Monday, April 29, 2013

Food War

My friend and I are planning to go to Beatlefest in Holon this Wednesday evening because George Harrison's sister Louise will be there, as well as a Grammy-winning (so I hear) cover band called LiverpoolLegends.

Last night she called me up sounding very agitated,

"I checked and there are NO KOSHER RESTAURANTS IN HOLON." A true lament. But if there are kosher restaurants in Druse villages in the North of Israel, surely there must be a kosher falafel joint in the hood.

I checked under a different App and sure enough, found 34 kosher places, most of which probably sell crappy pizza and burgers with humous and all that. But I actually did find a kosher sushi place with good reviews in the local mall, and I know she'll be relieved when I tell her.

At least I have someone culturally similar to me to dine with. Lately, with my 2 youngest daughters getting married or about to be married, and as a result, all the additions to our family from North Africa and other parts of the Middle East, it has been quite a challenge.

My 3rd daughter married into a Moroccan/Iraqi/Kurdish-Persian family. The father is like Don Corleone. No one argues with him, or complains to him. Or else....

The Sabbath after the wedding we headed over to their house for a celebration - first in the synagogue, and then their home for a big lunch. Hubby and I thought, Hey! We rented a car. We haven't been to Tel Aviv in over a year. Let's finish off the celebration by just the 2 of us heading over to see the sunset over the Mediterranean. We began eating at 11:00. We figured the final course ended by 1:00, we could head off. Mr. Don Corleone sees us and says - "You're not going anywhere! We have Hamin! You have to stay for Hamin!" Do we argue? Of course not. At 2:00 pm, he serves me a plate with a large bone on it. "This you must eat. It's a foot." Shit. Now what do I do? I looked at hubby who just told me to be thankful we weren't being served bulls' testicles.

Next daughter's future in-laws invited us for the last days of Passover. They must have put 35 dishes on the table all at once. Nothing too spicy for us, but I couln't believe the amount of food. The hostess looked at me and said,

"I hear you buy organic vegetables. Hmph. It's too expensive. I go to the market and come back with half the market in my kitchen."

I can certainly see that. We must look pathetic to them with our one dish appetizer, one main course and 2 side dishes. But I was horrified to learn that they abhor left-overs. I saw her about to throw 1/2 a cake in the garbage and I shrieked! She looked at me like I was a homeless beggar lusting after her food.

"You want this?"

"Of course! I don't throw anything out, unless it's over 5 days old"

She shrugged. "If it's not eaten after 1 day, it goes in the garbage."

Hubby and I were horrified.

But there is a good side to all this. My daughter had wanted to live with us for a year after they got married. But just a couple of weeks ago, she said they decided to rent, even though it will be hard for him. And I know exactly why. Her future husband saw me cooking quinoa, tofu dishes and other healthy grains and beans, mostly vegetarian, and I think that scared the living daylights out of him.