◊ Get a Grip

Posted on August 15, 2014 by shainashealy

Dear mom,

Get a grip. Seriously. If you’re going through life desperately worrying about the invasion of inexplicable life altering tragedies, then maybe you have… like… a problem.

I worry too, but, as I explained in my previous letter, I’m tryna stick with things that are productive. I worried about getting to the airport with enough time to go on a fancy lotion sampling tour at Duty Free after security. It was a productive worry – it made me wake up to my alarm (and every hour for 3 hours before it). Now I’m sitting on the floor, charging my computer and waiting to board my flight out of Israel. My skin is all greased up with an estimated $50 of moisturizer (does anyone actually buy such expensive lotions foreal?).

I’m about to board the plane, but it doesn’t feel like I’m leaving. I’m at ease. Maybe it’s because I’m in denial, or maybe it’s because I know I’ll be back. Maybe I’m actually a little ready for a break from constantly untangling my brain from the mess it absorbs from media, friends, family, cab drivers, vegetable-sellers, professors, twitter.

I know this mess won’t go away once I’m out of Israel… that it will become more intense as I’m expected to answer questions about rockets, airstrikes, tunnels, Bibi, #IsraelUnderFire, #GazaUnderAttack, Palestinian identity, Jewish identity, Jerusalem clashes, UNRWA, Shujaiyya, Sderot, soldiers, sirens. I’m happy to share my reflections, but please know that I don’t know anything. My opinions are few and my certainty is limited.

My certainty is limited to my favorite hummus places (Blue Bus and the place off Agripas with bright colored plastic boxes for seats), where to buy the freshest nuts in the shuk (the guy after halva king and before the cheap herbs on the left if you’re walking towards Yaffo in the covered side), the best jogs (Tel Aviv’s Tayelet, Jerusalem’s Tachanat Rishon and Har Eitan), the tastiest salads (Orna v’ Ella in Tel Aviv, Nodir near Bezalel), most beautiful hikes (haaj from Jerusalem to Jericho), and which professors to avoid at Hebrew U (will remain unnamed).

A walk from Jerusalem to Jericho

My nut guy

Blue Bus hummus, Pardes Hana

They make it in a blue bus

View from my favorite jogging site, Tel Aviv’s Tayelet

Orna V Ella, Tel Aviv

I’m certain that my gratitude for family who allowed me to really be family will be forever; that roommates can be family too; that my classmates provided more education than my professors; that Jerusalem attracts straight-up weirdos (I like them anyways); that friends are important; that feeling Shabbat is a special thing; that Jerusalem, for better or worse, is much more than a city and place.

It’s been quite a year. Thanks in advance for preparing for my return with my favorite foods and clean sheets… In that sense, I guess your worrying is productive (or it at least works out in my favor). Can’t wait for a haircut, massage, hot bath and all the things that will help me restore energy to dive into another intense year of unknowns. I’m just four take-offs and landings away! Til then, hold yourself together.

xo,

Shaina

Today I will post two recipes – one dedicated to family: Nurit’s Red Pepper and Goat Cheese Tart, the other dedicated to friends: Zesty Sorrel Pesto.

As you know, the last month or so was a bit stressful and weekend getaways to family saved me. For the past two months, Nurit and the rest of the Pardes Hana family has nourished my soul, beached my body and washed and folded my laundry almost every weekend. Several Shabbats ago, Nurit made an incredible goat cheese tart. Eggs, cheese and carbs – the perfect comfort food. I re-made it with rye flour for a Shabbat that I hosted before I moved out of my Nachlaot apartment. It was a much needed indulgence.

Red Pepper and Goat Cheese Tart with a Rye Crust

Prep time: one hour

Makes two pies: serves 7 – 8

Crust:

1 /12 c all purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
1 c rye flour
1 cup butter, chilled and cubed
1 tsp salt
7 tbs ice water

Filling:

1 tbsp olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 small red onions, thinly sliced
3 medium bell peppers (mix of yellow, red and orange), sliced vertically

1 cup soft goat cheese
1 cup cream
3 medium eggs
tsp salt
1/3 cup fresh basil, chopped

Mix the flours and salt in a large bowl. Add the butter and rub in with your fingertips until it crumblies to teeny balls. Add 4-5 tablespoons cold water and use your hands to mix it into a dough. Wrap and chill for at least 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Roll out the dough on a floured surface. With the dough, line a standard pie dish. Press the pastry into the corners of the dish. Leave the excess overhanging the edge. Poke holes in the base with a fork, line with baking paper and fill with rice or beans to weigh down. Bake for 15 minutes, remove from oven and set aside.

-OR BUY A PRE-MADE PIE CRUST-

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a pan. Sauté onions on low heat until fragrant. Add peppers and garlic and sauté until tender, about 10 minutes. Set aside to cool.

