"I'm a Jew, a lonely Jew-I'd be merry but I'm Hebrew-on Chrissssssssstmasssssssss..."
        -Kyle Broflovski, South Park

This won't make me popular in some neurotic circles, but my Hebrew name means "The Bringer of Light" so I am going to illuminate the obvious for you: Hanukkah is bullshit and Christmas is awesome. When it comes to winter holiday enchantment, our Festival of Lights doesn't hold a candle to the Festival of Christ.  There are many reasons why Christmas kicks the royal tar out of Hanukkah, but I didn't fully comprehend them until a few years ago. Unlike many Jewish kids who pine to celebrate the yuletide, I was never ashamed of Hanukkah-I actually took pride in our lackluster, knockoff celebration-and thus remained woefully ignorant of Christmas's manifest superiority. My gentile classmates got to make cookies shaped like trees and Santa hats, but I busied myself in the back of the room with an activity book of Hanukkah-themed crosswords, mazes and connect-the-dots. As the only Jew in my class, growing up in Alaska, I was special! I got to do my own thing! I didn't need Christmas!

(Fun Fact: There are not many Jews in Alaska, mostly because Sarah Palin hunts us from her helicopter.)

The bells and whistles of Christmas seemed worthless because I had menorahs, dreidels, latkes and gelt-chocolate coins that Jews use to teach our young children about the glories of compound interest-to occupy my time; they were just as good, right? (Correct Answer: no, they were not.) As the years passed, I evolved from a child to a college student-my central vice evolved from toys to liquor, although my behavior was still "childish" according to various ignorant females-and Hanukkah became more of a joyless obligation: a holiday marked with a shrug instead of celebratory anticipation. It existed, much like homeless people and God, but was not something I bothered to think about, if I could help it, much like homeless people and God. And then my shikse girlfriend's parents invited me to celebrate Christmas in New England, which changed everything.

At first I nervously turned down their request; I would feel like I were visiting a foreign country without any knowledge of the local customs, such as how to open an advent calendar, or the best way to sit on an old bearded man's lap as I tell him my deepest desires. (Just kidding, I was already familiar with the latter custom... intimately familiar.) My shikse's parents changed my mind, however, when they promised to stifle any discussion of Jesus the Super-Powered Baby, mostly because they are atheists. And guess what? Christmas is FUCKING AMAZING! My family never drank at Hanukkah-everyone knows that Jews can't drink-but Christmas is a friggin' booze-fueled bacchanalia: egg nog spiked with whiskey, apple cider flavored with rum (my girlfriend's grandmother's recipe-you rock my world, Nana!), and wine by the litre/megalitre/gigalitre/tetralitre/yottalitre. Yes, there is such a thing as a yottalitre, and it will get you fucked up.

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So as Chanukah winds down, I thought I'd address something that bothers me (and apparently Lilit Marcus, our editor around these parts), just a lil bit:

"Chrismukkah."

[sigh]

Yeah, I get it. Why have two separate consumeristic commercialized juggernauts when you can combine them not unlike the Voltron/Captain Planet/Power Ranger cartoons of yore?

Well, see...these two don't exactly play nice together. And I'm not just talking about the fact that one celebrates the miracle of overthrowing the Greek attempt to supplant Judaism versus a commeration of the birth of the dude who sparked a religion which attempt[ed]/[s]...to supplant Judaism...(Which is oxymoronic enough in itself.) No, I'm talking about the fact that one is kinda sorta directly responsible for the other, in a not fun kinda way.

So we all know the Chanukah story bit, right? Mattathias and his sons Judah, Jonathan, Simon, Eliezer, and, um, John. [John? Really? That's like "Bob the Maccabee."] Anyhoo, they kick out the Greeks, restore the Temple, find some Energy-Save oil and Yay Judaism!..but then AFTER that? Well, Jonathan becomes High Priest, which upsets the usual priestly family and their followers. Also, these followers have decided that Judaism has gotten a bit too lax, so they develop this system of strict purity rules and abandon the lunar calendar for the solar one. They try to convince Jonathan to follow and promote this new version of Judaism to which he says no and pretty much declares war on them and their leader, the mysterious "Teacher of Righteousness."

Long story short, this little sect group decides to go off to themselves and follow this "New Covenant" they've created, and when their leader the "Teacher of Righteousness" dies, they begin to preach that he will come back from the dead to finish his work and shortly after that the world will end.

Sound like anyone we know? Yep. Except this is a good 150 or so years before our good buddy JC even comes on the scene. Interestingly enough though, his parents [as well as that John the Baptist dude] were all a part of this little sect, usually known as the "Essenses." Apparently once J comes around, they realize this whole "Teacher of Righteousness" deal isn't really lucrative, so they decide to just repackage it, select everything in the "Teacher of Righteousness" cell [New Covenant, Resurrection, and all], press Ctrl+C, and then Ctrl +V on JC.

[And on a random sidenote: the weird solar/lunar calendar switch explains some of the loopy things in the New Testament timelines. (Yes, the "Last Supper" was a Seder service. But no, it didn't take place during Pesach, seeing as how people were laying down palm branches, which means it was actually around Sukkot.) Because, as we all know, solar and lunar dates rarely meet up exactly. And especially not after 150 years.]

So essentially Chanukah is the Jewish celebration of the beginning of the chain of events which leads to the birth of a religion that'll spend a good 2000 years persecuting us, the Savior of which is "born" on Christmas. [Even though he was really born in the spring.] Celebrating these two holidays together makes as much sense as celebrating "BatmanJoker Day." Or some real world equivalent that makes more sense.

Anyway, chag chanukah sameach.

In the second installment of his new cooking video series here on Jewcy, JDub's Director of Events Adam Teeter shows you how to make delicious latkes - one batch out of traditional potatoes, and the other out of zucchini and squash. This post includes special cameos from The Macaroons and, of course, Hanukkah Harry.

 

 

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Another holiday season has arrived and, to tell you the truth, I'm not too thrilled. Why, you ask? Simple. I'm Jewish. Most of the year I'm perfectly happy to be a card-carrying member of "The Chosen Ones" - we have everyone from Mel Brooks to Ben Stiller on our team - but this is the one time of year when I wish I were Christian. Why? Because, compared to Christmas, Hanukkah, which starts tonight, just doesn't "hold a candle."
It's like Christmas is the pretty, popular, prom-queen and Hanukkah is her nerdy, friendless, can't-get-a-boyfriend-because-her-nose-always-runs little sister.

