Every once in a while I like to do a little something to remind myself that I’m still a Jew. Something a little more involved than just wearing my stunning chai* (not to be confused with stunning yourself by wearing chai, the now trendy beverage). So last night I went to a shindig that was a combination talk/book signing/party for a very lovely and talented Jewish boy whose new book involves Judaism.
Of course there was food, including big warm knishes. Not the best I’ve ever had, but probably the biggest. (Biggest does not equal best in this instance. Or in many others. Trust me.) They were individually wrapped in foil and placed on one of the tables like so many precious gifts. They were as much of a hit as the author was.
The best part of the evening, other than hanging out with some truly fascinating people and laughing like a demented seal with one in particular, was being served mini-knaidlach* by gentiles. “Where did all of yiz come from, anyways?” I was asked. “Planet Jew-piter or somethin’?”
A good time was had by all. And some good hummus as well.
*Pronounced here with a throaty “ch”. (Pretend you’re clearing your throat.)