Whisk eggs, cream, salt and basil in a separate bowl. Spread cheese along bottom of pastry crust and layer with onions and peppers. Pour egg and cream mixture on top. Scatter with remaining peppers and onions, and bake for thirty minutes until top is golden. Allow to cool before serving.

Zesty Sorrel Pesto

Last week, some of my friends and I organized a food party to learn how to make Chinese dumplings. I learned how to prepare them, but didn’t want to eat the meat… It was one of the few times I’ve hated my vegetarianism. The other time involved Bubbe’s kreplach, which is basically the same food as Chinese dumplings minus the added ginger. I guess I have a thing for dumplings.

My lame contribution to our cross-cultural food exchange was toasted pita with sorrel pesto, parmesean and almond/cashew pieces. My original idea was to do buckwheat blinis with sorrel pesto, ricotta and crushed hazelnuts but I didn’t get it together in time. I still can’t stop thinking about it though, so it will definitely happen in the future.

I made a big batch of sorrel pesto about two months ago and kept it in the freezer (removing small lbatches into jars that lved in the fridge about twice a week or so). I found a huge (HUGE!) box of what I thought was spinach for just ten shekels at Machane Yehuda, so I took it home. Turns out it was sorrel! Instead of hitting my books, I went straight to the kitchen to prepare a big tub of pesto. In additoin to my master blini plan, this pesto is the perfect quick fix to add zest and rich flavor to simple salad of chopped veggies. Really, it’s a game-changer… especially when in a time and resource crunch (story of my life).

Zesty Sorrel Pesto

Prep time: 20 minutes

Serves: A lot

10 ounces of fresh sorrel
5 cloves of garlic, chopped
4 tbs tahini or almond butter
1 tbs good olive oil
juice and zest of 2 medium lemons
1 tsp sea salt
generous dash of fresh black pepper
1/2 cup walnuts

Wash sorrel and chop or tear into small pieces. Chop garlic roughly. Add spinach, garlic and remaining ingredients (except for walnuts) to food processor. Pulse until a thick, green puree forms. Once you have a paste, add walnuts and pulse until desired consistency. I like to leave the walnuts a little crunchy for added texture.

♦ Luv Ya

Posted on August 10, 2014 by estherschuster

Dear Shaina,
I clearly know how lucky I am to have you as my daughter. My worry doesn’t stem from my lack of confidence in you. My worry simply is. I worry about you wherever you are…Uganda, Washington, DC, Bolivia, India, Israel…and yes, I will worry about you in Berkeley, too. In fact, I’ve already started.

I worry about the safety of the world you live in and will hopefully raise children in someday. I worry about the randomness of birth and death and the day-to-day moments. I inherited that worry, that knowledge that the world, my world, your world, could crumble to pieces in an instant. I have spent years examining other people’s lives and families and marveling at those who have accumulated generations of personal memories…trying desperately to believe that it is possible to get through this life without some major inexplicable life altering tragedy. I just haven’t mastered that much security and faith yet.

A transformation is coming!

You will be home in four days! My life is in total disarray with much less consequence than the disarray and disorder you are surrounded by. I am trying to maintain my perspective. I will have your room cleaned, your laundry done and your closet put back in some order before you get here. I will prepare your favorite foods and stock the refrigerator with organic yogurt and almond milk. I have Bubbe Knishes in the freezer and Dad bought beautiful heirloom tomatoes that will ripen to perfection by the time you get here.

Heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil

I will indulge you in any way I can for the five days of transition you have allowed yourself before you hop on another plane and take off to Berkeley. I will stay calm. I will follow any orders you give me. I will leave you alone if that is what you need. And I will be ever so grateful to tuck you into your bed at night, to rehash the day and to kiss your freshly greased cheek good night. When you’re ready, I will flip the light out and respond to our well-rehearsed night-time refrain…Luv ya, See you in the morning. We will hold on to those seven words as if our lives depend on them. And they do. Love and the belief in a tomorrow is what keeps me going.

I am counting the minutes.

See you soon,
Love, Mom
xoxooxoxxoxoxoxooxoxoxxo

Alabama Summer Veggies for Shabbat

Basil Marinated Corn on the Cob

Dad bought some corn at the market and, as usual, brought home way more than we needed. After eating some cooked the traditional way for dinner, I decided to marinate the rest to serve cold for Shabbat dinner the next night. This is an easy do-ahead recipe and perfect as a cold summer salad dish. Norma-Jill gets credit for this one. She served it for dinner with salmon and all sorts of delicious salads and vegetables, all made ahead of time.