To illustrate my point, I've come up with a few comparisons of both holidays. For starters, when was the last time you were at Macy's for the Day After Hanukkah Sale? That's what I thought. Here goes:

Rituals
Christmas has its very own tree: The majestic Evergreen. Proudly displayed as an elegant addition to any living room, the fragrant tree is strewn with multi-colored lights, glittering tinsel, candy, and collectible ornaments, then finished with a shining star or winged angel. Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, has The Menorah. After lighting the candles, there's a good chance you'll wake the next morning to find eight little piles of dried wax covering your countertop or dripping down into your stove's burners.

Traditions
Christmas has mistletoe: How great a tradition is this? You get to plant one on your hot cousin from Pittsburgh! Hanukkah has no similar tradition, so I propose we Jews hang a piece of Gefilte fish from the ceiling in order to achieve similar results (remember to take it down right after the party or you'll need to move).

Food
The centerpiece of a Christmas dinner is usually a lovely, juicy, honeybaked ham or freshly-basted turkey, served piping hot from the oven. The centerpiece of a Hanukkah dinner is the latke. McDonald's serves
them every day with Egg McMuffins.

Drinks
Christmas has Egg Nog. It's Saint Nick's version of Red Bull - a sweet, creamy, sugar rush combined with an alcohol buzz. Need I say more? Hanukkah has Manischewitz. Need I say more?

Songs
On Christmas, you can sing along with gems like "White Christmas," "The Christmas Song," "Silver Bells," and "Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer." Songs written by Jews who were obviously so enamored with what the other holiday had to offer they switched sides. On Hanukkah, we get to sing "Dreidel" while spinning a plastic top for fun. Please. I'd rather watch a "Jon and Kate" marathon with electrodes strapped to my nether regions.

Programming
Christmas has all those great CBS classics - "Frosty the Snowman," "Rudolph," "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town," etc. Hanukkah is so boring it doesn't even qualify for it's own claymation special. Is it too much to ask for "A Charlie Brown Hanukkah?" We could show it on the Food Network. Treats Christmas has the Candy Cane - a beautiful, multi-colored, striped confection which leaves your breath nice and minty for the all-important office party mistletoe. Then, there's the ever-popular Hanukkah Gelt - These thin, round, pieces of chocolate "coins" are sold in fishing nets (I imagine to honor history's great Jewish Bassmasters). Just what we need. Money that melts.

Spelling
Lastly, is it too much to ask of my people that we agree on one, single, universal spelling of our second-class holiday? Hanukah, Hanukkah, Chanukah? Can we take a vote or something? Don't get me wrong. There are lots of benefits to being a Jew: We control the media, the World Bank, and we make a mean pastrami sandwich. But when December rolls around, some of us "Chosen Ones" would like to feel a little "Goy Pride," too. Happy Holidays everyone.

The ancient Greeks borrowed from the Hebrew by turning aleph and bet (the first two letters of the Hebrew alphabet, respectively) into alpha and beta, which is where the English word originates. Centuries later, Jews would repay the compliment by appropriating the Greek word geometry and creating the word gematria, which is Hebrew for “numerology.” The concept of gematria is quite simple: each Hebrew letter is assigned a number so that alef = 1, bet = 2, gimel (the third letter of the Hebrew alphabet) = 3, and so on. Through these associations, Rabbis and scholars have been able to find DaVinci-like symbolism and meaning in the words of the Torah, which often create fascinating connections between two stories, two people, or even two events sometimes separated by thousands of years or more.

The gematria 25 serves as a perfect example. Traditionally, we’re taught that Chanukah begins on the 25th of the Jewish month of Kislev because that’s the day the Maccabees reclaimed and rededicated the Temple after defeating King Antiochus’ Syrian army. The word Chanukah means “dedication.” But looking at the word through gematrian-glasses, we can split it into two words, Chanu, which means "they rested" and kah, which is comprised of the Hebrew letters, kaf and hay. The numerical equivalent of kaf = 20, while hay = 5, giving us a sum of 25. So another translation of Chanukah might be “On the 25th of Kislev they rested from their enemies.”

And there are more.

The 25th word in the Torah is ohr, which means “light,” as in, “Let there be light.” What is Chanukah if not a festival of lights? And in the appropriately gematrian-titled book, Numbers, you’ll find a list of places the Jews camped in the desert on their way out of Egypt. The 25th place listed is Hashmonah.

This should ring a bell as the Macabees were also called the Hasmonaim, part of the Hasmonean dynasty.While it may be that these numerical connections are nothing more than coincidence and projection, certainly gematria adds interesting commentary to an already rich historical tapestry dotted with inspirational symbolism… and not only for Jews, if we consider another Biblical figure thought to have been born on the 25th of December, which, of course, sometimes falls on the 25th of Kislev.

When you walk outside in my neighborhood, you can tell that there is a holiday coming; not because of the snow on the ground or the many versions of Silent Night playing on repeat in the malls. It isn't because of the glittery Santas hanging from lamp posts or the white lights draped on anything that will stand still. There are decorations, but they are subtle--menorahs line the street lamps and jelly doughnuts line the windows of storefronts, but the houses are decorated with nothing more than the usual orange trees. Songs hailing Judah Maccabee are lacking from the radio, but it is clear: Hanukkah is here.

Kids don't have school next week and there was even a talent show in my Ulpan this week, replete with juice and jelly doughnuts. (Ulpan is an intensive Hebrew school that draw Jews and non-Jews alike from every corner of the earth). No drunken holiday parties where you mistakenly kiss your co-worker and no secret Santa gift swaps. Honestly, the biggest difference between Hanukkah in the US and Hanukkah in Israel is the lack of Christmas. Christmas of course still takes place here. Moreover, it is celebrated in the spots that matter, Bethlehem and Nazareth to name a few, but both holidays are celebrated out of respect for their roots...and the jelly doughnuts.

Growing up in Northern Virginia, my brother and I were the only Jews in our elementary school. When Hanukkah came around, we felt pretty left out. It's not like we were watching all the non-Jews and their candy canes from afar, but Christmas pretty much overwhelmed the senses from October through January and left my brother and I wondering why Judah and Christ weren't on the same level. My mom made an appearance in our school every year around the middle of December. She brought plastic dreidels, jelly doughnuts and gelt. She taught our classes how to play "dreidel" and each year showed us how to make hannukiot from celery, peanut butter and pretzels. She gave Hanukkah a good name.

