JDub's Director of Events, Adam Teeter and his fiancee Naomi are planning their wedding - and their new life together. Naomi was raised in a kosher home, and so Adam has decided to learn to make some great kosher recipes. He's starting off with a very Thanksgiving-appropriate recipe: parve mashed potatoes. It's perfect to serve with turkey, and delicious to boot:

So I'm a new Jew. I was raised Roman Catholic by an Italian mother from North Jersey - I was fed pasta in lieu of formula. When it comes to the six main food groups, the three most important are pasta, bread, and macaroni & cheese.

In my journey to become better versed in Jewish practice, I've tried to reconcile a lot of ideas in my head. I was never raised particularly religious, so dropping the act of going through the motions in the Catholic Church was never a big deal to me. Getting into the habit of Friday night worship competing with plans made by those who pray on Sunday mornings has become manageable as well. I've learned lingo and proper behavior, I've learned a little Hebrew, and I've learned the best way to prove my dedication to Jewish culture. But some things have been harder than others.

Keeping kosher isn't something I feel I'm capable of adhering to just yet. I see it more as a twelve-step process. I grew up on Genoa salami sandwiches and live for summers at the shore where I can get a fabulous chicken cheese steak. I can't just give it all up cold turkey - all food puns aside. And so I've resigned myself to dealing with the idea of kosher in the future; I have other ideals to work on in the meantime.

Something I'm okay to start out with, however, is keeping kosher for Passover. It's only eight days - totally manageable, right? Except when you realize the only foods you eat are either chametz or kitniyot.

I breathe in bread. By virtue of growing up a picky eater, I was raised on a diet solely consisting of pasta, pizza, and macaroni & cheese. And by virtue of being a busy college student in a tiny dormitory kitchen, my default meals are as follows: pasta, rice, macaroni & cheese, rice & beans, gnocchi, breaded chicken, and the occasional black bean burrito. Seriously. I snack on crackers, pretzels, cookies, and goldfish. Nothing that I eat on a regular basis immediately strikes me as kosher for Passover, with the possible exception of chocolate pudding. Surely it can't be this hard for "normal" Jews.

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In Nashville, people are always asking me if I’m kosher. And even though I know it’s unhelpful and overly smartass to say, “No, humans are treyf,” I’m always tempted. So let’s get a few things straight about what it can mean to keep kosher, and how to ask someone what their policy is without pissing her off.

As I mentioned yesterday, asking someone if he keeps kosher is kind of meaningless, because there’s a broad spectrum that falls under the yes answer. Here are some of the most common ways people keep kosher, from the least to the most extreme:
Variety is the Spice of Life: but is it hechshered?
1. Avoiding eating nonkosher animals of any kind, such as pork and shellfish, and not eating milk and meat together—though not necessarily waiting any specific number of hours before switching from meat to milk. Owning one set of dishes, and eating meat regardless of its origins.

2. Only eating kosher meat, owning one set of dishes.

3. Owning two sets of dishes, and only eating kosher meat. Eating at restaurants that aren’t certified as kosher, ordering only dairy/vegetarian meals.

4. Same as 3, but only eating cold dairy dishes out (i.e. nothing cooked)

5. Owning two sets of dishes, and buying things that are kosher “by ingredients” meaning that they don’t contain any explicitly nonkosher ingredients such as gelatin, but aren’t certified as kosher. Eating hot dairy out.

6. Same as 5, but only eating cold dairy out.

7. Two sets of dishes, only buying products that are certified as kosher, but eating hot dairy at restaurants.

8. Same as 7 but only eating cold dairy out.

9. Two sets of dishes, only buying products that are certified as kosher, only eating at restaurants that are certified as kosher.

10. Only eating food that upholds strict standards of kashrut. Only eating Glatt meat, for instance, or only buying products with a specific certification on them, such as OU or CRC.

A person who observes any one of these levels would likely say that yes, he or she keeps kosher, even though the next person down on the line might disagree.

Besides creating lots of political divisions in terms of whose hechsher you hold by and whose you don’t, keeping kosher can be problematic when you are invited to someone else’s place and asked to bring something, or when you’re having people over. How do you tactfully ask if your standards are high enough for them? Or if theirs are high enough for you? Here are a few pointers:

If you’re asked to bring dessert you can ask if it needs to be from a kosher bakery. If your host says yes, and your kitchen is ingredients kosher versus certified kosher, you can assume you’ll need to pick something up from a kosher bakery.

Offer up your own info from the start by saying something like, “We just have one set of dishes—is it still okay for us to bring something cooked, or would you rather we brought wine?”

Ask something along the lines of, “Do you mind if I ask about your kashrut policy?” And then—this part is key—don’t judge. Or at least, judge silently. If someone isn’t up to your standards, ask about maybe meeting them at a kosher restaurant sometime, or ask if you can have them over instead. Saying, “that’s not good enough” is a quick way to make enemies.

Just to complicate things further, check out this article over the Washington Post about the Conservative movement’s tzedek hechsher, coming next year.