1 cup fresh basil chopped
8 ears of corn steamed for 5-7 minutes

Marinade

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup water
juice of one or two lemons
1/2 cup flat leaf parsley chopped
1 cup chopped red onion
3 garlic cloves chopped
1 TBL sugar
1/2 cup olive oil
salt, pepper to taste

Whisk all marinade ingredients together, except basil and corn.
Add basil and stir to mix.
Break or cut steamed and cooled ears of corn in half. Place in plastic container and pour marinade over top. Cover tightly.
Keep in refrigerator overnight.
Serve at room temperature.

◊ From the Bottom

Posted on July 31, 2014 by shainashealy

Dear mom,

I’m sure what you are experiencing on the news must be very scary for you, but the worrying is annoying and needs to stop. My day-to-day reality is not scary … it’s just exhausting.

I have lived on five continents. I have been exposed to a variety of worldviews, political clusterfucks and human rights tragedies. I became used to being an outsider looking in, which made it fairly easy for me to swing across conflicting realities. I adjusted quickly from Mumbai to New York to Mountain Brook.

Here, I am not an outsider. I do not have the privilege of casual opinions, quiet observations or weightless sympathy. I am a Jew living in Israel. My actions and words are part of the stage.

Several times a day, I am tossed across worlds that host separate realities and contradicting narratives. As the truths shift, so does my heart. Listening to everyone is exhausting; cross-checking my reactions to it all before I open my mouth drains me empty. Sometimes it hurts.

I want the violence to stop. I turn inward. I ask myself what I can do to ease the chaos around me. Right now, living in Jerusalem feels like living in a pressure cooker and, from what I see, the heat is not fueled by extremists or political leaders. It is fueled by people like me — laypeople who neglect personal responsibility by refusing or forgetting to build unity into their agendas of day-to-day tasks. The heat is fueled by people who are set on defining and defending rights and wrongs.

I know what you’re thinking and yes, there very well may be universal rights and wrongs … but the fact that they exist has no bearing on the situation here. Anyone can argue a black and a white. I want the violence to stop and I don’t see a purpose in sustaining this argument.

I want the violence to stop, so I will focus my energy on efforts that are productive. I will take time to listen, engage, acknowledge the suffering and pain of others, tell stories, smile and humanize. I will speak as an individual, avoid blame and propaganda and veer from divisiveness. It is all that I can do.

I am a Jew living in Israel … and — deep breath –I refuse to be enemies with my neighbors … and — another deep breath — I refuse to mitigate my empathy for human-life (regardless of my political views). I am not naive to think that my efforts are always (or often) mutual, nor do I think they can create peace at-large. But I do believe that I can lower the heat on the pressure cooker in which I live. I can say hello and listen to, tell and re-tell stories. Peace can come from the bottom. From the streets. From people like me.

Stop worrying.

xo,

Shaina

See... people are still dancing in the street. They aren't scared, you shouldn't be either.

See… people are still dancing in the street. They aren’t scared- there’s no reason for you to be.

Ps. I know you’re not happy with my decisions right now, but I hope my letter sheds some light unto my reasoning. And really, stop worrying.

Pps. Here’s a Jewish bit that I found consoling: In a recent d’var Torah, Rabbi Les Bronstein of T’ruah explained that the Torah tells us that we must to do what is necessary to save ourselves … but that even when we are protecting ourselves, we must allow ourselves to weep for the other. He said, “If we stop protecting ourselves, we will cease to be. But if we stop caring about the consequences of our self-preservation, we will cease to be the Jewish people, which may be tantamount to ceasing to exist altogether.”

Musakhan

Last week, I helped the family downstairs prepare the Iftar meal with which they break their Ramadan fast. They showed me how to make Musakhan, which, I was told, is the Palestinian dish to know. I’ve tried a lot of foods from this region so I was shocked (and upset) that I wasn’t familiar with most famous Palestinian dish! But now I know. Even though I ate around the chicken, it was an incredible meal.

Along with Musakhan, we made “Arab Salad,” which is the salad that I (and many Israelis) eat almost every day – finely chopped vegetables mixed with tahini, lemon juice and parsley.

Also, look at this amazing oven that works like a taboon – can we get one?

Serves 5 – 7

Prep time – 1 – 2 hours

1 whole chicken, cut into 4 or 5 pieces
4 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp cloves, ground
3 cardamom seeds, crushed
salt and black pepper
2 tbs olive oil
juice of 1/2 lemon
4 tbs sumac

1 pound white or yellow onions
1 pound red onions
2 tsp salt
1/4 cup olive oil
1 cup chicken (or vegetarian) stock
4 Tbs. ground sumac
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

4 pieces lavash, taboon, shrak, or pita bread
1/2 cup toasted cashews, almond slices, pine nuts
handful of parsley for garnish

Combine garlic, cloves cardamom seeds , salt and black pepper. set aside one tablespoon of mixture and rub remainder into chicken. Let marinate.