As the years went by, more and more Hanukkah songs made it into the winter assemblies and as my brother and I got older, we gained more allies in the Hanukkah department. It was a big year in our house when we bought an electric menorah to put in our window. We lived in a neighborhood of non-Jews and many were not terribly pleased that we were there. The electronic menorah was my parents' version of public Judaism.

So, back to Israel. Hanukkah is not Christmas--not in the United States and not in Israel. Hanukkah celebrates the amazing miracle of oil lasting for eight days. It's a great excuse for Israelis to eat foods laden in oil and spend more time than usual with their families, but life basically proceeds as normal. When looked at side by side, the Hanukkah miracle in no way compares with leading the Jews out of Egypt and through the desert to reach the Promised Land. The latter equals no school AND no work.

Despite having to work, Israelis do have some fun with Hanukkah. Jelly doughnuts and latkes are everywhere but it is the bakeries that are the real show. Smells of everything from dulce de leche to hot chocolate to the traditional jam filled sufganiot invade your nose, and all will folds in the face of frosted goodness. There is no doubt--Israelis pride themselves in their doughnuts.  Some people take trips, some revel in knowing that latkes can suffice as dinner for eight nights in a row. Most gather for dinners and lighting the menorah. Our family isn't giving gifts this year, thankful instead for health, happiness and love.

Next year in Jerusalem. Oh wait, wrong holiday.

"I just wanna melt away in all Its grace, drift away to that sacred place where there's no more you and me, no more they and we, just unity." - From "Unity," written by Trevor Hall and Matisyahu

Does Matisyahu dislike Jewish musicians?  That was my suspicion recently when I saw an ad for the singer's Festival of Light performances in New York City, which started on December 10 and continue (with breaks for Shabbos) until December 20. Inventively, Matisyahu has a different opening act on each of the eight performances: Glitch Mob, John Brown's Body, Dub Trio, Brothers Past, Rana, Kid Koala, Travis McCoy, and Kevin Devine, a mixture of reggae bands, rappers, and earnest singer/songwriters.

All of these acts--with the exception of McCoy, who is the singer in Gym Class Heroes and also works with Fall Out Boy, Cobra Starship and Pink, and dated Katy Perry--are relative outsiders in the music business, lacking the headliner's major-label support or platinum sales. And also, none of these acts is Jewish, as far as can be easily ascertained.   Matisyahu is in a unique position: He's not the biggest Jewish musician in the world, but he is certainly the biggest Jewish-identified musician in the last 50 years. We might divine Jewish sentiments or perspectives in Paul Simon's music, or recognize the Jewish references in Leonard Cohen's songs, but those are only facets of the performers' fully-assimilated identities. Matisyahu's musical identity begins with his Jewishness: He performs using a Hebrew name (a variation on his birth name, Matthew Miller) and both lives and performs as a Hasid, wearing traditional garb and declining to perform on Friday nights, when many musicians can command their largest fees. Financially, being in a band and not performing on Friday nights is kind of like owning a bar and closing it on Friday nights.

As recently as ten years ago, "Jewish music" usually meant ancient prayers set to homespun melodies and sung earnestly, accompanied by finger-picked guitar. It was about as fun as Hebrew school. Then came our current Jewish Musical Renaissance, with bands mixing klezmer, rock, jazz, punk, and cabaret, and adding witty or provocative lyrics in the tongue of the diaspora. (Some of this music is recorded and released by JDub Records, the label that issued Matisyahu's first three albums; JDub also now owns Jewcy.) Anyone who has been paying attention could have recommended some of these bands to Matisyahu, who would have found excellent, well-suited opening acts among them.

Let's not forget the specific circumstances here: This is the most commercially preeminent Jewish artist of our era celebrating a Jewish holiday in the very-Jewish Manhattan and Brooklyn, without any Jewish opening acts. Maybe an analogy will help illustrate my dismay: It's as if Stevie Wonder or Marvin Gaye, at the height of black consciousness in, say, 1969, had gone on tour with Simon & Garfunkel opening the shows.

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Bubbe Wendy's Hanukkah Latkes (Fancy Wendy's Hash Browns)
by Erik of Fancy Fast Food, with assistance and a little bit of hand modeling from me

Hey everybody, it's Hanukkah! It's Chanuka! No matter how you spell it, it's time for the Jewish festival of lights -- eight crazy nights of dreidels gone wild, a time when latkes are as abundant as old yentas around a mahjongg table. But you don't need to be Jewish to partake in Hanukkah traditions, particularly the gastronomic treat of latkes (or lattkes). No matter how you spell it, "latkes" is Yiddish for fried pancakes, typically of the potato variety -- making it oddly similar to McDonald's hash browns. However, Bubbe Wendy has guilted us into using her Fancy Fast Food recipe ("If you just want to use McDonald's hash browns, then I guess that's fine by me..."), so here goes. Oy...

Ingredients (from Wendy's):

• 8 orders of hash browns (for the eight nights of Hannukah)
• 2 baked potatoes (with packets of sour cream and "Buttery-Best Spread")
• 2 orders of mandarin oranges
• 1 small soft drink
• 1 bottle of water
• packets of Sweet & Sour Sauce
• packets of sugar
• packets of salt and pepper
• a pinch of Jewish guilt (may be substituted with Catholic guilt)
• organic chives (for garnish and a touch of irony)

Latkes are traditionally served with apple sauce or sour cream. We already have the latter, so we're going to have to make the apple sauce. Unfortunately, Wendy's sells no apple products whatsoever, so we'll have to get creative.

What are apples? They are a kind of fruit that are sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, and so naturally we will start with Sweet & Sour Sauce. To add a fruity pulp to it, we'll add the mandarin oranges -- but that's fine; Bubbe Wendy moved down to Boca.

Put the manadrin oranges in a food processor and purée them, then strain out the extraneous juice. Mix this pulp in a bowl with the Sweet & Sour Sauce. The color is a bit intense to look like real apple sauce, so scoop out some baked potato (minus any chives) and mix it in -- the French call potatoes "pommes de terre" (apples of earth) so we'll go with it. Mush and whisk it all until it sort of looks like apple sauce; add sugar until it's as sweet.

Next, the latkes themselves. Take all the mini hash brown nuggets and mush them with your hands. Touching them, you'll realize they are all too greasy for things to stick together, so we'll need to make a batter to work as a binding agent.

