Home hospitality

I didn’t leave the house for the 25 hours of Shabbat, plus a few hours on either end.  But with a constant stream of good food and good company, I actually didn’t notice I hadn’t seen daylight until it was all over.  Pretty soon, Aliza won’t be the only one in the house who needs a daily dose of vitamin D.

Friday night, Marc and I had beige frozen food for dinner: fish sticks, mini quiches, and like 5 french fries left in the bottom of the bag.  It sounds a lot more pathetic than it was (though this part is exactly as pathetic as it sounds: we didn’t have any challah, so we said motzi over matzah…).  It was just what we wanted, it took almost no prep time, and it provided a remarkable counterpoint to the incredibly fresh, colorful, and homemade meal we had planned for Saturday.  Also, Aliza flashed the most beautiful smiles while we sang Shalom Aleichem, and everything else was pretty irrelevant after that.

Saturday afternoon, Minyan Tikvah, courtesy of Joline, organized home hospitality lunches.  It was refreshing to host a Tikvah meal where everyone could fit comfortably around the table and have one conversation at a time.  Even with only 7 of us for lunch, over the course of the day, we still managed to use all of the spoons in the house.

Here’s what lunch looked like:

  • A variety of dips and spreads (guacamole, black bean dip, yogurt and beet dip, skordalia) with Stacy’s pita chips and challah.  Basically, any yummy ingredient plus garlic, olive oil, and salt in the food processor becomes amazingness.  The green guac next to the fuchsia beet dip was a special kind of beautiful.  I wish I had a picture, but I don’t.  However, Aliza in her pink onesie on her green blanket is a pretty good verisimilitude.

  • Refrigerator pickles (my dad calls them marinated cucumbers, but I decided to give them a new name today)
  • Caprese salad with the sweetest CSA tomatoes ever and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar
  • Baked tofu in a homemade peanut-free pineapple satay sauce that Marc and I would be eating with a spoon, but they’re all dirty, so we’re drinking the sauce out of the bowl, instead.  Ah, dear reader, the things I admit to.
  • Chocolate orange ice cream and dairy free almond ice cream
  • Cherries and strawberries

There was a reasonable quantity of leftovers at the end of the meal: enough to know that no one was still hungry, but not so much that I could be accused of insane Jewish food paranoia.  By the end of havdalah, though, the only thing left was the tofu, which I was selfishly hoarding for ourselves and which we’ve completely polished off since then.

Following lunch, there was couch-sitting.  Then folks from Ilana’s home hospitality lunch came over.  There was Settlers-playing.  There was leftovers-eating, both from our meal and from Ilana’s.  There was talking.  There was baby-passing, baby-admiring, baby-drooling.  There was more Settlers-playing.  There was leftovers-finishing.  There was havdalah, a little more than 25 hours after candle-lighting, since even though the afternoon stretched on and on, no one really wanted it to end.


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