Meanwhile, chop onions into small pieces. Place in large skillet with olive oil and half of your chicken stock and salt. Cover and cook over very low heat for 10 minutes or until onions are translucent. Then, add remaining spices and continue cooking over low heat for another 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Roast chicken in oven on 400 degrees on a baking sheet. Mix reserved tablespoon of spices with lemon juice and 4 tbs sumac. Once chicken is roasted, cover chicken with remaining spices.

Once onions are cooked and fragrant, brush pan with olive oil. Place bread on pan and sprinkle with 3 – 4 tbs of chicken (or veg) stock. Then, cover with onions and place in oven.

Bake for 15 – 20 minutes until onions are browned and bread is crispy. Place chicken on top of bread and garnish with parsley and cashews, almonds or pine nuts. To eat, rip pieces of bread and chicken with your hands, or cut it up like a pizza. For a vegetarian version, replace chicken with baked zatar tofu, or top with labneh or greek yogurt.

♦ Counting the Days

Posted on July 26, 2014 by estherschuster

Dear Shaina,

I have shared your thoughts, so eloquently written, with many of my friends. They, too, are worried…and proud. They call and email and ask about you and then about me. They ask if you can come home early. I tell them you don’t want to; that you are OK, that you are feeling it all and questioning it all, that you are vigilant and careful, and going about your life, still. I tell them you are safe and I pray that it is true.

I was in the temple gift shop and bought a red thread bracelet with a charm that has Sh’ma Yisroel in Hebrew on it; the Sh’ma to keep G-D near, the red threads to keep the evil eye far away. I lose at Mahjong and willingly offer up my losses to the mahjong gods in exchange for your safe return.

I pray for an end to all wars. I pray for an end to senseless hatred and violence. I pray for an uprising of the best that humanity has to offer; care and respect for all living beings, peace and opportunity for all, a world that is free of people-induced tragedies. I am cynical and naive. I pray anyway.

I haven’t been doing much cooking lately. My cooking marathons have come to a near halt and efficiency and expediency are driving my food preparations. I haven’t been sleeping much either. The only thing I seem to be doing a lot of is watching the news and worrying. The whole world is a mess…and that doesn’t even begin to identify my concern over the situation in Israel…and my anxiety about you. I can’t help it. Someday, you will understand, when your own child lives in a world where dangers and threats exist at every turn, where no amount of reason, love, prayer or force can nullify evil intent or random insanity. I am scared…for you…and for the world. Needless to say, I am counting the days until you get home.

These days, I find myself reaching for Israeli foods and spices. The Israeli olive oil I lugged back from Israel finally got opened. The basmati rice got an extra dose of Israeli spices. Gail made shakshuka for Shabbat dinner and Rebecca baked Nurit’s coffee cake recipe that you and Naomi love.

Bok Choy Salad with Avocado, Raisins and Cashews

I made a revised version of my Bok Choy Asian Salad (from my last letter) adding avocado, thai basil from the garden, raisins and cashews and, although not Israeli fare, it added a little spice and international flavor that everyone appreciated. I guess food continues to be another way to stay connected and feel a little closer to you and our family so far away.

I did throw together an eggplant parmesan casserole this week in an attempt to use some Japanese eggplant that was waiting for my attention. In fact the whole dish was designed around cleaning out the refrigerator. I used the remains from a large tub of cottage cheese that I could never seem to get to the bottom of and store-bought jars of tomato sauce that had been sitting in the pantry for too long to remember. It actually turned into a very easy, satisfying meal that enabled me to avoid cooking dinner for several days.

I am counting the days until your return. I ask only that you call or text everyday to let me know that you are safe. I just feel better when I hear your voice.

Love, Mom
xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxxoxooxox

Easy Eggplant Parmesan

Japanese Eggplant

2 -3 pounds Japanese eggplant
Olive oil
Salt, pepper, garlic
2-3 cups cottage cheese
2 eggs
1/2 cup chopped fresh basil
1 quart jar of your favorite tomato sauce
1 cup (or more) grated mozzarella cheese

Slice eggplant in 1/2 inch thick rounds. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt, pepper and garlic powder. Toss together to lightly cover eggplant.

Place in a single layer on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and bake on the convection bake setting at 350° or 375° on a regular bake setting for about 20 minutes or until lightly browned and cooked through. Flip eggplant over half way through cooking. Japanese eggplant is always tender and not bitter so there is no need to pre-salt and let sit as you do with traditional eggplant.

Mix cottage cheese, eggs and basil with a stick blender until somewhat smooth.

Spray cooking spray on bottom and sides of a deep casserole dish.

