It's Purim, so go to the mall... to hear a megilla reading?

So, last year I posted about the way Israeli teenagers celebrate Purim: by going to the mall in costume (usually as sexy-something, including sexy Santa Clauses... it was quite disturbing). This year, though, my husband and I had other plans: we were going to go to our synagogue to hear a megilla reading. Problem was, we got the time wrong, so we showed up just as Haman's sons were being taken into custody and only about ten minutes before clowns arrived to entertain the kids who had been chattering throughout the whole thing.

We didn't have plans for the rest of the evening, so instead we decided to go to the mall. But something was missing... it didn't feel like a proper Purim without a megilla reading (and it obviously isn't a halachically proper Purim either). Just as we were leaving Steimatsky with a few books, we saw a bunch of young Chabad guys dancing past shouting: "just 10 minutes! Hear the Megilla! It's a big mitzva!" So we followed along, and there next to the Cellcom booth in the Kiryon Mall, we heard a full (turbo-speed) megilla reading.

It was one of those simple, awesome moments that could only happen in Israel-- there we were in a busy aisle between the food court and the Fox clothing store, along with about 15 young Lubavitch guys, a couple of teenage arsim, a few freichot, some 10-year-old boys who stopped by for the novelty value and hamentaschen, a few Israeli guys who looked like they hadn't worn a kipa since their bar mitzvot decades ago, and a security guard who was upset that we were banging on the mall's table too hard when Haman's name came along. These were all probably people who wouldn't go to a synagogue to hear a megilla reading-- they would be VERY sure you knew they aren't dati'im-- but they stopped and listened respectfully as the Lubavitch guy read through the Megilla so quickly that his face turned red. (He read it with feeling, though!) My husband's fingers whipped from line to line as he followed along in the little megilla pamphlet another Chabad guy gave us. After the megilla was finished and the blessing read, the people in the cellcom booth clapped as the Lubavitch guys danced around the table, singing. We left into the wet night air... a good Purim.

Happy (belated) Purim! Don't forget to check out Haveil Havalim, the Purim edition, over on The Israel Situation!

Carrot Sticks do NOT belong in Mishloach Manot

My origami-boxed mishloach manot

Just one more Purim-related post, for all my friends in Shiloh and Jerusalem who are celebrating Shushan Purim. :)

When I was trying to decide what to put in the mishloach manot (traditional gifts of food) that I would send on Purim, my first thoughts were to go for things like fresh fruit and crackers. This made sense based on what I'd experienced in America. My husband explained to me that this is NOT how things are done in Israel. Here, mishloach manot should contain nothing with more nutritional content than Bamba (which, for the uninitiated, are a lot like Cheese Whizzes only flavored with peanut butter). Ideally, mishloach manot contain chocolate, hamentaschen, hard candies, and more chocolate. Maybe a small bottle of wine, but the antioxidants in red wine might make it just a bit too healthy to include.

Therefore, I went nuts on Monday baking cookies. I also found an amazing recipe for hamentaschen in an Israeli cookbook. I've never seen a recipe like it in the US. Here's my best translation!

From the book Chagim (Holiday Entertaining), by Shai Li Lipa Angel. Apparently you can order it in the US through the Israeli bookstore chain Steimatzky-- http://www.stmus.com/prod/product_info.php?products_id=2595&language=en

This cookbook contains creative recipes for every holiday (including Israeli specialties for Independence Day), and the Hebrew in the recipes is quite easy to understand. I've only made a few recipes from this book so far, but they have all been fresh and delicious. (I love the simple recipe for goat cheese-stuffed dates!)

Disclaimer: this is my best translation of the recipe. And even if I misinterpreted parts, my version tasted better than any other hamentaschen I've made!

Oznei Haman (Hamentaschen-- although the Hebrew literally tranlates to "Haman's Ears")
Makes 25

Ingredients:
320 grams (2 1/4 cups) flour
200 grams butter, softened
100 grams powdered sugar
1 egg
1 tablespoon smooth jam

Filling:
2/3 cup jam (or neutella or chocolate spread, carob butter, or more-- I used date spread!)

For decoration:
Powdered sugar

Jam in the dough? Yes. It's true that it's just one tablespoon, but it makes all the difference. You get a pastry that is crunchy and melts in the mouth. Oznei Haman with the taste of "paam" (yesteryear, essentially), in the best sense of the word.

Click on the image to enlarge:

1. Preparing the dough: Mix together all the ingredients in a big bowl with your hands until it comes together into a ball. If the dough is sticky (mine was), add some flour. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap (nylon) and chill in the refridgerator for an hour.

2. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C (about 360 degrees F)

3. Fill and bake: Roll out the dough until it is about a half centimeter thin. (I think I made mine a bit thinner.) Using the rim of a class or a cookie cutter, form circles about 8 cm across. Place a flat teaspoon of the filling in the center of each circle, close each "ear" (i.e., fold in the sides of the circles), and place on a cookie sheet covered in parchment paper.

4. Bake 15-20 minutes, until the pastry browns slightly. Sprinkle with powdered sugar. Keep in a closed container for up to a week.

~

Did I mention that Israeli recipes use odd measurements like grams, centimeters and celsius? Believe me, I'm still confused about how many grams of butter make a half cup. This is why the first half of the oatmeal cookies that I made from an American recipe spread to a crispy, lacy film on the cookie sheets... I think they were a little butter-enriched. If anyone can tell me how many cups are in one of our sticks of butter here, I'll be eternally grateful. The hamentaschen, on the other hand, turned out beautifully-- exactly like the picture in the recipe, just a little more brown than golden. I'm not so good at the whole "not burning food" side of baking. But it was nothing that a generous amount of powdered sugar at the end couldn't cover up...

