A blog, mostly about my work making Jewish ritual objects, but with detours into garment making, living in New York City, cooking, and other aspects of domestic life.
A note about comments: I love comments from readers, from spammers, not so much. I approve comments before posting them so comments are not cluttered with junk. It may take a few hours before your posts appear. Be patient. If you are a real person with a real comment it will be posted.
Search This Blog
transformation
I have been working on an an atara.
The silk for this atara began life as a ivory dobby woven silk.
The atara needs to be a deep blue.
There are many ways to dye silk. I like adding color in thin layers.
When you do you get a much richer and more interesting color. Yes, it does take longer.. Each layer of dye needs to dry before you add the next one.
So here is the silk after three layers. it needs to work with the wool you see at the bottom of the photo.
A few layers later...
it is just about right.
This atara needed text..
First I painted the text onto paper.
The text is " and you should do them (the mitzvot) with all of your heart and all of your soul".
There must be two dozen ways to transfer lettering to fabric. Lately, I have been loving this particular old fashioned method.
I traced the lettering above onto white cotton batiste. Batiste is a smooth evenly woven semi-sheer fabric. I used the pencil lines on the paper to align the letters on the cotton.
Then I safety pinned the cotton with the drafted lettering onto the silk. The photo above shows the process in process. You can also choose to baste using a needle and thread. I chose the safety pins basting over thread basting for no particular reason.
I am stitching the heavy gold cord to the silk using the thin blue silk thread.
Some people wait until all of the letters are completed before cutting away the cotton batiste. I see the process of snipping and pulling the white cotton threads as a bit of a reward so I do this task letter by letter.
It takes a little bit of time but it is a satisfying process.
It takes some focus and is on the most part a forgiving process.
As of this writing I have completed two of the six words.
It's Friday, so I have been cooking.
This is chicken roasted with no-sesame Za'atar and a few more herbs and spices from my pantry.
It's the Za'atar mix with lots of thyme and black pepper added to it. Some got tossed inside the chickens and the rest was massaged into the chicken.
These potatoes were oven roasted with chicken juice from a pervious Shabbat.
Our meal begins with this soup
Unfortunately it looks like industrial waste. I promise that it is delicious. It is a mushroom, chestnut and leek puree. Our dishes are grey. I have to figure out something so our first course looks somewhat appetizing. I may make some carrot flowers to top the soup.
I still haven't figure out the vegetable portion of the meal. Tonight's dessert is being brought by our
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...
A few months ago I had a craving for my father’s chicken fricassee. If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it. My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid. I assumed that the dish was an invention of my father’s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed. A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I can’t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...
My grandmother bought my mother this wooden bowl and a chopping knife, known in Yiddish as a hock-messer, soon after my parents got married. Yes, she also got them a dairy set as well. these wooden bowls and chopping knives were a big part of food prep when I was growing up. meatloaf and meat balls were mixed in this bowl. Chopped liver was made in this bowl as well. Sundays we often made chicken salad for lunch made out of chicken left over from Shabbat chopped with vegetables and mayo. That too, was made in this bowl. When I was in college my parents got their first food processor and the chopping bowls were not used as much. Several years ago, my father asked if i would like the bowls and the hock-messers. I was happy to have them. I like the sheer physicality of chopping up a big bowl of stuff into teeny pieces. While the wooden bowls have stood up well to the years of use, the hock-messers had not. The bladed which were bolted into their handles, wobbled. The blades wouldn't ...
Comments
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.