A few weeks ago, I posted about Birkat HaIlanot, the “Blessing on the trees” said around this time of year upon seeing the first blooming fruit trees.  After reading Rhea’s post the other day about blessings, I decided to revisit the topic.  It’s amazing how many times the subject has come up in the last few weeks, even among people who hadn’t read my post.  Yes, there are such people out there; it’s crazy, I know.  First, there have been all the great magnolia trees I’ve seen blooming all around Park Slope.  Then, there were those who wondered if the pear trees you see all over Manhattan, which don’t actually grow pears, count for the blessing.  And on, and on.

The month Nisan begins tonight and with it, so many associations. Last year, I wrote about the practice of refraining from eating Matzah from Rosh Hodesh Nisan (i.e. tonight) until Passover. Most people make, if any, the association of dreaded Pesach cleaning and preparation. I’ll be writing some about that in a few days or next week, God willing, but for now, let’s stick to things connected specifically to Rosh Hodesh Nisan.

One association fewer people make is that Birkat haIlanot, the blessing over blooming trees, is typically said in the month of Nisan:

This blog is not the right place for it, but still, Roger Cohen has really gotten on my nerves over the last year or so.  His ranting about how wonderful Iran is and how great it is for the Jews there made me question my devotion to the New York Times.  His  piece “Advantage France,” in Sunday’s paper, about some of the differences between the French diet and the American diet, may have me beginning to change my mind.  I’ve only spent a few days in France, and only in Paris, but I’m guessing he’s exaggerating somewhat.  Nevertheless, the idea of Americans adopting any diet (or lifestyle, really) that required not only combining the ingredients and cooking them, but processing them to begin with (filleting the fish, making the pasta, etc) does sound beautiful and absurd.  The idea of connecting to food on a “gut” level and a geographic one far predates the terroir of which Cohen writes, at least in Jewish tradition.

I’ve always thought the community should have more of a say when it comes to kosher restaurants.  The way I see it, even though they are for-profit enterprises, it’s in our best interest that they’re around.  Anyway, for a million reasons, please join me in creating what might be the first-ever egalitarian, non-denominational Va’ad Kashrut (council on Kosherness.)  We will supervise, and certify, restaurants and other institutions in Brownstone Brooklyn in a halakhic manner consistent with our community’s values and priorities.  Although first and foremost, I imagine our standards being more or less traditional, even if our approach is not, I hope we can find ways to incorporate labor, animal-abuse and other concerns into our supervision.  One restaurant in Park Slope is already lined up and waiting for your involvement.  Please get involved regardless of where you live, how observant you are, etc.  Learn more:

“Rabbi Shimon taught: ‘…Three who dine at a table and exchange words of Torah are considered as having eaten at God’s table…’”  (Pirke Avot 3:4)  I suppose a discussion of religion is considered verboten almost everywhere by certain people, but not in Jewish culture.  Then again, we like to talk politics in public, too!  But in the days of the Mishna, of course the conversation was only with the other people at the table.  After all, there was no e-mail, no phones…  and no text messages!  I remember, when cell phones were first becoming popular, my friend railing against people who would answer calls during dinner.  I agreed with her, but felt there should be some wiggle-room:  what if your friend is calling to say she’ll be late?  What if he needs directions to the restaurant?  Also, why should it bother me at the next table?  I understand if it is the person you’re dining with, but the “noise” argument makes no sense, since you wouldn’t be bothered by the people at the next table having a normal conversation.  Nowadays, we’re all used to this and most of us are pretty polite about it (music on the subway is a different story entirely, but I’ll restrain myself for now.)  Text messages, though around for years, have recently become more of a problem according to the NYT Dining section.

This optimistic article points to an issue felt acutely in “inner cities” around the country: a lack of fresh produce being sold at market.  This problem was controversially or famously addressed in my city by the New York City Green Cart initiative but this certainly hasn’t solved it and plenty of other cities have the same issues (NYC isn’t even mentioned in the article, though LA, Newark and Detroit are, and the article is mainly about Chicago.)  Could it be that looking to Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s as examples, however, are more detrimental than good?  As big a supporter of organics as I am, I think encouraging people to eat “conventional” produce would be a big boon over Mickey-D’s and would be a lot cheaper and easier than the “greenest” route.  Even frozen produce makes a nice, healthy, easy and inexpensive meal most of the time.

My parents’ shul and rabbi are mentioned in this article, which should make the notion of an intentionally eco-Kosher Shabbat meal seem that much more normal.  But it doesn’t.  Every meal I host, like nearly every meal my friends host, is vegetarian, with special emphasis placed on organics, etc, during the “food tour.”  This, too, should make it all seem so normal, but it doesn’t.  I have vegan friends (and was vegan myself for 6 years) who host with or request water challahs, no hard-boiled eggs in the cholent (the best part, if you ask me, or most people, judging by the fighting that sometimes happens over them,) etc.  I think the reason it doesn’t seem so normal is that it’s not really.  Are my friends and me, Jews who do the whole Shabbat/Kosher/observance thing and do it in this way, a subculture within a subculture?

Before, during and after the beginning of each month (Rosh Hodesh,) we make statements and prayers related to miracles.  On Rosh Hodesh Adar and Rosh Hodesh Nisan, it is particularly easy to see why.  Each month is marked by a holiday (Purim and Pesach, respectively) celebrating and commemorating miracles.  Almost every Jewish holiday or festival falls in the middle of the month and Rosh Hodesh marks the time when you’d better start getting ready for the upcoming holiday.  If you aren’t thinking about Pesach (Passover) yet, you haven’t been reading this blog much and you have some catching up to do.  The traditional observance of Pesach involves learning a lot of rules, cleaning a tremendous amount, inviting a lot of guests and a whole lot of cooking.

But Rosh Hodesh Nisan has another function, too.  In some communities, no Matzah is to be eaten from RH Nisan onward, in order to whet our appetites for Matzah at the Seder.  In other communities, this practice begins only the day before the Seder, but it is a lot more dramatic done the first way, and I have always had some questions about it.  I think this year I’ll follow the longer practice.  Did I mention Rosh Hodesh Nisan is tonight and tomorrow?

“They were to observe them as days of feasting and merrymaking (y’mei mishteh v’simha) and as an occasion for sending gifts to one another and presents to the poor.”
-Esther 9:22

Other than reading and/or hearing the Megillah, every mitzvah of Purim is mentioned in this one verse. Each of them is centered on food in some way, as it is a Jewish holiday, and the verse could arguably be the basis for the joke that every Jewish holiday can be summed up by the phrase, “they tried to kill us, God saved us, let’s eat.” What the Jews of Shushan did, however, was more than just eat.