Put one baked potato, minus the skin, into a food processor and add about a quarter cup of water. Hit purée and voilà: batter! Add this potato batter to your pile of hash browns and mix thoroughly in a bowl. Add salt and pepper as desired.

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Uncertain about what to get the special lady in your life for Hanukkah? Are you worried that candy and flowers aren't original enough? Well, CBS, the channel that brings you such delightful fare as Two and a Half Men and Survivor, thinks you should get your ladyfriend an appointment for a pap smear.

Hey, look, women's health is important. But if my boyfriend took it upon himself to schedule my gynecological appointments, I'd think it was creepy and obsessive instead of romantic. Also, the phrase "pap schmear" is now haunting my nightmares. What is heard cannot be unheard.

 

 

 

 

[Thanks to Air America for the tip.]

 

Well, now that it's almost Hanukkah, I'm pretty sure most of us are going through a very similar (and strange) phenomena: you spend all fall lusting after a few choice tchotchkes, and when Hanukkah rolls around, you seem to get the exact opposite of what you lovingly scribbled onto your Holiday wish-lists. Not only that, this feels as if it happens EVERY year! It's like your out-of-touch Bubbe is somehow controlling the currents of gift-giving, and you are trapped in a never ending vortex of scratchy wool sweaters and socks.

Rest easy, because that ends here. Below, I've included 2 very important lists: the top 10 gifts you want, and the top 10 gifts you get instead. Hear that, Bubbe? Take notes.

THE TOP 10 GIFTS YOU WANT:

• 10. Let's start with some Judaica, after all, it is Hanukkah. Check this Menorah Cork, an easy way to turn any bottle of wine into a way to celebrate the season. Order it from ModernTribe for only $14!

 

 

• 9. Don't let the name fool you: Stories for Children by Isaac Bashevis Singer is most definitely not for children. This book of short stories is biting, racy and ghoulish, and I distinctly remember reading it as a child and wondering why my parents would even let me peek at the thing! Sure, there are plenty of Jewish authors releasing new fiction for both adults and children, but why not take the time to familiarize yourself with the real thing? Amazon has it for as low as $6.98.

 

 

• 8. Luxury retailer Proenza Schouler has a new exclusive online store, and somehow, against the laws of nature, the items currently being featured are pretty affordable for a designer shop. I have my eye on this buttery-looking evergreen wallet, priced at a just-OK $165.

 

 

• 7. American designer Steven Alan's "don't go out without a sweater"-sweater is a lot more handsome than what you got from your Aunt Fraide last Hanukkah, and since Alan generally uses rich fabrics, I doubt it'll itch as much either. I especially like this grey chunky knit sweater for men.

 

 

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I'm really jazzed to post this new vid by my pal Smooth E. If you're in the L.A. area for the first night of Chanukah, be sure to come out to A Cow Jumped Over the Moon in Beverly Hills as JconnectLA, Jewlicious, Brandeis Collegiate Institute and Birthright Next present the official Smooth E Honika Electronica concert, also featuring Diwon, SoulSpeak, DJ Eric Rosen and Cajami. Proceeds go to the Federation's Fed Up With Hunger initiative. Meanwhile, turn up the speakers for this new, epic win vid below...

 

It's that time of year again. Stores are playing Christmas music on a nonstop loop, there are tree-sellers on every corner, and the Jews are grumpy about only getting a tiny amount of Hanukkah stuff in the holiday aisle at the local craft shop. I'm no Grinch, but there's one thing about the holiday season that really makes me crazy. It's not the 17,000 different versions of "Jingle Bells" or the TV networks being hijacked by shmaltzy feel-good movies. No, it's one word: Chrismukkah.

Here's the thing. I grew up in an interfaith home. We celebrated Hanukkah and Christmas every year. There was a menorah and a Christmas tree, stockings and gelt. However, we did not make any attempt to shove the two holidays into one easily digestible, meaningless lump. Sometimes they were three entire weeks apart and didn't overlap at all, thus highlighting the fact that they were distinguishable from each other. I liked learning about both sides of my heritage. Besides - why combine the two holidays into one if it means you get fewer presents?

The reason Chrismukkah bothers me is that it wasn't something interfaith families came up with on their own, it was something created by TV executives and marketers in an attempt not to fill a genuine societal need but to sell products to an emerging percentage of the population. Most people who have heard of Chrismukkah know it from the (now-cancelled) TV show The OC, where Adam Brody played Seth Cohen, the son of a Jewish father and Christian mother. Chrismukkah was, like many things on that show (I mean you, "Califoooooooornia" theme song), cute for about five minutes. But after a few too many Santa hat kippot and Star-of-David-printed stockings, it got annoying. Rather than combining two things into something even better - chocolate and peanut butter, for example, or The Real World/Road Rules Challenge - Chrismukkah makes both holidays worse. It waters down both holidays into mindless kitsch and accessories. It takes the Christ out of Christmas and the Maccabees out of Hanukkah, to the benefit of neither holiday.

Chrismukkah is something that had potential to be funny or clever but instead got beaten into the ground by people eager to make it "trendy," and, more specifically, make money off of it. After all, if Christmas is the biggest shopping season of the year, imagine what would happen if you combined Christmas with another holiday? Talk about a publicist's wet dream. Not only can they send their "please include us in your gift guide!!1!" emails to all the Christians, now they can send their Chrismukkah pitches to Christians and Jews.

Well, here's an unsolicited piece of advice: stop sending me any email that contains the word "Chrismukkah" in the title. Currently, I delete all of them without opening them, although I occasionally open one just to make fun of it. Between Administrative Professionals' Day and Valentine's Day, I have enough manufactured holidays to observe. My calendar - and my inbox - are full. At least until PurEasterOver.

If there's anything a Jew knows how to do, it's embrace a moneymaking opportunity. Even if it does involve selling schmaltz to the goyim.

10. Phil Spector - A Christmas Gift to You from Phil Spector
Maybe Phil knew he was gonna ultimately break one of the 10 commandments (read: MURDER), so just in case he was playing for the wrong team, he'd make an album for good old JC too. It's this alone that earns him a spot to open the list.

9. Neil Diamond - A Cherry Cherry Christmas
WOW Jewish Elvis, A Cherry Cherry Christmas? Seriously? Is it supposed to be Christmas with you and George Washington? This earns you spot #9.

