jewish world.

“When Ruth said, ‘Your people will be my people,’ she was accepting Mitzvot and the destiny of the Jewish people,” says Rabbi Lopatin. “Ruth had every reason not to convert, Judaism was not a popular religion. Today, we are more reluctant [in general] and hesitate when things are good. Conversion could take today a few minutes today too, but we need to know that people are committed.”

The main message from Megilat Ruth, Rabbi Lopatin says, is courage and chesed, loving kindness. Even though we love big dramas and heroic tales like those of Exodus and Purim, maybe we should celebrate the “simple” but profound story about chesed, loyalty and devotion.

Author Stacey Ballis, the newest member of the Oy! team

If not for a life-altering epiphany in Kenya, Stacey Ballis might be a very rich lawyer—she might never have taught in a Chicago public high school or worked as the Director of Education and Community Programs at the Goodman Theatre or most recently, written four novels including, Inappropriate Men and The Spinster Sisters. Her fifth book will be released next spring—and her newest writing project will be as a contributor to Oy!Chicago’s new department, Nosh.

So, if you enjoy singing along with Olivia Newton-John while cleaning your closet,  you love food or can’t stop watching Law & Order reruns, Stacey Ballis is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
For a period of time, I wanted to be Mrs. Shaun Cassidy.

I really focused mostly on wanting to be a lawyer from the time I was really young, in a really horribly, geeky way. I was the head of the mock trial team at my high school, I was a member of the Illinois Bar Association’s Young Lawyers Division. But the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college, I spent three and a half months in Kenya, teaching and doing community service. I discovered that while I could be a very rich and successful lawyer, I would not be a very happy lawyer.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
I get to do it in my pajamas. It happens in my living room, which is comfy. Writing is something I’ve always done since I was very young, and the ability to do that full-time, at least for the moment, is pretty amazing. To a certain extent, what I love is what it has done to my life—[it has given me] the ability to truly spend great time with my family and meaningful time with my friends. It also has gotten me totally caught up on all of my Law & Orders.

3. What are you reading?
I just finished Jennifer Lancaster’s, Such a Pretty Fat, and it is completely amazing and fun, and I don’t say that because I’m in it. Much of it takes place in my living room. I’m at the very beginning of Jodi Picoult’s new book, Change of Heart. I usually have a few going at the same time because I read a lot. It’s kind of ridiculous. I also just finished The Book Thief.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I would say right now one of my favorite places to eat is Chalkboard. It has great food, a great wine list and it’s a beautiful little cozy room. So that’s currently one of my top. The Athenian Room, Lula, Buona Terra and Hachi’s Kitchen for Japanese. All of which are right out my back door, which is perfect for when you’re really hungry and really lazy.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A way to sleep more?  At the moment, I would invent a gasoline alternative. I have a Hybrid and I paid $52 for gasoline in McHenry last week. In McHenry!

6. Would you rather have the ability to fly or the ability to be invisible?
Fly, totally.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
I have a playlist that I call Untitled so that nobody knows what it is, and it’s the playlist that I play when I need to do something tedious and boring like clean out a closet. It contains such musical gems as, “Xanadu,” “It’s Raining Men” and “Play That Funky Music, White Boy.” It’s actually so full of that kind of crap that a girlfriend said to me, “do not let a guy you’re dating hear that, because he’ll break up with you.”

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago – in other words, how do you Jew?
Truly there’s meaning, and then there’s fun. One of my favorite ways to Jew is a corned beef sandwich at Manny’s, which I’ve been doing pretty much since I was born. I used to go there with my great-grandfather. That was always a really fun thing, and always felt like a really Jewish thing. On the flip side of that, my dad is on the board of JCFS, and going to those events and doing the good work makes me feel happy.

Catch Stacey at the Printer’s Row Book Fair on Saturday, June 7, at 1:30pm, where she will be moderating a panel discussion on humor and weight issues called, “Through Thick and Thin,” with authors Jennifer Lancaster and Stephanie Klein.

Jason Marquis, team player

As of last Sunday*, the Chicago Cubs have the best record in baseball. We’ve heard that a lot this week, but somehow it never gets old. Last Friday morning, in the midst of the team’s seven-game stomping of the Colorado Rockies, I arrived at Wrigley Field to talk to Jason Marquis.

The night before, Marquis had pitched. Coincidently, I’d been there with friends sitting behind the much-loathed pole in section 228. The next morning, I had a better view waiting in the dugout for Marquis to arrive. I chatted with some of the media regulars about the previous night’s game. I watched the grounds crew pull the tarp over the field—they were expecting rain and  “tornadic activity.”

