Well, folks, it is the year 2023. I am not sure how that happened. Remember how nervous people were before the year 2000? Y2K? What is Y2K? I don’t even know what it stands for. Should I? Weren’t all the computers going to go down, and the world was going to come to an end? If I recall correctly, New Year’s Eve was on a Friday night that year, and I had a bunch of families over for dinner because all our children were friendly and I didn’t want to be alone when the world came to an end, even though we all had little kids and there was no way any of us were going to be up at midnight.
Turns out, the world didn’t end, everyone’s computers were fine, and I don’t think we have anything to do with any of those families anymore. Yup, that sounds like me. Honestly, I only have a vague recollection of who was at my house that night. It is quite possible that I am still friendly with some of those people. I am lucky if I remember what day it is, let alone who I had over for dinner 23 years ago.
Even though my Oreos do not believe in the secular changing of the year, and even though I didn’t even stay up to wish Husband #1 a happy new year, I still see a lot of validity in it. I truly believe that you can celebrate both the secular and the Jewish new year. Especially when you don’t even know what Jewish year it is.
Yes, I am a terrible Oreo mom. I am not so good with the Hebrew dates. In fact, the only Hebrew date I do know is my dad’s yahrzeit. My boys’ Hebrew birthdays are on a kiddush cup that looks like the Stanley Cup that I wrote about a few years ago, when the wonderful man who had made the kiddush cup passed away. Once a year, when filling out school forms, I would look at the cup to find out the Hebrew dates of my kids’ birthdays. Yes, as I just said, I am a terrible Oreo mom. But enough about 2023 and New Year’s Eve. I am happy that I still have a friend who can attest to the fact that I did celebrate the secular new year in a “cooler” way than watching Gilmore Girls and falling asleep before 11:30 p.m. Good times, people, good times.
Anyway, I had wanted this column to be a Part 2 to the very interesting column I wrote last week about my fabulous ski vacation in Florida. Just kidding, it wasn’t that cold, and truth be told, I don’t know how to ski. Florida, in Jew-terms, is known for its fabulous kosher restaurants. From what I have heard, people make reservations at some of these places weeks before they are due to arrive in the Sunshine State. Husband #1 and I are not like that, which is surprising considering how often I write about my love of food. Husband #1 is a simple man who enjoys simple food, like the kind they serve in various institutions — prisons, nursing homes, etc. He doesn’t care about aged, smoked, Harvard-educated steaks with freeze-dried arugula and fresh kale imported from Ireland (is that a thing?) or sushi made with whatever sushi is made with. Unless it is made with Star-Kist tuna fish and mayo on a bagel with lettuce only, he isn’t eating it.
When we went with Son #3 a few years ago, our plan was for Husband #1 and Son #3 to go to synagogue for the evening prayer and then we would walk up and down Collins Avenue to see what restaurant looked empty. The plan actually worked well, because who wants chicken nuggets and fries when they could be having a Harvard-educated steak? This time, it was just the two of us, and it was still considered the off-season, because when you get old and no longer have kids in school, vacation is when you say it is, not when the school tells you it is. We actually made reservations at a restaurant that was not crowded when we got there, but we felt very important anyway. The food was pretty good, and the check didn’t force us to sell any organs. Of course, Husband #1 will not let me tell you what we did for the other meals — but it did involve pre-packaged deli and a loaf of rye bread (with no seeds, of course).
But it’s not what you eat, it’s who you eat it with. Wishing all of you a healthy, happy 2023 filled with good food and good people to share that food with!
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck got to spend New Year’s with Strudel. She, of course, did not watch Gilmore Girls, because she was sleeping.