No word yet on popular dishes like narwhal casserole, moose milk ice cream, or boar sausage, but it seems like things are going to get a little tough for Israeli residents with a taste for the "exotic": 

"Knesset members are intensifying their objection to the proposed ordinance presented to the Knesset on Monday, which sets customs rates, exemptions and merchandise tax. As reported on Thursday, the ordinance includes unique items, and especially non kosher ones.

Among the items listed in the ordinance are pig meat, meat from horses, donkeys, rabbits, hares, whales, dolphins, seals, walruses, reptiles, crabs, oysters, octopuses, and even snails. Authorization of the tax rates for the list items is none other than Knesset Finance Committee Chairman Moshe Gafni (United Torah Judaism), a detail that has raised quite a stir within the legislature."

(Via)

I like food.  A lot.  Since my son's initial appearance, my wife Amanda has been watching an intense amount of Food Network (great to watch in short bursts, when you don't have the time or energy for a full show commitment) so I've been exposed to Chopped, Paula Deen, Ace of Cakes, UnWrapped, and The Next Food Network Star. It's taken quite awhile for me to appreciate watching food as much as I enjoy eating it, but thanks to Top Chef: Masters, I think I am finally there.

The fitting label for these shows is Food Porn.  For me, though, its not just Porn; it's Food Voyeurism.  As a keeper of kashrut pretty much my whole life, I have never tasted a scallop or a lobster tail.  I can only imagine a cheeseburger, let alone one with bacon, fried in chorizo fat.  And i find it hard even to fathom the consistency or taste of sea urchin.  And yet I am captivated by these shows and the food in large part because of how they peak my imagination (and test my OCD-like commitment) for hitherto unknown flavors.

This week's Top Chef Masters finale was a celebration of food and the chef's preparing it.  No nasty curveballs, nothing tricky, simply a chance for the 3 finalists to showcase their skills, passion, and food.  It was exciting and moreso than when watching past shows, I found myself wondering: what does that taste like?  Where can I eat THAT?  Why DON'T I eat sea urchin?  Mexican chef Rick Bayless‘ winning 27-ingredient Mole dish brought me to the height of food jealousy.  It wasn't even really unkosher. (ingredient-wise. At least I don't think is was.  He's keeping the recipe a secret.)

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There is almost nothing that makes me as happy as Jewess. They’ve got a whole lot of awesome going on this week (as per usual) but I’m particularly in love with the post about Jewish Women Watching. I didn’t know about JWW until I read about them on Jewess, but it turns out they’re an anonymous group of feminist rabble rousers who completely rock. Case in point: their project for sukkot involves sukkah decorations called Embrace the Treyf. Here’s some info from their press release:Jewish Women: they're watching you, buddy

Unlike the uninspired plastic fruit and paper chains that normally adorn the sukkah, JWW's decorations consist of postcards urging the Jewish community to take their social activism one step further. Each postcard juxtaposes a social justice issue that is considered "kosher" in the organized Jewish community with one that is considered "treyf". For example, while fighting anti-Semitism is encouraged, fighting racism, sexism, and homophobia does not get the same stamp of approval.

In two other postcards, JWW critiques the focus on band-aid solutions versus more sustainable projects. The underlying question of these cards is: "If we really want no one to go hungry, then shouldn't we be doing more than mitzvah day?" The most inflammatory card points out the Jewish community's extraordinary focus on human rights abuses against Darfurians while ignoring human rights abuses against Palestinians. In all of these cases, the group demands that the Jewish Community "embrace the treyf," that is, devote resources and attention to issues that are considered treyf as well as those already stamped kosher.

"Only once we start examining our own behavior, and working for justice even on those issues that make us feel uncomfortable, will we truly be committing ourselves to Tikkun Olam" said JWW's Bella Abzug. Particularly meaningful at this time of year, JWW draws inspiration from the holiday of Sukkot to communicate these ideas. Reb Beruriah, another member, explains, "The sukkah is a fragile dwelling, and for it to be kosher, it must be open. Sukkot is a time when we step outside of our comfort zones. We need to go beyond 'safe causes' and challenge the status quo."

So first of all, I hope you’ll all be embracing the treyf this year, and even printing out the postcards on the JWW site to put in your sukkah. But beyond that, I want to reinforce the idea of sukkot being a time when we step outside our comfort zone. It really is. By living in temporary dwellings, exposed to the elements and generally feeling vulnerable we should be getting a new perspective on all kinds of things. So take the next few days (let’s include Simchat Torah just because it’s attached) and look for some things outside your comfort zone. Try a shul that doesn’t seem to be your cup of tea. Go to the Pilates class that leaves you limping for the next few days. Invite the annoying people from Temple over for lunch. Not always fun, but good for you.

Get treyfin’!

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.