Open jar of sauce and put a small amount on the bottom of the casserole baking dish.

Place an overlapping layer of eggplant to cover the bottom of the casserole and cover with a layer of tomato sauce.

Pour cottage cheese mixture over the eggplant.

Top with remaining layers of eggplant and cover with remaining tomato sauce.

Sprinkle mozzarella cheese over the top.

Bake in a 350° oven for 45 minutes or until bubbly and cheese is lightly browned at the edges.

This dish may be frozen before or after baking for future meals.

◊ Let’s Talk

Posted on July 14, 2014 by shainashealy

Dear mom,

Indeed, the life force goes on. Throughout stress, transition and mayhem, we chop vegetables. We get on buses. We pretend we’re taking notes in class when we’re chatting with friends online. We finish homework on time for class (ha). Tragedy and fear persist, and so does life.

Many people from home have been asking how I’m handling it all. People ask about what it’s like when sirens go off indicating that rockets from Gaza are on the way. They ask for my thoughts on “the conflict.” I’m unable to vocalize anything… My anger, sadness and sensitivity surprise me each time in engage with someone about life here. The whole situation has tremendously affected me.

Several days ago, I released some of the mess in my brain with a pen-and-paper purge. I didn’t write my thoughts with the intention of posting them here, but I want to share them with you.

One week ago, four days after the bodies of Eyal, Gilad and Naftali were found outside of Jerusalem, I went to my first course of the summer semester, which covers inter-communal relations in Jerusalem, a topic that puzzles and fascinates me regularly. In the first twenty minutes of class, my classmates and I introduced ourselves with our names and a comparison between our hometowns and Jerusalem.

My name is Jia-li, and I come from the Szechwan province, where it hot in the summers like it is now in Jerusalem.

My name is Amir, and I come from San Juan, which is a walled city resembling Jerusalem.

My name is Jackie, and I come from Boston, where historic architecture is all around like it is in Jerusalem.

I was the last person in the room to share.

My name is Shaina…

My voice was unexpectedly shaky.

I grew up in Birmingham, AL, a city known for its history of racism and hate crimes. Today, systemic racism and segregation in the public sphere exist. I did not interact with African Americans other than grocery-store clerks, maintenance workers, house cleaners and ‘nannies’ until I was in high school. I joined dialogue groups and workshops to talk about race, and made black friends who were afraid to come to parties at my house because they did not want to be stopped by the police in an almost all-white neighborhood. I ventured to neighborhoods that I was told not to go to. I became comfortable with the discomfort of being in a place where I am different and comfortable with the discomfort of being in a place where everyone is just like me.

I did not have to explain how my hometown was similar to Jerusalem.

Two weeks ago, I moved from an apartment in Nachlaot to a Palestinian neighborhood. Nachlaot is in West Jerusalem. Its residents wear high-waisted jeans picked from the racks of trendy vintage stores, American Apparel leggings (the kind of thing to stock up on when moving to Israel from the US) and old leather backpacks. They are hip Jewish-Israeli artists, students and young professionals.

I moved to a Palestinian neighborhood to practice my Arabic and experience a different space of the city. My new apartment is a fifteen minute walk from my old one and it feels like it’s in a separate country. Even the pavement on the streets is different.

Last Wednesday, the day that the boys’ bodies were found in Hebron, I was in the library until evening, multitasking between writing final papers and reading the news. When I got to my apartment, I squeezed through barricades of soldiers to reach my front door. I found my roommates packing overnight bags. Neither of them – a Palestinian-American and a Dane – felt safe staying in the apartment. We shared updates from our Facebook newsfeeds and the op-eds we had read. I listened to the Palestinian-American’s accounts of the situation in Gaza and Hebron. We left the apartment and headed in different directions – I walked back to Nachlaot, my old neighborhood.

Ten minutes later, I was on Jaffo Street in the city-center. A mob of pre-teens emerged from an alley screaming, in Hebrew, “death to Arabs,” followed by police on horses. Young girls wearing Israeli flags laid down in front of the horses while the teens ran in the streets with sticks in their hands, cheering and shouting like they were at a football game. I started crying. I followed the mob, and watched them surround two small Arab boys against the wall of a shop. The police were gone. The boys sprinted away as fast as they could. The mob cheered.

I arrived at my friend’s house in Nachlaot and plopped down on his leather couch next to others just like me. They had gathered to comfort one another in face of the day’s painful news. The conversation vacillated between things like the health benefits of sprouted grains and how only a society of animals could celebrate something so brutal as the murder of children. I was too shaken to say anything. My fifteen minute walk from neighborhood to neighborhood illuminated the separateness of the multiple realities being lived by Jerusalem’s inhabitants. These realities are divided by vast gaps, but have been built right on top of each other.