8. Harry Connick Jr. - When My Heart Finds Christmas
That silky croon will get him into anybody's top 10 list. Plus this video pushed him from 10 to 8. Give that man an Oscar.

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There are a lot of Hanukkah songs out there, from "I Had a Little Dreidel" to Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song." Most of these songs stick with the basics - candles, presents, family, potato pancakes. However, the singer Chevonne has decided to make Hanukkah sexy. Specifically, she makes sex puns about holiday accoutrements. (Sample lyrics include "I'll hot oil you up and dance like a whore-a" and "Just like my menorah/you light me up for eight days at a time." Eight days? Sex is awesome, but that shit just sounds painful.)

If Sheena Easton had been a member of the tribe, she might have recorded this as a single.

 

 

The world's first diamond dreidel

“Oh, Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made it out of…precious stones?”

Finally, our connections in the diamond district have paid off in ways other than discounted engagement rings. Introducing the Jewish equivalent to the Victoria’s Secret million dollar bra, the diamond dreidel. This toy turned collector’s item from Mervis Diamond Importers gives a whole new meaning to holiday “gelt,” and in this recession, could not have come at a more appropriate time. Mervis claims this is the world’s first diamond dreidel, an almost one of a kind luxury that will cost you a pretty penny - $1,800 to be exact. While as Jews we may be saddened that this piece is not as edible as its chocolate gelt counterpart, its quality is sure to make up for its being made out of inedible, top-quality metal.

Let’s get to the specifics. The diamond dreidel features .96 carats hand-set in platinum and the diamonds are graded top-notch in both color and clarity. The stunning gleam of the stones is sure to appease anyone who sadly rolls a “nun” and is forced to put all their gelt back in the pot. On the other hand, for those who win the game of dreidel with this piece, you’re sure to feel like a Vegas high-roller. Pick up one of these to feel like you’re celebrating with the Trump-Kushner clan this Hannukah – but, be sure to order yours by December 9^th to ensure it arrives on time for the holiday. Who knows? Maybe by next year you’ll see this puppy being rolled in high-end casinos across the globe – who needs penny slots when you can win the big bucks by rolling a “gimmel?”

Holiday accommodations span far wider than hotels and motels.

Whether a host, guest, family member, friend, neighbor, colleague, or otherwise, the holidays are a time when we are all brought together under many circumstances, and required to deal with each other in ways unlike most other days. It brings out the best and worst in everyone. For me, it often feels like these decisions define me. I have always struggled in balancing truth with tact, and tend to be either far too blunt and direct or completely spineless. And of course I also struggle with wanting so very much to accommodate without compromising my principles or even identity.

An example from my own experience. One Passover, a couple showed up, stoned, and presented me with a cake. Not exactly the Elijah I was expecting. And this was a real, Italian bakery, flour and butter laden, gorgeous cake. I had no idea what to do. Part of me was humiliated, because they know I am observant. Part of me was terrified not to be a gracious host, or to spoil the otherwise wonderful occasion. Part of me (a really big part of me) wanted to slap them silly. So what did I do? I put it out on a non-Passover plate and kicked myself for the rest of the holiday. Not my greatest moment.

There are other dilemmas. What do you serve for Thanksgiving? Do you send holiday cards? Do you attend Christmas parties or invite non-Jews to your Chanukah gatherings? Is a cookie exchange acceptable? Do you nibble on the catering at the company holiday party? I feel like November and December are fraught with these kind of decisions. And while the actual choices are very important, often the process and conversation are equally if not more significant. If you refuse that holiday ham, can you do it in a way that does not offend? How do you not break bread without breaking faith? What can you offer to mitigate your refusal?

I'd like to hear more of your stories. How do you accommodate for the holidays?

I imagine it's much more difficult to be a Jew on Christmas than it is to be a Christian during Hanukkah. You don't find many Hanukah specials about families getting stranded in an airport learning the true meaning of the menorah.

But if there were lots of Hanukkah specials, I'd be just as annoyed as I am at those about Christmas. I finally realized that I do not dislike most Christmas specials because they are about a holiday I do not celebrate - I dislike them because they're really, really cheesy. I love the original Grinch cartoon. The Peanuts specials are always fun, and Seinfeld's Festivus episode is a classic. A number of sit-coms have simply had funny events happen at Christmas parties, which is fine considering that the holiday is a part of our country's pop culture. But the shows that have people changing their lives based on the true meaning of Christmas really exasperate me.

I am a very spiritual person, and I have never changed my life based on the true meaning of a holiday. And let's just say that learning the true meaning of a holiday, sans bastardization, was actually possible. Would we want that lesson to come from ABC Family?

Any holiday is okay in small doses, but TV networks go absolutely nuts on Christmas. I am pretty patriotic, and generally a big fan of the whole America thing. But I wouldn't be able to accept a bunch of sitcoms telling me the true meaning of July 4th. Imagine the final two weeks of every June filled with TV characters ending episodes with an arm-in-arm chorus of "My Country Tis of Thee." Which they couldn't do because no one knows the second verse.

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I guess Jewish Metal is something that has always been a part of me.  The first album I ever bought was Twisted Sister's Stay Hungry, a schmaltzy collection of hard rock from one of Long Island's many amazing (and partially-Jewish) bands.  From the moment I was aware of music, Metal has been my calling.  I knew how to tweak the distortion settings on an amp before I knew about the birds and the bees.  Metal was the theme of my Bar Mitzvah (Metallica was the dais).  I had, and still keep, a running list of every prominent Jewish Metal musician.  But outside of knowing how much influence Jews have had on Metal, there really weren't any examples of truly "Jewish" Metal.  Not that I would want to hear a Jewish Stryper, but none of the melodies have reflected the traditional music we all grew up with.  Considering the wonderful intensity of the harmonic minor scale why have American Jews relied so heavily on Western European melodies and the Blues when writing Metal?  It would be easy to write 1,000 words about the commercial, cultural or political reasons, but what about the artistic reasons?

 
In high school, via John Zorn, I got really into Klezmer.  Seeing the electric version of Masada at the old Knitting Factory in the early 90s expanded my mind and caused me to really connect with Jewish music.  I started attending Klezmatics shows, picking up old recordings, and discovering a very accessible pathway to the soul of 20th Century Jewry.  However at this point I never intended to try to experiment with any of this myself.