When Marquis arrived, we talked a bit about the upcoming game. “The Cubs play 50-something day games and people have jobs—but nearly 40,000 show up for every game. It’s electric every time you step on the field. Look at today. It’s overcast and rainy and there will still be 40,000 fans here and that’s the great thing about this place!”

And the fans that skipped out on work that particular day saw an amazing game. The Cubs came back from an eight-run deficit to win 10-9; there wasn’t any tornadic activity outside of the batter’s box. 

If you’re a fan of the movie Bull Durham, which I totally am, you may have grown up connecting baseball to religion in some far-out, mystical Susan Sarandon kind of way. But, there aren’t that many Jews in baseball and there aren’t too many teams with as much mythical lore as the Cubs. So, does being both a Jew and a Cub make Marquis feel doubly persecuted?

When I asked Marquis, who seems like a very laid back guy, he laughed. “Maybe they negate themselves and cancel each other out! But nah, I feel privileged to be part of both the Jewish religion and part of Chicago Cub history. Being from a Jewish background, my parents always pushed education. But I always had time for extracurricular activities too. Sports suited me the most and got me to the highest levels.”

He adds that while there aren’t a lot of professional Jewish athletes, he hopes that more kids who are interested in sports will follow in his and others’ footsteps so in the future, Jewish athletes won’t be such rarity.

As a New York native, Marquis was a Yankees fan as a kid. And during the off-season, he resides in Staten Island. I wondered if he’s still allowed to be a Yankees fan, which I guess would be better than being a Cardinals fan. (Marquis spent the three seasons with our division rival prior to being signed with the Cubs in the 2006 off-season.)

“I grew up a die-hard Yankees fan, and my friends are still all Yankees fans. Now, more than anything, I’m a fan of the team I play for. But when it comes down to it, I’m a baseball fan. When I’m done with this game, I’ll root for the players that I played with and the players that I like, but mostly I’ll just be a baseball fan.”

Life is awesome for Cubs fans right now, and White Sox fans too for that matter. But I didn’t want to ask Marquis about curses or predictions. I didn’t want to know what he thinks of the 100-year destiny talk or any cloven hoofed goats. Because if I have learned anything as a life-long Cubs fan (not to mention a Bull Durham fan), it’s that you don’t mess with a streak and you try to take it one day at a time.

Still, I couldn’t help asking how it felt to play for the team with the best record in the major league. “Last year was a step in the right direction. We got back to the playoffs, and this year we’re off to a really good start,” Marquis says. “It’s nice and fun to be part of a winning team, but obviously it’s a long season so we don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves.”  

Making the move to Chicago was good for Marquis. He’d grown to love the city on road trips when he was with the Cardinals and, for his two young children, Reese Madison and Andrew, the Cubs’ schedule is pretty close to ideal. There are 81 home games and, Marquis emphasized, about 50 are day games, compared to about 20 for most teams. “I love day games because you get a life outside of baseball.”

That life includes hanging out with his kids and his wife in their Lakeview neighborhood and eating at local hotspots including La Scarola and Joe’s Crab House, but it does not include a stint playing acoustic guitar on the most recent Nada Surf album—as stated on his Wikipedia page. He chuckled at that idea. “Nope, I never did.  Not me, I’m musically challenged. I’ll sing a little karaoke revolution on X-Box every once in a while but even then…. I’m terrible, but I do it for fun and I’ll make a fool of myself,” Marquis says.

Judaism played a big role in Marquis’s upbringing and he credits growing up Jewish for helping him develop his morals and ethics. “I learned how to treat people the right way, and I think whether it’s Judaism, Catholicism, Christianity or whatever, religion is a good way for kids to have a solid background. It gives them something to stand on as they grow up so they’re not out there clueless in the world.”

He credits his wife, Debbie, who is Catholic, with sometimes knowing more than he does about Jewish traditions—she wants to make sure the kids learn about their father’s heritage. And as is true in many families, food is an important part of the process. “My dad makes latkes for Chanukah and my mother will make the beef brisket. My wife and my mom cook together around the holidays,” he says.

Marquis might get the chance to connect his work to his heritage sometime soon. Israel is trying to get together a team to compete in the World Baseball Classic, which would take place right before spring training. “They contacted my agent to see if I would be interested. Obviously I would be, but they have to build a team of players, which I think they will,” he says. “I mean, will we stack up against the Dominicans and the U.S.? Probably not, but it would be fun to represent my heritage and where I came from.”

It would be fun to watch Marquis play for Israel. And now that his heritage includes Chicago too, whatever happens with the rest of the 2008 season, I’ll enjoy watching Marquis play for the home team.