The next day, the body of Muhammed Abu Khadier was found. Another tragedy. In spite of warnings from friends, family and Israeli security, I went to Muhammed Abu Khadier’s mourning tent in Shuafat, a fifteen minute walk from my University’s campus. I thought about the fifteen minutes it took for me to get from Mountain Brook to Ensley – going there was the only way to bridge the gap.

Visiting Muhammed Abu Khadier’s family was sad and uncomfortable and important.

The severity of the conflict has escalated. People in Jerusalem are scared; people in Tel Aviv are scared; people in Gaza are scared; I am scared. What does this violence mean for the future of the families around me? These days have been a painful time for Jews and for Palestinians.

Today, a Muslim-American friend (she wears a headscarf) asked if I wanted to meet up for dinner in a place that feels mutually safe. I laughed to myself.

I responded via text message, Hahaha yes!

And then, Sorry, not funny… just feeling confused about where that place is supposed to be.

I am embarrassed to admit this: when I walk the streets of Jerusalem my heart remembers driving around Birmingham. It remembers being conflicted, torn and confused about where I’m supposed to be. It remembers the dialogue groups I participated in in high school – Anytown Alabama, Heritage Panel and PEACE Birmingham – that positioned me to see individuals beyond their homophobia or evangelical conviction that I was eternally dammed. In Birmingham, I learned that trying to bridge gaps can curb violence and fear; I learned how to speak and think in I instead of we and they; I learned that no one has exclusive ownership of the truth. Is it naive to think that teaching our children to communicate – to think – could make the world more livable?

Thank you for sending your prayers – please, continue to do so. But more importantly, let’s talk.

Whoa.

xo,
Shaina

Ps. Wow dad has tarragon growing in the garden?! YES.

This salad is adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi’s 2012 collaboration : “Jerusalem: A Cookbook.” You know it. The two are an Israeli Jew and Palestinian who united over a shared appreciation of food among other things. I received their book as a gift from my aunt and immediately fell in love. I will never be able to look at it in the same way I did before living Jerusalem. It’s pages, in which Ottolenghi and Tamimi weave together the separate realities of the city, are colored with familiar scenes, characters and flavors. It’s beautiful.

Shabbat dinner spread

Tamimi and Ottolenghi aren’t the only ones: Jam Session, recipes from women belonging to The Parents Circle, a group of Israeli and Palestinian parents who lost children in the conflict, is another inspiring collaboration. There is hope. Yesterday, my classmates and I had the privilege to hear Raphie Etgar, the founder/director of Museum on the Seam speak about his work to create dialogue and unearth hard topics through art. Etgar told us that “creating art is one of the ways people can something and expect other to listen … Discussion is a starting point for considering other options.” Word.

Jerusalem Date and Greens Salad, Adapted from Jerusalem: A Cookbook

Prep time: 20 minutes

Serves: 4-5

1 tbs wine vinegar
1/2 medium purple onion, thinly sliced and chopped
5-7 Medjool dates, pitted and chopped
1 tsp salt

1 tbs butter
2 small pitas or any bread you have laying around, torn into 1 1/2 -inch pieces
1 tbs poppy seeds
1/2 cup almonds, pumpkin seeds, walnuts (or all) chopped
2 teaspoons sumac
1/2 teaspoon chile flakes

5 handfuls of arugula or mixed greens (the original recipes calls for 5 to 6 ounces baby spinach leaves)
2 oz goat cheese feta, crumbled
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tbs good olive oil

Put vinegar, onion, salt and dates in a small bowl. Leave to marinate for 20 minutes and drain any residual vinegar. Discard vinegar.

Heat butter in pan over medium heat. Add pita and fry until golden. Add poppy seeds, almonds and whatever other nuts use choose, continuously stirring until pita is crunchy and nuts are toasted and fragrant. Remove from heat and mix in sumac, chile flakes and a pinch of salt. Let cool.

When ready to serve, toss spinach leaves, pita mix, dates and red onion and feta with olive oil, lemon juice and pinch of salt. Serve immediately.

The recipe below is one I made up in a last-minute effort to clean out my kitchen space. It also reeks Jerusalem. The dominant flavors – rich tahini, spiky zatar, surprisingly warm- spiced chickpeas – are familiar to all Jerusalemites (the tofu part… not so much). Don’t be scared by the list of ingredients… it’s long, but this dish is worth it.