After spending my college years playing in Indie Rock bands I joined the Metal band that has been so much of my identity for the last seven years, Gods of Fire.  Although the band is half Jewish, we never explored this in our music.  Our lyrical subject matter runs the traditional Metal gamut of dark magic, Greek mythology, Viking warriors and Necromancy.  Then the Major League Dreidel organization asked us if we would be interested in being the opening act for their 2008 Dreidel spinning tournament.  We had the idea to incorporate a Metal arrangement of "Hatikvah" I was once commissioned to record for a podcast as the intro to our concert, but this idea quickly expanded to ultimately performing an entire set of Metal-ized Jewish songs.  The success of the evening led to the idea of recording a full length album, Hanukkah Gone Metal.

The initial ideas flowed quickly.  It would be eight songs, one for each night.  We would keep our versions of "Oh Hanukkah" and "Havenu Shalom Aleichem," and write six songs of our own.  Each song would represent a significant part of the holiday.  Then the hard part started.  How do you stay true to your Metal roots while writing about gelt or frying up latkes?  Also what should the record sound like?  I wasn't comfortable staying exclusively in the realm of traditional Metal.  I knew we needed to do something special.  We were making a holiday record for *our* people and *our* culture.  And then I started humming some melodies I remembered from Shul.  I picked up the guitar and cranked up the distortion.  The sounds of the synagogue were PERFECT for Heavy Metal.  Then I made some calls.  I can get a clarinet player, and a trumpet player too!   Not only could I have a Klezmer feel on a few songs, but I can have the sounds as well!   Suddenly the vision and the sound came together quickly.  We were truly going to make a JEWISH METAL album.  One foot in each culture, co-existing peacefully.  Admittedly some of the songs are very American and conventional, but I hope the more Judaic songs could serve as a bridge to help someone else connect with their history, and learn more about Hanukkah or Klezmer.  I don't know if Gods of Fire will make another religious album, but the sounds and the melodies of our faith are here to stay.

 

Hanukkah Gone Metal can be purchased on iTunes or on CD here.

Attention Hebrews and Shebrews, now is your chance to shine the light of the Menorah...with music!

Special Passenger Records of Jackson, Mississippi is now taking songs for its first ever Hanukkah album. All styles and genres, from death metal to cheese-pop, lesbian indie folk to Dave Matthews emulators, are encouraged to send in songs for this kick-ass compilation.

The deadline is November 1, with the release set for December 3 in Jackson, MS (including a killer CD release party featuring yours truly).

For more information, contact Amanda at akrainey@gmail.com.

Last week, Janna Gur, author of The Book of New Israeli Food, posted some insightful and entertaining stories about her book.  In light of this week's holiday bonanza, Janna has graciously provided us with some of her new Israeli recipes to help spice up your meals. Enjoy, Jewcers!

Flame-Roasting Eggplants

Roasting eggplants on an open flame can be messy but is definitely worth the effort as the smoky aroma adds immensely to the taste.

First line your stovetop with aluminum foil. Place a whole eggplant (or more than one if you are confident) on a rack over the open flame and roast, turning occasionally, until the skin is scorched and blackened and the flesh feels soft when pierced with a wooden skewer or a fork. The eggplant can also be broiled in the oven, or grilled on a charcoal barbecue. Cool slightly  (to avoid burning your hands) and peel, carefully removing every last bit of scorched skin, or cut in half lengthwise and scoop out the flesh with a wooden spoon.

Ideally, roasted eggplant should be served shortly after roasting, and seasoned while still warm to ensure optimal absorption of every spicy nuance. But if you need to store it for later, drain the roasted flesh of excess liquid, cover with oil and refrigerate. Season before serving.

Eggplant and Tahini SaladRoasted Eggplant with Tahini

This classic combination always works. Use best quality tahini.

Add ½ cup raw tahini seasoned with 3-4 tablespoons lemon juice, 2 cloves crushed garlic, 2-3 tablespoons chopped parsley, a pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper to the flesh of two roasted eggplants. If the mixture is too thick, add water gradually and stir to desired texture. Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds or pine nuts before serving.

Roasted Eggplant with Pecans and Blue Cheese

This union of particularly strong flavors produces a delicious sandwich spread. Add about ½ cup crumbled blue (Roquefort style) cheese and ½ cup toasted chopped pecans to the flesh of two roasted eggplants.

Romanian-style Roasted Eggplant Salad

Don't be alarmed by the amount of oil. The eggplants love it, and so do the Romanians.

Add ½ cup oil (the Romanians insist on strongly flavored sunflower oil, preferably unrefined), at least 3 cloves crushed garlic, salt and freshly ground black pepper to the flesh of two roasted eggplants. You may also add two grated onions and/or two peeled, grated tomatoes. To keep the texture pleasantly palatable rather than muddy, mix the oil with the other ingredients by stirring gently with a wooden spoon. 

Last week, Janna Gur, author of The Book of New Israeli Food, posted some insightful and entertaining stories about her book.  In light of this week's holiday bonanza, Janna has graciously provided us with some of her new Israeli recipes to help spice up your meals. Enjoy, Jewcers!

Citrus Semolina Cake

Semolina cakes are found throughout the Middle East and are popular in Jewish Sephardic kitchens. Called basbousa, safra, tishpishti or revani, they can be filled with dates, garnished with almonds, and can even be made with ground walnuts instead of, or in addition to, semolina. These crumbly dry cakes are doused with syrup immediately after baking, making them moist and very sweet.

The following is a slightly unorthodox version that contains freshly squeezed orange (or tangerine) juice and citrus marmalade, and is prepared with separated eggs for a light fluffy texture.

Ingredients (for a 25x30 cm/10x12 inch baking pan):

Citrus Semolina CakeCake
6 eggs, separated
100 g (3½oz, 1/2 cup) sugar
100 g (3½oz, 1 cup) ground coconut
140 g (5 oz, 1 cup) sifted flour
270 g (10 oz, 2½ cups) semolina
25 g (1 oz, 1½ tablespoons) ground almonds
20 g (2 small sachets, 4 teaspoons) baking powder
240 ml (8½ fl oz, 1 cup) oil
360 ml (13 fl oz, 1½ cup) freshly squeezed orange or tangerine juice
2 teaspoons grated orange zest
240 ml (8½ fl oz, 1 cup) orange or lemon marmalade

Syrup
1 cup sugar
1 cup water
Crushed almonds or coconut flakes for garnish

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F).

