Posted 22 September 2006on:
Shanah Tovah is the customary greeting wishing someone a good year. It is a shortened form of Shanah Tovah Tichtavu V’Tichtamu which means “may you be inscribed and sealed for a good year.”
This weekend, starting Friday evening, the Jewish people will be celebrating the Jewish New Year… it will be the year 5767. If you would like to know more, there is a link on the right called My Religion … be my guest. For my fellow Jewish bloggers, I wish you and your loved ones a happy, healthy, sweet and peaceful year.
Since most of the Ravens have flown the nest, I have kinda lost my culinary skills… well let’s say they have lain dormant for a while. I told Rachel, who has not flown the nest yet, that maybe I would buy in cakes and deserts this year. Well, I bet you heard the shriek from where you are.
So I have come home early from work and the kitchen smells wonderful… reminiscent of days when we were one big happy family.
Tradition, you know, it’s a Jewish thing… so my fluffy apple cake is cooling by the window, the fruit cake is just out the oven and my honey cakes have just gone in… three of them. Jamie will take one to work for his colleagues and I like to break the fast with it… more of that next week.
Shows how long since I baked… I went to remove the beaters and pressed the turbo button instead of the release button and I hadn’t unplugged it! What a mess… up the walls, in my hair, down my boobs… I’m wearing a little T-shirt… it’s hot in here!
The kichel dough is in the fridge…. I’ll bake those tomorrow. The chicken soup is simmering and I’m… exhausted, but I’ve kinda got a sense of satisfaction. Now I need to polish the silver candlesticks and that’s my lot for today. Tomorrow I have got tons to do… the knaidlech, the tzimmes, the red cabbage, etc. etc. etc.
I tend not to cook so much now as I never know when anyone will be home and also I enjoy my own food too much and it shows. Nothing used to give me greater pleasure than all of us sitting round the table together sharing dinner every day. I guess I am a typical Jewish mama.
I am chatting on-line, as I write this post, to my niece in New York who won’t be here… I miss her so much. She is beautiful, a photographer and great fun… just one year older than Rachel. And, of course I miss the Israel lot and my father.
My brother and his family will be with us on Saturday, but I’m upset my mother chose to stay with a friend. She will stay with me next week for Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. She particularly wants to be with me then as it is the first anniversary of the death of my father. I may talk about it a little more next week.
I have a little quiz for you all… except Finn who has met me, so no cheating. Jamie took a half fairly decent photo of me and Moriah… most pics of me get deleted or torn up and destroyed; I have a very strict quality control policy and I am no looker, that’s for sure. Before I post it… or maybe I’ll just email it… oh and he hasn’t sent it to my computer yet… I would love to know how you perceive me… you can say what you like… also guess my age if you want. Only *Bobby* knows that and I pray he’s forgotten… so no cheating there either…. anyway I lie.
I shall be spending the New Year with family and friends and my heartfelt prayers for the coming year is that everyone, the whole world, will be blessed and live in peace and harmony with their neighbours.
Shabbat Shalom, Shanah Tovah U’Matuka and a wonderful weekend.
P.S. It is now 5.30 p.m. on Friday…. the festival starts here in just over one hour and I have just finished cooking…. phew. Of course I had to, just had to, taste everything… yummy, yummy. My house is shining… bar the kitchen, which I am now going to attack ruthlessly, then I shall set the table, then light the candles and sit down and relax…
P.P.S Vincent, if you’re got nothing better to do, you’re invited too. It won’t be like your mama’s Italian cooking… this is Haimashe. My honey cake is to die for and everyone says my deserts are like heaven on a plate. Since you obviously didn’t like my letters and since I know you couldn’t fancy me baked… I guess there is only one way left. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…