*This piece was originally published in Oy! last June. The Cubs are now headed to the playoffs! Go Cubs!

Ian Cooper, expanding his horizons

The majority of Jewish Americans entering their 20s rarely contemplate taking the opportunity to defend their country and serve in the military. Not so for Jewish Israelis, who are required to serve between two and three years in the Israel Defense Forces once they’ve turned 18. For these Chicago Jews, the idea of serving in the IDF was so meaningful that they each found their own unique way of defending the Jewish State.

When Ian Cooper exited the door of the synagogue on Masada after completing his Bar Mitzvah ceremony, he saw a group of Israeli soldiers and experienced a feeling that stays with him to this day.

“They stood there in total silence, in respect to the moment, and when it was over and I came out, they gave me an incredibly warm reception,” Cooper says. “That feeling of brotherhood and warmth was something I never forgot.”

Then, while he was in high school, he spent two months in Israel and made the decision to come back after college to volunteer in the IDF. But after visiting countless college campuses with his twin sister, he realized that his destiny was to go to Israel after high school and go into the IDF at the same age as his Israeli counterparts.

Cooper left for Israel soon after his high school graduation and served for 27 months. Unable to serve in a combat unit due to health issues, he took on the job of a non-commissioned officer in a small education base in Jerusalem’s Old City and ran week-long educational programs on Jerusalem for other soldiers. Not long after being honored as an outstanding soldier, he returned to the United States and began attending Northwestern University.

Cooper attributes his time in the IDF to opening his eyes to issues he’d never before contemplated and exposing him to entirely new experiences.

“I never thought that I would run the equivalent of a marathon with full gear, but it's possible,” he says. “There aren't really any limits to what we can accomplish as human beings as long as we don't restrict ourselves. I never would have had the opportunity to attend a Yemenite Passover Seder, which was way different from what I had experienced growing up. They say the Israeli army is the great equalizer – it brings people from all different religious and ethnic backgrounds and socioeconomic classes together and forces them to get along.”

After graduating Northwestern and bouncing around the world for several years, Cooper is back living in Israel. He works full-time as a licensed tour guide, a passion he realized during his time in the IDF.

“[Serving] is something that I can look back on in pride and say that I pitched in to make sure that we Jews have a place to call home – and not let a bunch of other people here take on the burden for me,” he says.

Stephanie Goldfarb (second from the left) volunteering for the IDF

Extending Birthright

After going on birthright in the summer of 2005, Stephanie Goldfarb extended her stay without much of a thought of what she wanted to do. She had the idea to volunteer for the IDF, and after contacting Sar-El, an Israeli volunteer program, she was handed a uniform and sent off to work.

“Birthright had really solidified my ties to Israel, but once I got into the army, it was a whole different perspective,” Goldfarb says. “It really made me value everything we have in the States—to see so many people my age running around with guns, it made me appreciate more what I have here.”

Goldfarb volunteered with the IDF for a total of three weeks, splitting her time between bases in northern and southern Israel. She did mostly behind-the-scenes work, toiling in warehouses and making packs full of ready-to-eat food, water bottles, clothes and blankets for soldiers who were stationed across the country.

Because she was in Israel during the Gaza disengagement, Goldfarb says that even the sometimes rudimentary work was fulfilling because she knew it was contributing to the overall success of the IDF.

“I felt really proud because I was giving time to the Israeli army during a very sensitive time in history,” she says. “Everyone there had friends who were out there working in the field and in peoples’ homes, and it was exciting to be a part of the whole operation.”

Mark Furman, serving in Israel

Making Aliyah

Above anything else, Mark Furman attributes a “feeling” to pushing him toward making aliyah and moving permanently to Israel. Serving in the IDF was not a primary reason for his decision to make the move, but his strong desire to defend Israel played a large role in expediting his journey overseas.

“Israel has been on my mind most of my adult life, and I didn’t want to regret not living here,” Furman says. “I knew that if I’d made aliyah after the age of 25, I wouldn’t be required to serve at all, so I moved to Israel a month before my birthday.”

Furman trained in both northern Israel and the Negev during the six-month service that is required for all new immigrants who make aliyah between the ages of 22 and 25. He went through basic training and ulpan (intensive Hebrew study) before receiving more in-depth training on how to operate an M71 cannon, considered the most accurate and reliable in the IDF.

Beyond the obvious lessons—he quips that he doesn’t think his suburban life in Chicago would have taught him how to shoot an 80 pound mortar out of a large cannon —Furman gained the confidence of knowing he could play an active role in defending his country.