2. Using an electric mixer beat the egg whites with the sugar for 8 minutes until they hold stiff peaks.

3. Combine all the dry ingredients in a bowl: coconut, flour, semolina, ground almonds and baking powder.

4. Beat the egg yolks in a separate bowl, gradually adding the oil, juice, orange zest and marmalade.

5. Stir in the dry ingredients slowly until combined well. Gently fold in the peaked egg whites.

6. Pour the batter into a well-greased pan and bake for 30 minutes, until the cake turns golden and a toothpick comes out dry with a few crumbs adhering.

7. While the cake is in the oven prepare the syrup: Bring the water and sugar to a boil and simmer for 20 minutes. Cool slightly.

8. Take the cake out of the oven and pour on the syrup evenly. Cool completely and garnish with almonds or coconut.

Last week, Janna Gur, author of The Book of New Israeli Food, posted some insightful and entertaining stories about her book.  In light of this week's holiday bonanza, Janna has graciously provided us with some of her new Israeli recipes to help spice up your meals. Enjoy, Jewcers!

Traditional Couscous Soup

This is the vegetarian version of the exotically fragrant Moroccan soup that is served with couscous. Use the same procedure to prepare couscous soup with chicken (see below)

Ingredients (serves 6-8):

1 cup chickpeas, soaked in cold water overnight, rinsed and drained
4 carrots, cut into 2-3 large chunks
4 medium potatoes, quartered
1 large onion, quartered
Salt and freshly ground white or black pepper to taste
Small pinch of saffron or 11/2 teaspoons turmeric
200 g (7 oz) pumpkin , cut into 4-5 large  chunks
4 courgettes (zucchini), cut into 3-4 large chunks
Half a green cabbage, quartered
4-5 stalks celery stalks, peeled and cut coarsely (save the leaves)
1/2 kg (1 lb 2 oz) instant couscous

Traditional Couscous Soup1. Put the chickpeas in a large saucepan, cover with water and cook for about 30 minutes. Drain, pour in 2 liters (2 quarts) of water (to prevent the soup from becoming cloudy later on), and cook for another 30 minutes, until the chickpeas are tender.

2. Add the carrots, potatoes and onion, season with salt, pepper, saffron or turmeric and cook for 45 minutes until the vegetables are tender.

3. Add the remaining vegetables (except the celery leaves) and cook for 15 minutes, until tender. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Add the celery leaves and cook for another 15 minutes.

4. Prepare the couscous according to the manufacturer's instructions.

5. Place a heap of couscous in a deep dish. Arrange the vegetables on top  and ladle the soup around and over the couscous.

Red Couscous Soup

When adding the pumpkin, cabbage and courgettes (zucchini), add one small can (300 g, 1012 oz) of tomatoes in tomato  paste and continue according to the recipe.

Spicy Couscous Soup

Add 1-2 tablespoons of filfel chuma (p. 296) or harissa (p. 298) towards the end of the cooking cycle.

Couscous Soup With Chicken

Add 6-8 chicken drumsticks for the last 30 minutes of the cooking cycle.

If you want to impress this Hanukkah, you've got to stay up on the trends. Here is some pre-Hannukkah internet reconnaissance for all you heebsters out there on what is in and what is out.

• In: Semi-ironic Hannukah-themed graphic tees. Urban Outfitters has taken its trendiness to a new level by marketing not one, but two (TWO!) Hannukah-inspired t-shirts. Then again, they are also single handedly trying to bring back the black mesh bodysuit, so we'll see how far this goes.

• Out: Celebrity-designed vegan footwear. Back in February, we let y'all know about Natalie Portman's line of cruelty-free, no-animals-included shoes. Now, less than one year later, we have to let you know that all that vegan accesorizing is over. According to E! Online, it isn't any fault of Natalie's, or of her brand, but rather the folding of its parent company, Té Casan. Damn you, economic crisis!

• In: Bacon-flavored makeouts. Buzzfeed has found us the perfect holiday item to keep in your purse, or to share with friends. Introducing: bacon mints! The perfect treify breath freshener for popping under your traditional Hannukkah mistletoe.

• In: Walruses with saxophones. Finally, one of the largest of animals are free to embrace the smallest of instruments. Not really Jewish, but we just couldn't resist!I'm Walking on Sunshine: Woah-oh!

For a time, Christmas felt like a kind of kryptonite, in all its various colors and effects. Christmas carols, lights, Santa Claus, and even the inexplicable Stollen, produced in me various levels of discomfort, confusion, and even a little misplaced nostalgia. I grew up a very secular Jew, and while we acknowledged that Christmas had come and gone, like most Jews we basically kept our heads down until it was all over. I watched the surreal animated puppets in Santa Claus is Coming to Town with the same hunger that any child watched the annual television show that let him stay up late. I once even sat on Santa’s lap in the mall. But even then I knew I was only a visitor in a foreign land. Santa was a Christian, and his workshop didn’t employ any Jews.

Who needs a crackling fire on Christmas: When you've got the glow of neon?Over the years I took on more Jewish observance, and surprisingly my relationship to Christmas changed, even deepened. I looked forward to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as moments to define myself against what I wasn’t. I sat in empty coffee shops, went to the movies with friends, and had Chinese food. The cold air and the deserted streets were glorious. I loved the lights in the trees and the darkened windows of the stores. Christmas meant lovely isolation and I felt deeply Jewish.

I would give my friends Christmas presents, but none of those people were really Christian. The obligation felt weird. If they didn’t believe Christ was really born on this day, why weren’t they all in Chinatown with me? My only devout Christian friend eschewed really owning anything. Whenever I gave him a gift he looked at it with the discomfort of a man struggling with a live fish He seemed to worry about it flopping on to the floor. I secretly hated his devout Christianity that was ruining Christmas. What else was I supposed to do for him on this day? There was no way I was going to eat Stollen.

Hanukkah, on the other hand, was always a letdown. The attempt to match Christmas in spirit seemed contrived. I would feel irritated when the local mall would put up the obligatory menorah next to the Christmas tree. I didn’t want Hanukkah to have to compete with Christmas. It couldn’t. What is winter without Christmas, without the blinking lights, without the giant plastic peppermint sticks covered in snow? Like this year, Hanukkah sometimes comes so early it doesn’t even feel like winter yet.

But then I married a gentile and everything changed.

