8 | The Jewish Press | January 29, 2021
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Abby Kutler President Annette van de Kamp-Wright Editor Richard Busse Creative Director Susan Bernard Advertising Executive Lori Kooper-Schwarz Assistant Editor Gabby Blair Staff Writer Mary Bachteler Accounting Jewish Press Board Abby Kutler, President; Eric Dunning, Ex-Officio; Danni Christensen, David Finkelstein, Candice Friedman, Bracha Goldsweig, Margie Gutnik, Natasha Kraft, Chuck Lucoff, Eric Shapiro, Andy Shefsky, Shoshy Susman and Amy Tipp. The mission of the Jewish Federation of Omaha is to build and sustain a strong and vibrant Omaha Jewish Community and to support Jews in Israel and around the world. Agencies of the Federation are: Community Relations Committee, Jewish Community Center, Center for Jewish Life, Jewish Social Services, and the Jewish Press. Guidelines and highlights of the Jewish Press, including front page stories and announcements, can be found online at: wwwjewishomaha. org; click on ‘Jewish Press.’ Editorials express the view of the writer and are not necessarily representative of the views of the Jewish Press Board of Directors, the Jewish Federation of Omaha Board of Directors, or the Omaha Jewish community as a whole. The Jewish Press reserves the right to edit signed letters and articles for space and content. The Jewish Press is not responsible for the Kashrut of any product or establishment. Editorial The Jewish Press is an agency of the Jewish Federation of Omaha. Deadline for copy, ads and photos is: Thursday, 9 a.m., eight days prior to publication. E-mail editorial material and photos to: avandekamp@jewishomaha.org; send ads (in TIF or PDF format) to: rbusse@jewishomaha.org. Letters to the Editor Guidelines The Jewish Press welcomes Letters to the Editor. They may be sent via regular mail to: The Jewish Press, 333 So. 132 St., Omaha, NE 68154; via fax: 1.402.334.5422 or via e-mail to the Editor at: avandekamp@jewishomaha. org. Letters should be no longer than 250 words and must be single-spaced typed, not hand-written. Published letters should be confined to opinions and comments on articles or events. News items should not be submitted and printed as a “Letter to the Editor.” The Editor may edit letters for content and space restrictions. Letters may be published without giving an opposing view. Information shall be verified before printing. All letters must be signed by the writer. The Jewish Press will not publish letters that appear to be part of an organized campaign, nor letters copied from the Internet. No letters should be published from candidates running for office, but others may write on their behalf. Letters of thanks should be confined to commending an institution for a program, project or event, rather than personally thanking paid staff, unless the writer chooses to turn the “Letter to the Editor” into a paid personal ad or a news article about the event, project or program which the professional staff supervised. For information, contact Annette van de KampWright, Jewish Press Editor, 402.334.6450. Postal The Jewish Press (USPS 275620) is published weekly (except for the first week of January and July) on Friday for $40 per calendar year U.S.; $80 foreign, by the Jewish Federation of Omaha. Phone: 402.334.6448; FAX: 402.334.5422. Periodical postage paid at Omaha, NE. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to: The Jewish Press, 333 So. 132 St., Omaha, NE 68154-2198 or email to: jpress@jewishomaha.org.
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Editorials express the view of the writer and are not necessarily representative of the views of the Jewish Press Board of Directors, the Jewish Federation of Omaha Board of Directors, or the Omaha Jewish community as a whole.
One more
ANNETTE VAN DE KAMP-WRIGHT Jewish Press Editor The evening news has been so worrisome lately, it’s hard to find the motivation to write about it. And when I say ‘evening news,’ I mean the 24-hour, non-stop barrage of stories about riots, extremist threats, divisiveness and disease—with economic turmoil thrown in for good measure. But here I sit: a roof over my head, a loving family and a steady job. Plenty of food in the pantry-so much, in fact, that I’m starting to get a little anxious about Passover cleaning. (Exactly how many packets of noodles do we have to go through? Maybe it’s time to ask my husband and kids to cease their visits to the Asian Market—lest we again end up eating only noodles for weeks on end). Seeing how many people are suffering (jobless, not knowing how to pay the rent, not enough money for basic needs) while not experiencing that suffering first-hand will handicap us if we let it. It’s oh-so easy to tell ourselves that ‘we’re just trying to make it through this pandemic, this political stress, as best we can.’ Why make it worse by worrying about others? We have enough on our plate. But that is not how things work. Need does not depend on whether we feel like reaching out, it doesn’t question whether our days are already tough enough, it doesn’t wonder where our limits lie. Need is constant; if you wonder if that is true, just take a drive around Omaha and count the homeless. Call the shelters, the food pantries, check the unemployment figures. Things are not going well, and we all have to share that responsibility. So, where is the good news? Is there any? And
why do I feel so guilty every time I walk into the kitchen, open my front door, swipe my debit card? “Jewish tradition emphasizes that the duty to heal is an obligation of each person,” Rabbi Nancy Epstein wrote for the Jewish Journal. “It must be balanced with the duties to provide other essential services, such as food, shelter and clothing. As op-
posed to the Declaration of Independence, which begins with inalienable rights, Judaism begins with duties, indeed God’s commandments. Healing is considered ‘a duty one has to oneself and to others.’ The Torah’s injunction to pursue justice is captured in the imperative in Deuteronomy, ‘Justice, justice thou shall pursue,’ and is tied to communal healing
and personal wellbeing. “Throughout Jewish history, the rabbis took this injunction seriously. Jewish tradition strongly focused on the importance of providing food, shelter, clothing and medical care to those in need, and to use a community’s resources wisely to balance their allocation and make sure the social safety net comprised all these primary needs.” (JewishJournal.com, 2018) The key line here seems to be “a duty to one’s self and others.” When others hurt, we hurt. When it feels like the entire world is like Job, we are obliged to step up. We can’t just watch the suffering, we have to share it, own it. The guilt that creeps up every time I see a homeless person on the street? It’s a reminder that there is always more to do. We will never reach a point where we can congratulate ourselves on a job well done. It will never be enough. Frankly, that’s a bit of a depressing thought and not what I was going for when I started typing this op-ed. I like optimistic messages—I gravitate to solving problems, finding an effective answer. This time, that may not be so easy. What I do believe is that we can still make this better by helping others. We can’t solve all our problems, and maybe the things we do compare to the proverbial drop in the bucket, but we still must do them. Maybe the voice in our head that drives us on and reminds us ‘it’s never enough’ is there for a reason: it doesn’t want us to give up. We can write one more check. We can drop off one more bag of food. We can make one more phone call to a loved one. We can light one more candle and say one more prayer. Because ‘one more’ is –if not the most satisfying answer—still so much better than not at all.