“During the Second Lebanon War, when I was packing my things before the aliyah, I heard plenty of young people in the U.S. beating their chests and pledging to defend Israel,” he says. “I felt powerless because I could only hope that everything would be all right. Now, I know that if I’m needed, I’m just a phone call away from doing something real.”

To contact Ian Cooper about touring Israel, e-mail  walkisrael@gmail.com

Polly, lookin' pretty sweet

People generally have nice things to say about me. They call me sweet and friendly… I’ve even heard “you’re just a doll” more than once, but I didn’t let it go to my head, because that’s not what dolls do.

But suddenly, I just don’t feel like living up to those lofty adjectives. Don’t get me wrong; I like being sweet. Saying thank you to the bus driver or holding the door open for a mom pushing a stroller are, apparently, unusual acts of kindness these days. But, if I’m honest with myself – and if you watch Oprah, you know it’s all about honesty, girl – the adjective that seems to be fitting me like a glove these days is bitter.

I’ve been trying to fight it, but bitterness may be my destiny. See, I’m named after Great-Grandma Pauline: a woman who had a great sense of humor and took it in stride when her sons made moonshine in the bathtub and her daughters let the Shabbat chickens run free. Not a bad lady to be named after, right? Everyone called her Grandma Polly.

So, I’m Polly. The definition of which is bitter. Seriously, look it up.

As a name, Bitter is bad. My sister is Gracious and Merciful, but we just call her Jane. Undeniable proof of blatant favoritism and another reason to be bitter, but not today’s focus.

So, you may ask, “What’s got you so bitter, Bitter?”

Dating.

I know, I know, that sounds frivolous during this time in history. There are so many important issues worthy of our discussion and debate; war, politics, energy prices, poverty, education, global warming… the list is endless. Being bitter about dating seems pretty low on that list of Upsetting Things.

But in reality, a side effect of war and all the other serious issues of our day is that it makes the singles among us feel a little more single. If you’re not married or dating someone, you miss out on those quiet moments spent talking about things that really matter to you, whether they’re on the world stage, or the little things, like when Trader Joe’s was out of my favorite chocolate yogurt. Does anyone care what a bummer that was? No, not even the people at Trader Joe’s, though it’s nice that they pretend to. But a boyfriend or husband will listen… or at least physically be there, so we can talk to a figurative wall instead of a literal one.

Dating is just plain frustrating for every single single person I know, and it’s especially frustrating if you’re looking for someone Jewish, simply because we don’t have numbers on our side. We try to keep our heads held high, but we can’t help it; occasionally we’re hit by a flood of bitterness.

Here’s an example: Whenever I mention to anyone who’s married that dating is frustrating, they say something like this: “You should try Jdate. I hear people meet all the time on Jdate.”

My response: “Really? Cool. Hey, I know! In my essay ‘About Me,’ I’ll say that I’m just as comfortable in jeans as I am dressing up for a night on the town; in ’My ideal relationship,’ I’ll say that I think communication is really, really important for any relationship to work. I’m both brilliant and original! That’s certainly a combination and that any Jewish fellow would be happy to find in a Jewess! Thanks for the advice! See you at my wedding!”

Okay, I don’t actually say that, but that’s what my bitter mind thinks. The sweet me says, “Yeah. Jdate. Thanks.”

Of course I’ve gone on Jdate! Yes, some guys were nice, some were odd, and some started out as nice until I met them and they morphed into weirdos before my very eyes. Just a tip, guys: Tell a girl that your marriage lasted only two weeks because your wife was a vegan, an alcoholic and not sure of her sexuality before the first date or after the 10th, not on the actual first date. True, if you tell girls before, not as many of them will meet you for coffee, but all you need is the one who does. That’s free advice. You’re welcome.

I tried Jewish speed-dating, too, and was completely nervous before it started. But then I ran into a girl I went to day camp with and hadn’t seen for 25 years, so it started taking on a more adventurous feel. Who else might I meet? Thirty-six possibilities in two hours? Bring it on!

There were actually a few guys I could’ve talked to for a lot longer than the three minutes we were allowed. But with others, it was like being hungry and standing in front of the microwave; as fast as the time goes, it’s just not fast enough.

At the end of the night, though, I was feeling pretty good. I’d written down the names of nine guys I’d be interested in seeing again.

One of the nine put my name down. One. Out. Of. Nine. The friend who I went with had five matches; my camp friend, seven. (And my one put down their names, too… his criteria seemed to be tall, short, blonde, brunette, loves skiing, hates skiing, breathing.)