My wife came from a family even more secular than my own. They never talk of God or Christ, and I have never heard them mention the Virgin Mary or the manger. But they celebrate with the fervor of postulants.

I grumbled my way through the first few years. I would read The Forward while they busied themselves with wrapping presents and keeping the fire going in the fireplace. I looked out of the corner of eye for any sign of a baby Jesus so I could leap up with an “Ah-Ha! I knew it!” Eventually Johnny Mathis and the smell of the tiny pine cones used in decorations got to me.

Take your holiday cheer: and stuff itWhat finally undid me, however, was the joy they took in giving. Stockings stuffed to overflowing, the old family photos lovingly framed, just the right sweater, all the perfect books. I would have called it out as obsessive consumption and ugly consumerism, but they always had wonderful things for me. (On Hanukkah, my non-Jewish friends always gave me “Jewish” things, as if Hanukkah presents are supposed to be about Hanukkah.)

As I began to embrace Christmas as part of my wife’s tradition I realized that Hanukkah was also special for me as a Jew. It’s just a coincidence that Hanukkah and Christmas fall around the same time of the year. My mistake was thinking that since Hanukkah is really a minor Jewish holiday and didn’t have anything about it that was distinctly seasonal, it wasn’t worth making a big deal about it. But Hanukkah is a Jewish day, and it marks, like so many other Jewish holidays, the sheer fortitude of the Jewish people. Over and over again we survive. Our lights keep burning, even when they are not as nearly as bright as my neighbor’s giant automaton reindeer.

And so for the last few years, Hanukah has been another time to mark being Jewish. In my home, we don’t celebrate the two holidays together, but go by where they land on the calendar. And secretly, I hope when I light the shamash and the first candle of the menorah that it will start to snow, and that it will be snowing all winter, especially when one year I take my family to Chinatown, and show them how Christmas is really done.

So Last WeekHanukkah has come and gone. And with eight days (weird!) left ‘til That Other Holiday, those of us who find ourselves unwilling or -able to pretend we’re gentiles had better get used to the fact that we’re going to be doing a helluva lot of smiling-and-nodding in response to well-intentioned but totally moot Hanukkah wishes in the coming days.

You know what I’m talking about: those exclamations of “Happy Holidays!” or “Merry Christmas!” that turn, with squeaky awareness, to “...or, uhhh...Happy Hanukkah?” when it dawns on the speaker that there’s a real, live Jew in the house.

They don’t know that Hanukkah’s over. They don’t care when Hanukkah is. Hell, I don’t care that much about when Hanukkah is, either. It’s like wishing folks a “Merry Christmas” the week after New Year’s. But at least Christmas is about something (kinda) religiously meaningful. So not even. “Happy Father’s Day," maybe? Happy Irish Independence Commemoration?

I Have ItWent to see Yo La Tengo last night on the seventh of their (what else?) eight nights of ever-so subtly subtitled “Hanukkahpaloozathon” shows at the fabulous Hoboken venue Maxwell’s.

And wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, the “special guests” on night seven were none other than The New Pornographers. I was like, Yo La Tengo, Dayenu! But The New Pornographers, too? At moments like these, gratitude can tend to take on a religious cast, proving yet again that slightly-ironic Jewish identification can be just as meaningful as irony-free Jewish identification!

Yo La Tengo has been doing these week-plus Hanukkah runs at Maxwell’s since 2001, and part of each night’s take is earmarked for a particular charity. Last night’s was for the African Services Committee, a non-profit providing aid to immigrants, refugees and asylees in New York from across the African Diaspora.

Check out YLT’s awesome tour diary, which contains nice deconstructions of each night’s show goings-on.

Booker Todd Abramson, a mensch of epic proportions, was overheard to say “And on the ninth night, I’m taking Ira [Kaplan, one-third of YLT] to see Neil Young.”

(There’s also a harmless little piece in New York Magazine about last Wednesday’s show -- aka Night Two -- the last line of which proves, once and for all: making a stab at “Jewish humor” if you know jack shit about Jewish? Not really a good idea.)

For some reason this year has produced a bumper crop of Hanukkah-themed CDs. Why? And are any of them any good? We got young adult novelist Matthue Roth to investigate. Check back all week for more reviews.

Hooked on Chanukah: My menorah is more fabulous than your menorah.Under consideration today:
Various artists, Hooked on Chanukah

Last night we had a Chanukah party. We didn’t plan on it being this way, but it turned into a marathon—from the family-first moments where my sister and cousin were there and we were setting up, to the first shift (parents with little kids), the second (the party kids—you know who you are), all the way till the end of the night, when it was just a few of us sitting around, drinking up the last of the mulled wine (Manischewitz, of course). My wife Itta put on the new CD we’d just gotten—Hooked on Chanukah, Sameach Music’s holiday comp and possibly the most true-to-Scriptures compilation, featuring songs like “Al Hanisim” and “Lichtalach” alongside standards like “Macabee” and, of course, the ubiquitous “Maoz Tzur.”

At first, it was oddly appropriate for the end of the night mood—jazzed, sort of bouncy, but mellow, just the right combination of laid-back harmonies, acoustic guitars and keyboards that you’d expect a CD with a neon yellow menorah on it to offer.

The real surprise came when Daniel, our downstairs neighbor—who, by the way, is half Filipino and half Chinese—began to belt out the generations-old Yiddish-tinged melodies. In Yiddish.

Daniel, it turns out, speaks more Yiddish than anyone else here (including, I would like to point out reproachfully, my Yiddish-educated wife, whose parents spoke in Yiddish when they didn’t want her to understand what they were saying. Yeah, way to pass on our people’s traditions). He started studying the language with a friend, half as a dare, half a way to fill up free time constructively. As a matter of fact, our first conversation was predicated on us comparing our apartments’ gas hookups and me seeing the Yiddish word “pripetchik” written out on it….

So, that was the end of our party. I’m cleaning up dishes, my wife’s moving chairs back into place, and Daniel is belting out “Lichtalach” in a voice usually reserved for particularly intense rounds of Rock Band. The salsa horns of “Yevanim” simmer in the background, fading into the Billy Joel-like piano of “There’s a Light”—except, not the version from Rocky Horror. Yes, as someone raised on secular music, I still find it slightly creepy that prepubescent boys are used to hit the high notes in songs—the “women’s parts,” if you will. But the music and the general air of party-ness on this compilation are good-natured and convivial. It almost makes you want to get hooked on Chanukah. Almost.