sarah in nyc

Our friends had a wedding to attend. The grandparents who were supposed to babysit were snowed in. So we took T for the day. T is not quite  2 1/2. She’s a funny kid. T’s parents are funny. I love how she was ready to try to put her sock on her nose when I asked her to, and really love that she knew she was being funny.     Later in the afternoon I had a different commitment. I’m on the board of my building. One of the big events in my building is Halloween. Like any good religious Jewish girl, I never went trick or treating as a kid.   My oldest was born on Halloween. As soon as my daughter was born, my parents really got into Halloween.  It seemed silly to not have my kid go trick or treating with the other kids in the building. For her, there is no better way to celebrate her birthday than getting dressed up and having people give you candy.   Tomorrow my daughter is borrowing T and taking her trick or treating in our building.   ...

It was so comforting to be fed by people who love us. They showed their love by cooking LOTS of food.   It does feel nice though to do my own cooking today. I went to Costco with my neighbor Lorraine earlier today.  My parents lived far from the closest kosher butcher. Getting meat needed forethought. I remember one Friday letting my parents know that I was going to walk the six blacks to the butcher to buy meat. It seemed unthinkable to my parents that one could buy meat so close to the time that one was going to be eating it.     I think that I have internalized the patterns of my parents’ home and usually buy meat far in advance. But today Lorraine and I went to Costco to buy the food that I would be cooking tonight. I bought two rolled roasts. I dry rubbed them with spices ( cinnamon, ginger, cloves,  corriander  and black pepper) and then cooked the meat at 350 until cooked. After the meat cooled I sliced it. I made a marinade to moisten the ...

Today I did my first bit of client related work since before my father in law died.   I am making this tallit for Tess.   tess was very clear when we had met that she wanted the silk twill base of the tallit to be the same color as my dining room walls. I couldn’t get my water color sketch exactly match my dining room walls ,but assured Tess that the final tallit would. Here is a bit of my dining room wall along with a bit of a drawing of Akko that I had purchased for my husband at the local Salvation Army and a bit of the Queen Mum plate.   Matching colors is not always easy, especially when one is exhausted and a bit brain dead, as I seem to be at the moment.  Usually I would fuss with the colors I have here at hand and mix up  the right color. Yesterday I stopped off at Lee’s Art Supply  and bought a jar of exactly the right color.   The dye is still wet and will lighten up as the fabric dries.  I like to add color in thin la...

I feel a little like the family in that famous Jewish folk tale once the ckickens and the cows  and the goats were out of the house. Things are far quieter. My community does death well. We feed mourners. So all week, beautiful comfort food arrived  to give us sustenance and comfort. The food people cooked for us wasn't flashy trendy food. One of the nights of the shiva my dear friend Elisheva told me about a stressful moment in her life. Her husband decided to make things better. he took Elisheva to a diner and instructed to cook to make Elisheva soft eggs made with lots of butter. She said that the apple cake she made me was the cake equivalent of soft eggs.  Elisheva can make seriously fancy cakes.The apple cake was truly soft eggs with lots of butter. You put that cake in your mouth and knew that someone really cared about you. Who knew that tea sandwiches served with strong tea could make one feel so loved and cared for? That a 1950's noodle kugel made with ...

 Biloxi, Mississippi February 1942 My father in law, Moshe ben Arye Leib V' Bella, died this morning in California. Y'hi Zichro Baruch. May his memory be a blessing.

This is Morris’s beautiful mother, appropriately named Bella, with her mother and her brothers. Bella’s brothers, from left to right are Izzie, Morris, Joe and Nathan. This photo was taken before the family made it’s way to the United States. Bella’s brother escaped from Russia and slept in cemeteries  as he made his way to  top the boat that was to take him to the States. . He developed TB  from the exposure to the cold, and died soon after he arrived to the states.  Bella particularly loved her brother Morris, and named her first born for her beloved brother. Morris had fond memories of his grandmother Pessye, who was a powerhouse. Bella was often ill, so Pessye would show up at Morris’s home every few weeks and cook up a storm. Morris had fond memories of Pessye making noodles from scratch. Pessye also wrote Socialist  poetry in Yiddish which was published in the Yiddish press here in New York.

June, 1928

This photograph shows my father in law, Morris, with his parents, Bella and Louis. The photo was taken over ninety years ago in Brooklyn. This photo was taken before Irving, Morris's younger brother was born. This photo was taken before Morris's best childhood friend who lived in a basement apartment with no furniture had died of mastoiditis. Before his dear friend from adolescence, Vito, the master draftsman who pushed Morris to push his own artistic gifts had died of a wasting disease. This photo was taken before Morris had met and fallen in love and married Ida. It was taken before the two of them went to Biloxi, Mississippi to teach airmen the workings of B-24 bombers during WWII. Ida taught the electrical systems, and Morris the hydrolic systems. This photo was taken before Bella died from the effects of the malnutrition she had suffered because she fed her boys and insisted that she wasn't hungry. This picture was taken before Morris was working several jobs ...