The question is, how do you meet your beshert? At work? Through friends? Should your parents set you up? Should their friends set you up? Do you meet guys at the grocery store, or running by the lake? Leaving my iPod at home would probably help, but isn’t it possible to have it all: Foo Fighters and a great date?

In an effort to change course, I thought I could start going by my Hebrew name: Miriam. I looked that up, and guess what? “Sea of bitterness.” In Hebrew, my bitterness only grows, and now it’s filling a sea.

So from now on, call me Angelina Jolie Levy… “little angel” and “pretty.” She’s had seems to have some luck. Let’s see what happens.

Polly Levy spent 8 years in Los Angeles where she wrote for Suddenly Susan, and was a Script Coordinator for Frasier, Gilmore Girls and some other TV shows no one has ever heard of.
Now living in Chicago, she is a Senior Content Producer at NogginLabs, where she writes online e-learning courses. In addition, she freelances for the website development company Azavar Technologies.
When not complaining about dating in writing, she can be found complaining about dating at brunch, at the movies, and while shopping. Complaining about dating is off-limits, however, while on actual dates.

Nathan, writing something hilarious

When he is busy at work as head writer of The Onion’s A.V Club, Nathan Rabin may or may not be wearing pants. He co-authored the 2002 A.V Club interview collection, Tenacity of the Cockroach , as well as an upcoming book to be published by Scribner, which also will be publishing his solo debut, The Big Rewind: A Pop Culture Memoir, sometime in 2009. Rabin lives in Chicago with two cats.

So if Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure changed your life, you’re an Onion lover or you enjoy ribs, Nathan Rabin is a Jew You Should Know!

1. What did you want to be when you grew up?
Like a lot of young people, I cycled through dream job aspirations pretty rapidly, hitting all the usual suspects: baseball player, movie star, FBI agent, cartoonist, robot, dragon, princess, ninja, robot and also Robot Ninja Princess. For a long time I thought I wanted to be either a Senator or a police officer. Then I realized that I hated authority figures, and didn’t really want to become one.

When I was 12-years-old I had a Road to Damascus moment watching Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I was going through a particularly tumultuous period in my home life, but for two glorious hours all I cared about was the fate of Bill S. Preston Esquire and Theodore Logan. I decided right then and there that I wanted to be a part of anything that could give people so much unfettered joy. In that moment a film critic was born.

2. What do you love about what you do today?
What don’t I love about my job? It’s pretty fucking sweet. I get to talk to famous people, watch ridiculous movies and write about all the weird pop ephemera that obsess me. Also, I don’t have to wear pants for it, which is odd, since I work out of an office.

3. What are you reading?
Sammy Davis Jr’s Yes I Can. It’s best known to my generation as the book that made Krusty The Klown’s rabbi father appreciate the spiritual richness of show business. It’s also quite Jewy in the best possible way.

4. What’s your favorite place to eat in Chicago?
I appeared on Check, Please a while back, where I raved incoherently about Fat Willy’s having “the best brisket in the world.” That was my sad little catch phrase: “The best brisket in the world!” So, Fat Willy’s. Yeah, that works.

5. If money and logistical reality played no part, what would you invent?
A machine that would allow you to operate a television from several feet away. They haven’t invented that yet, have they? I don’t really keep up with the times. If that doesn’t work how about coffee with the caffeine removed? Or Pepsi you can see through? They’re all fine ideas.

6. Ability to fly or ability to be invisible?
I’m one of those clichéd souls who continually dreams of flight. Also, whenever someone is given the gift of invisibility they invariably turn into a lecherous, greed-ridden monster. So I’m going to have to go with flight.

7. If I scrolled through your iPod, what guilty pleasure would I find?
I am all about a promising young singer/songwriter named T-Pain. You’re probably not familiar with his music—he’s flying low under the radar at this point—but he’s the gentleman who sounds like a robot on top 40 radio. I am not too proud to concede that I have more than one version of “Buy U A Drank” on my iPod and that I listen to them regularly.

8. What’s your favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago—in words, how do you Jew?
That is a good question, and one that made me realize just how secular of a Jew I really am. I guess for me the Jewiest place in all of my Chicago is my dad’s apartment, where I go every Friday night for the most half-assed of Shabbat dinners. We’re all about improvising.

For example: one night my dad couldn’t find a yarmulke so he put a paper napkin over his head to light the candles. That quickly went awry when the napkin caught fire and had to be doused with wine. Oh, the hilarity that ensued! So yeah, for me at least my dad’s apartment is the epicenter of the Chicago Jewish community. Definitely, Shabbat dinner with my dad is my favorite Jewish thing to do in Chicago.