Tahini Roasted Vegetables with Crispy Chickpeas and Baked Tofu

Prep time: 1-2 hours

Serves: 7 – 10 as a side, 4-7 as a main

3 medium sized carrots, peeled and sliced lengthwise into strips
3 cups (one large box) of cherry tomatoes, halved
2 medium purple onions, chopped into 1/2 in pieces
2 medium eggplants, chopped into 1 inch chunks
1 tbs olive oil
salt
pepper
juice and zest of one lemon

2 cups chick peas, cooked (or canned) and drained
1 tbs olive oil
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/tsp cumin
pinch of cayenne powder or chili flake
salt to taste

1 (or more) 16 oz box of extra firm tofu
1 (or more) tbs olive oil
salt
sumac
zatar

4 heaping tbs crude tahini
1/3 cup toasted sesame seeds
sprinkle of sumac
sprinkle of zatar

Preheat oven to 250 degrees (use convection setting if you can). Toss carrots, tomatoes and onions in olive oil, salt and pepper and lay flat on baking sheet (preferably lined with parchment paper). Allow to slowly roast in oven for about 35 – 50 minutes until tomatoes are wrinkled, onions are browned, eggplant is soft and carrot edges are crisp. Check frequently – it turns from browned to burnt quickly! When done, mix with lemon juice and zest. Allow to cool.

While your veggies are in the oven, mix cinnamon, cumin, cayenne, salt and olive oil. Add chickpeas until coated. Lay flat on baking sheet covered in parchment paper. Set aside.

Up the oven to 350 once veggies are done.

Remove the tofu from its packaging and pat dry with paper towels. Cut tofu into cubes and allow excess liquid to drain. While draining, prepare mixture of olive oil, zatar, sumac and salt. Mix tofu cubes with the zatar mixture so that each cube of tofu is covered with a green powder coating. Lay flat on baking sheet covered in parchment paper.

Bake tofu and chickpeas (on separate baking sheets) until golden and crispy at 350 – this should take 30 – 50 minutes. The zatar and cinnamon will make your kitchen smell heavenly.

After it’s all out of the oven, toss everything together with 2 tbs tahini and sesame seeds. Drizzle remaining tahini over top. Dust the final product with pinches of sumac and zatar and serve.

♦ The Life Force Persists

Posted on July 9, 2014 by estherschuster

Dear Shaina,
I am deeply saddened by all that has been and is going on in Israel. I am saddened by all the losses, the terror, and the inevitable fear experienced by all who must endure the fallout of extremism. I am mostly saddened that we, as human beings, can’t simply agree to keep our children safe. I believe that is what we all want.

Despite the state of the the world, the individual life force persists. We go to sleep each night (sometimes not so easily), get up each morning, put one foot in front of the other and chop more vegetables to satisfy our ever renewed need for food and drink. Although chopping vegetables may not be enough, it’s goes a long way toward nurturing the life force…and that’s no small thing.

We just celebrated Independence Day for America, a holiday that celebrates individual and political freedoms guaranteed for all. There are many in this country, still, that would claim that this dream has not yet been fulfilled for everyone. It seems so simple and logical…equality and freedom…wouldn’t we all be better off? Yet we somehow insist on playing the top-dog/bottom-dog game; scratching our way, desperately, violently, inhumanely, to maintain this skewed balance. I am most saddened because I see no way out. We have always counted on the next generation to have a clearer vision. That is my prayer for you as you continue on your life’s journey.

This year we celebrated the Fourth of July downtown at Railroad Park amidst a diverse Birmingham crowd listening to a Smooth jazz concert. It was Birmingham at its best! It had a City Stages feel, but a lot more relaxed and spacious as we stretched out on the open grassy hill facing the stage. Trains rolled by slowly as the sun set painting the city skyscape a rainbow of orange and magenta hues. Even the food turned out pretty good. This may be the beginning of a new Fourth of July tradition.

Sunday afternoon I left for a girl’s spend-the-night at the lake to play mahjong. I am glad to hear that you had a little mahjong exposure over the weekend with your cousins. I can’t think of a better pastime for Israelis. Mahjong is the perfect distraction for this overanxious mom. I need all my brain cells to play and have no room for intrusive worry thoughts.

Shaina, this is your last five weeks in Israel before your brief stop in Birmingham on your way to the next chapter of your life. Our home, like yours, is in a state of transitional disorder. Although not always comfortable, it does force you to experience new edges. For us, it means sifting through and throwing out and making choices about what is important and meaningful in our lives. I guess that’s a process that never changes no matter how old you get.

I hope your remaining weeks in Israel hold some moments of peace and that this year leaves you with many rich memories. Most of all, I pray for your safety and welfare and your safe return home. I may be scheduling lots of mahjong games over the next few weeks to distract me from my worrying mind.