I didn’t realize I was Jewish until adulthood. Family recipes helped me discover my hidden Sephardic history. ORGE CASTELLANO This post originally appeared on The Nosher. Imagine for a second a group of Jews making a slightly different version of challah for Shabbat, matzah for Passover and doughnuts for Hanukkah. A group of people whose ancestors were forced to convert to Catholicism against their will, yet continued to practice Jewish customs underground, even at the risk of being ostracized and tortured for doing so. Meet the Silent Jews. Sometimes referred to as Crypto-Jews, anusim (Hebrew for coerced ones), or conversos, Silent Jews are descendants of Spanish Jews expelled from Spain and Portugal in 1492. Most left medieval Iberian territories for the Ottoman Empire or North Africa. Others fled persecution and settled in new frontiers in the New World, where many found refuge. I come from one of those persecuted families who came to South America around 1532 and discreetly practiced Jewish rituals, living in fear of being hunted down by the Inquisition. I only found out that my family was actually Jewish as a teenager, that all our colorful, fragrant, crunchy dishes were deeply rooted in Judaic culinary traditions from 16th-century Spain. That the ingredients and aromas of my mom’s kitchen resembled dishes from the Sephardic gastronomy repertoire. When the pandemic struck, the combination of lockdown, curiosity and melancholy led me to knead, mix and eat plates from my mom’s Jewish inheritance passed on through several generations of women in our family. The kitchen was the right place to honor their sacrifices, bravery and perseverance to maintain tradition, despite centuries of fear and persecution. My lockdown days soon began to be filled with ingredients such as eggplants, spinach, leeks and turnips, which mingled with the scents of cinnamon, anise, cardamom and nutmeg, coming together with dried fruits and legumes. Arroz con garbanzos (chickpea rice) was one of
those dishes. With its characteristic aroma of bay balls of fried dough with a sweet or salty filling — leaf, caramelized onions and raisins, the dish is mine are usually made with raw cane sugar syrup, cooked with turmeric to provide its signature yel- cloves and nutmeg. There was always cake — planlow color. As a kid, it was often mixed with a fried tain cake with cinnamon and smoked cheese, or egg, with parsley sprinkled on top. traditional bizcochuelo, a sponge cake that was In my search for Sephardic recipes, I became ever-present in my school lunchbox. Similar to pan aware that this dish is very similar to pilaf with saf- d’Espana, which Sephardim took with them to the fron, a Mediterranean spice my ancestors did not Diaspora, my mother put her own spin on this soft, have access to since it didn’t grow in their new home. Another delicious dish that also appears in the kitchens of Sephardic Jews from Turkey, Greece and Morocco is estofado de berenjenas (eggplant stew). Made by sauteing eggplants in olive oil with garlic, onion and cumin, this quick stew is served with smoked cheese or feta and an abundance of cilantro. My family pairs it with homemade bread or corn arepas, an example of incorporating local Bunuelos are small balls of fried dough with a sweet or salty filling. Credit: The Nosher ingredients. On the most stressful days of the past year, com- light cake, using cornmeal instead of ground alfort food became a necessity. A hearty dish of monds, substituting orange blossom water with a huevos con tomate (eggs with tomato) afforded me few drops of rum, and swapping grated orange peel a sense of tranquility and a break from the chaos for the peel of a lemon. and uncertainty that surrounded me. This dish, Reconnecting with my roots through food during which closely resembles shakshuka, was cooked at these difficult times has helped me to cope with my house with ají dulce — the Caribbean’s colorful stress, anxiety and loneliness. There’s still so much semi-spicy pepper — chili flakes and smoked pa- to cook, eat and share. I’ll continue paying homage prika. It’s so piquant and fragrant, I usually pair it to each and every one of the dishes that my family with plain white rice or bread. However, my mother preserved with such dedication and courage. This served it as a second course to complement her is the only way I can celebrate — and always carry traditional pescado mermao, a hake fish stew with me — their everlasting legacy. cooked over a slow fire in an iron skillet with a mixTo read more about Orge’s family history, check ture of garlic, peas and eggplant smothered in a out this essay on our sister site, Alma: sauce of chilis and tomatoes. The last touch in- heyalma.com/my-family-were-hidden-jewscluded a bunch of fresh cilantro leaves and a hint for-over-500-years-not-anymore/. of sour lime juice. It filled our entire house with a The views and opinions expressed in this article are thick, citrusy aroma. those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the And the desserts! There were bunuelos, small views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.