If you're looking to entertain on the holidays like an Israeli, buy this cookbook! :) And remember, the more calories you can fit into your mishloach manot, the better. Feel free to treat yourself to your very own shushan purim hamentaschen feast... I know I'm still enjoying all those butter-enriched cookies. :)

Happy Purim!! (Now go to the mall.)

On Israeli TV in October, I heard Halloween described as the "American Purim." I thought that was a refreshing reversal of that old (equally inaccurate) line that Hannukah is the Jewish Christmas. But now that I've experienced Purim in Israel, I can say that it's actually much more!

First, Purim is celebrated here at so many levels. There was the Purim parade down the main street of our town on Friday, full of school children in matching costumes (see post below) and straggling teenagers who were too cool to dress up. There were clowns on stilts and Carnival-style dancers with feather tails. Kindergarten classes chorused by on the sidewalks a bit after the main parade, in pairs organized by their watchful teachers.

The teenagers themselves celebrated in malls. We went to the mall on Sunday to buy supplies for our mishloach manot baskets, and discovered this (click on the image to see a larger version):
What you can't see well in the picture is just how many of the teenagers are in costume. We saw countless brides, "punks," clowns. And in true American Halloween fashion, there were countless teenage girls who use this day as an excuse to dress, well, in less. We saw sexy angels, sexy policewomen, sexy cats, sexy ladybugs, sexy princesses, sexy soccer players, even sexy Santa Clause girls. And the mall was FULL. Parents took little kids (more often dressed as cowboys, princesses or muscle men) to the mall when they weren't sure what to do with a day off from school and kids eager to show off their costumes.

Even secular Israelis fulfill many of the mitzvot of Purim. Every grocery store is full of cellophane-wrapped packages of mishloach manot, sales on candy, boxes of hamentashen. At our megilla reading, costumed kids and adults drowned our Haman's name with headache-inducing enthusiasm, while a possibly senile old woman in front of me lazily shook her grogger through the whole thing. We stayed up last night getting our own mishloach manot ready-- we're about to go on a delivery. And of course, the rabbi reminded us of that other important mitzvah of Purim, giving to the poor.

I'm struck by the extent to which you feel Jewish holidays in Israel. To be a secular Jew in the US means that you barely know Tu b'Shvat or Purim happens. But here dried fruit goes on sale at Tu b'Shvat, and almond trees actually start to bloom. (Calling Tu b'Shvat the new year of trees always felt like a nasty joke in Pennsylvania, as snow and ice covered black tree branches.) For Purim, television ads show rock stars dancing in costume at parties, grocery stores sell plastic breastplates for little knights, and kids have off school. For better or worse, Jewish holidays are as commercialized and ubiquitous in Israel as Christian holidays are in America, and personally I'd say it's for better. I like that Purim isn't just a Hebrew school activity here; it's owned by those teenagers in the mall and the little princesses with groggers and the adults trading gifts of food. I look forward to someday explaining to my kids that Halloween is a kind of American Purim, but not as fun.

Happy Purim!

Everyone ELSE on the Road is an Idiot

(These are not idiots. These are children dressed up as
traffic signals in the Kiyrat Bialik Purim Parade.)

In honor of the fact that I'll take the first driving lesson en route to my Israeli license tomorrow, and the fact that the theme of the Purim Parade in Kiryat Bialik this year was road safety (really), a post about Israeli driving etiquette.

To drive in Israel, remember one simple rule:

Everyone else on the road drives like an [insert term: idiot/maniac/nephew of a monkey/Polish grandmother].

You, of course, drive very well. Every Israeli, personally, is a good driver. You keep a safe distance between yourself and the car in front of you, only talk on your cell phone in case of an emergency (for example, if your friend needs to figure out what plans are for Saturday night now), and pay close attention to all the cars around you.

On the other hand, OTHER Israelis are dangerous drivers who must be snapped into consciousness through skillful application of your horn. Other Israelis do not stop at intersections and pull out into streets without looking and must be honked at so that they do look. Other Israelis jabber on their cellphones constantly, even about stupid little things like Saturday night plans when their friends don't need to talk about them right now, and must be honked at with your free hand. Other Israelis must be honked at so that they notice you cutting them off. Other Israelis don't start moving when the light is about to turn green, so they need to be honked at so that they don't waste a precious second of potential movement. Other Israelis tailgate you, ignoring the "Keep your Distance" sign that you have clearly placed on your bumper. Other Israelis drive too slowly, and so you are forced to honk your horn, flash your lights, or tailgate them (safely, of course, because you're a good driver who pays attention) so that they don't keep you from making the next light. And other Israelis insist on honking their horns at you for no good reason, which is extremely rude.

To recap, if you want to be Israeli, you must be an extraordinarily good driver (like every Israeli) to make up for all of the crazy maniacs driving on Israeli roads.

If this doesn't make logical sense to you, bear in mind that the crazy drivers are not like you. Israeli men will tell you that women are the worst drivers, although of course they're wrong. Israeli women will tell you that Russians are terrible drivers, and Russians will explain that Arabs drive like maniacs.

So when you're on the road, remind other drivers to keep their distance and show a little bit of respect for the other drivers on the road! You may need to maneuver slightly into their lanes so they can hear you shout.

Sign on a rear window: "Keep your Distance-- Lawyer in Car"