Skip to main content

An adventure in Brooklyn and bits of work

 Sunday, my sister and I went to Brooklyn to visit our cousins. I admired this art-deco architectural ornament  before we went upstairs to visit our cousins.


After our visit we continued to Angela Restaurant in Boro Park home of excellent food and ugly décor.

We hadn't been since before Covid and we were greeted with hugs from the owners. I think that I finally figured out the proper way to order a meal there. You don't ask for a menu. You say that you want soup ad then you are given choices.


We both chose the soup with beef pelmeni the is garnished with fresh dill.


We could have ordered soup with noodles but I don't know how it could have been any more delicious than the soup with pelmeni.

We were then told to select from a variety of meats all grilled on the charcoal grill at the front of the store. 


We were given a choice of salad made with fresh or pickled vegetables. We chose fresh.


The bits of grilled meat arrived as they were cooked.



W ate each skewer of meat as it arrived at our table.







a hug from Angela herself






My sister is happy to be eating so many varieties of delicious meat.



When we were nearly done with our meal the TV was turned on and we got to see Kazakh entertainment.  




Just like the book title, trees do grow in Brooklyn.










So do shuls.





Across the street from the house turned synagogue above a storefront turned synagogue is expanding.



A dear friend is a direct descendant of the founder of this particular Chassidic dynasty.



I am actually getting some work done, between loads of laundry and ironing.






Soon this will be a tallit.


Yesterday I was emailing back and forth with a potential client who had found me through my blog. She was wondering if her grandfather's tallit could be restored for her son to use at his bar mitzvah.



The 1920s tallit was made out of silk or rayon. The fibers had begun to break. After looking at photos of the tallit it was clear that I could do some work to held the tallit together for a one time wear but that a long term fix was beyond my pay grade and would need a specialist textile restorer.



Chatting back and forth was lovely but the mom wisely chose not to restore that tallit. I do have an easier tallit renovation/restoration job that I will be starting soon---the work is comfortably within my wheelhouse though and restoring 1970s or 80s wool is a far easier task than 1920s silk or rayon.




 

Comments

  1. What a wonderful day! Hoping to get to NY soon and hope to say hi to you!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

I love hearing from my readers. I moderate comments to weed out bots.It may take a little while for your comment to appear.

Popular posts from this blog

מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים

  וְנֶאֱמָן אַתָּה לְהַחֲיוֹת מֵתִים: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים   You are faithful to restore the dead to life. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Resurrector of the dead. That particular line is recited at every single prayer service every day three times a day, unless you use a Reform or Reconstructionist prayer book . In those liturgies instead of praising God for resurrecting the dead God is praised for  giving life to all.  I am enough of a modern woman, a modern thinker, to not actually believe in the actual resurrection of the dead. I don't actually expect all of the residents of the Workmen's Circle section of  Mount Hebron cemetery in Queens to get up and get back to work at their sewing machines. I don't expect the young children buried here or  the babies buried here to one day get up and frolic. Yet, every single time I get up to lead services I say those words about the reanimating of the dead with every fiber of my being. Yesterday, I e...

Barukh Dayan HaEmet - Blessed be the True Judge

In 1986, when I first began working for my synagogue, one of the volunteers was a teeny little Austrian woman. Ida was so little and cute, you could swear you could just put her in your pocket and carry her around. Ida also babysat for a little girl  in our community. When I saw the two of them running around together and laughing as if they were both four, I knew that when I had kids, Ida would babysit for my kids. In order to be sure that Ida would take care of my oldest, I told her I was pregnant at the same time I told my mother. Soon after my oldest was born,  Ida was ready. She was silly, but she was also Austrian. She had her rules. She would care for a child only until they could walk. She felt that she was too old to chase children. She would work only twelve hours a week. The baby had to be fed, dressed and ready to go out when she showed up. Ida's rules made sense. It taught me, and my oldest, the value of having a schedule. Ida and ...

Two funerals and a birthday

 I know that it has been a while since I posted. We went to Boston last weekend to celebrate the bar mitzvah of a family friend. I may post about the weekend in a different post. Two disparate topics in one post is all I can manage today.  Yesterday was a busy day and filled with big emotions. We began the day at the funeral  of a young man who was a Hebrew School classmate of my older son's. I had such fond, fond memories of the sweet, funny, kind and exceptionally bright young man who also had terrible struggles. I kept remembering the young man both  as a delightful child full of promise and the suffering that he and his family have been through for the past many years. I sat with two women whose children attended preschool with the young man. We three held one another in our sorrow. Yesterday was also my husband's birthday. My husband is not someone who wants things.  When we were  at Bingo---the kosher version of Costco I spotted a large package of ste...