Last week, my friend Sara invited me to join her to be part of the studio audience at the Martha Stewart show. I am actually not a big fan of Martha’s for several reasons. One of the things that has consistently bothered me about both her crafts and her cooking is that she leaves you with the mistaken impression that what she attempts to do is easy. One of the ways that she does this is by glossing over the more complicated tasks in completing a project. Rather than leaving a person empowered, the mere mortal that attempts to follow her directions feels like a failure, through no fault of their own. The other thing that makes me nuts about Martha crafts is how cavalier she is about using really expensive materials aimed towards a beginner. I remember a project for a cashmere blanket in the early days of the magazine where the cashmere cost over $100/yard. All beginners are nervous when attempting a project. Starting out using such expensive materials would paralyze me.her recent bo...

This lovely passage, the confessional of Rabbi Nissim of Blessed Memory is in the introductory pages of my grandmother’s Yom Kippur prayer book. In it, Rabbi Nissim asks for mercy, not because he is so particularly worthy, but because the divine is merciful. I don’t think that my grandmother ever read this passage.  This prayer book was probably a replacement from one that had fallen apart from years of use.I assume that my grandfather bought it for her. I assume this because it is Nusach S’fard, the text that is used by Chassidim. My grandmother was, let me put it diplomatically, skeptical, at best, of Chassidic practice. Every year I call my mother to wish her a good Yom Kippur. Each year, she tells me how every year her father would ask my mother for Mechila, forgiveness. my mother would say that every year it made her weep that her sweet father would ask for forgiveness. My mother would cry and her father would ask in Yiddish, “ So, do you forgive me?”. This year my ...

    My sister loves high end art scarves and collects them. I decided to maker her a scarf for her birthday. The more usual way to make scarves like this one, is to sandwich the ribbons between sheets of wash- away stabilizer. I don’t have any in my stash. Another way I have made these sorts of scarves is to sandwich the fibers between layers of plastic wrap and then iron off the plastic. I actually tired to do that, but the presser foot kept sticking to the plastic and making a mess.   I then began again by essentially stitching in the air between the loops  of hand dyed ribbon. Yes, it’s time consuming and more than slightly obsessive. you have to work carefully because if you don’t, the toe of the presser foot gets stuck on the ribbon. After putting together a strip of about six inches by about 80 inches of the magenta, I added a new layer of the blue striped satin ribbon that I had purchased at Archer last week. The scarf is light weight and surprisingl...

My son is a cool kid. He’s outrageously funny. He can play any instrument that is put in front of him. He claims that he is not , however a Hipster.  My son has decided to dress up as a Hipster for Halloween. Here he is , in his costume. The jeans are his sister’s, the t-shirt pulled out of the too small box. The plaid shirt is my husbands, It was old when we began going out in 1981. The scarf is mine and the hand knit had belongs to a friend. The depressed look is part of the costume. My daughter took the photo and sent it to all of her friends. One of her friends suggested that he go as William S. Berg. I just sent him out to buy bread. He wore the costume. He assumes that most people won’t think that it is a costume.   My daughter has grown up in this household. Like my husband, she is thrifty. Now that she is (temporarily) living home full time, all of her clothing is in one place. She noticed that some of her underpants date back to middle school. So foot the past...

Finally, a grown up way to find the terrific trim place across the street from Daytona. It's called Archer Zippers and Trim 244 West 39th Stret 2nd floor 212-354-6111 They are currently selling off the stock in the west corner of their ( I hesitate to call it this) show room. Prices are pretty amazing if you want to buy in bulk.

You can still sign up for the pattern give away. Just send me a message to claim this set of patterns. You can reply in a comment or, better yet, email me sj.hand@verizon.net  with your snail mail address and i will ship it to you. Sorry folks, this give away is open only to US addresses ( unless you choose to pay for the overseas postage)

Yesterday, I blew shofar during the Shofarot part of Musaph. I don’t know if it was the weather, but none of the people who were given the honor the first day could produce what the old Silverman prayer book used to call “ the shrill quivering call of the shofar”. The sounds that emerges were choked spitty pfffts. it may well have been the weather, because when I tried my own shofar in the afternoon, all I could produce were those same pathetic choked sputters. My father was the sole shofar blower in his synagogue in Quincy. I used to wait anxiously hoping that he could produce that strong true slightly terrifying sound. Done right, a shofar blast sounds like it is carrying your deepest prayers to the heavens. My father usually did an excellent job we would sit in the front row watching my fathers face turn red with the effort. It was always both thrilling and highly anxiety provoking watching my father blow shofar. For many years, the woman who blew shofar at my synagogue was a ...