French Tarragon From Dad’s Garden

Love,
Mom
xooxoxoxoxooxoxxoxoxoxoxo

Fourth of July Fare

Easy Tarragon Potato Salad

3 lbs small red potatoes
4 scallions or 1/3 cup purple onions, sliced or chopped
1/2 cup pitted calamata olives, halved

Dressing

3/4 cup mayonnaise
Juice and zest of one fresh lemon
2 – 3 tablespoons of fresh French tarragon (finely chopped) or 1tablespoon of dried tarragon
salt and pepper to taste

Boil potatoes in salted water until just done. Cool under cold water.
The potato skins may be left on or peeled off. When potatoes are cooled cut in bite-sized pieces and place in a large bowl.
Cut up scallions into quarter inch slices and add to the potatoes.
Slice the olives in half and add to the potatoes and onions.
Place mayonnaise in a bowl and stir in lemon juice, tarragon and salt and pepper to taste. Blend thoroughly.
Pour mayonnaise mixture over potato mixture and mix until potatoes are covered. Adjust seasonings.
Refrigerate until you are ready to serve.
This dish tastes even better the next day.

Easy Bok Choy Slaw

1 pound of baby bok choy, cut up in thin slices
4 carrots, grated or shredded
4 scallions, sliced
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds

Dressing

1/4 cup rice vinegar
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
2 teaspoons sugar or sugar substitute
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 teaspoon hot chili sauce
Juice and zest of one fresh lime
Salt and pepper to taste

Place sliced bok choy, grated carrots and cut up scallions in a large bowl.
Whisk together the remaining ingredients in a small bowl.
Pour dressing over the vegetables and toss until all vegetables are covered.
Adjust seasonings. Top with toasted sesame seeds.

◊ Chopping Vegetables Is Not Enough

Posted on June 27, 2014 by shainashealy

Dear mom,

Chopping vegetables is not enough. This is what I came to in a moment of self-realization while studying for my Arabic exam. And also that I need to work on my stress-management.

Here’s what happened:

Jessica and I went for a study-break walk. She asked me if I was excited about starting new grad school next year. My Yes was wobbly.

Actually, I’m really nervous, I admitted. Like, right now I’m nervous about exams and I’m nervous about finding a new place to live when we get kicked out of our apartment, but the thought of school next year hits the nerves at my core.

Why?

Because it is everything.

Two years ago, I was on the path to social work like every other woman in my family.* Then I decided to take a risk – to do something different. Thanks to you and dad (thank you thank you thank you thank you), I can do whatever I want to do.

Now, I’m at the cusp of a dream and I see two possibilities: Picasso and a homeless guy sketching tourists on the side-walk. Failure and success. I already feel homeless about to walk into a museum. It’s messed up. There is a balance between the two, I know.

I’m nervous I won’t recognize it.

After my walk with Jessica, I sat down with study gear feeling completely overwhelmed – gritting my teeth over case endings, sweating over verbal forms. I told myself that in 3 hours I’d take a kitchen break to deal with the freezer full of nuts and flours I needed to finish before moving out of the apartment. I couldn’t wait to numb my mind over a chopping board and mixing bowl.

I looked at my Arabic worksheets and thought, why?

I love being in the kitchen – I can chop vegetables with a wide smile on my face for hours. I don’t need Arabic; I need to chop vegetables.

Again, Why?

It’s a meditation. I don’t think, I just chop. I move, I mix, I create. My brain is relaxed.

But it’s not enough. I want to do work that fulfills my desire to make a positive impact on the world. I want to learn about people and their worlds and show those worlds to more and more people. I want to explore. But this often gives me stomachaches.

What if I could sustain my brain relaxation in everything I do?

Thus, my realization:

I need to bring the same attitude with which I approach chopping vegetables to the fulfilling work that I love to do. I will smile at my lists of Arabic vocab; I will not grit my teeth as I write my Islamic Law essay; I will not sweat (but I probably will) over Sufi elements of Persian Art. And when I start classes next fall, I will not try to be Picasso nor will I fear being homeless.

I think this is called stress-management.

In the kitchen, if bread doesn’t rise, I repurpose it into crackers; if vegetables are too spicy, I stir in yogurt to cool them down; if a grain bowl is too salty, I add more rice and water. My love for the kitchen isn’t about eating food, it’s about preparing it. It’s about problem-solving, creativity and building things with my own hands all with a relaxed mind and body.

In the next phase of my professional life, I want a brain like I’m in the kitchen. It’s a long-shot — I’m clenching my jaw just thinking about course registration — but slowly slowly shwai shwai I hope to make do. I don’t want to get stuck chopping vegetables to stay sane. It is not enough for me.

xo,

Shaina

*To the women in my family – the social workers and teachers who do amazing things for the world every day – I dream of having a career as fulfilling as yours.

Warning: the recipes below involve lots and lots of chopping, mixing, grating, mashing and kneading. I really needed it this week.

Seedy Carrot Rye Loaf

1 packet of active dry yeast
1½ cups warm water
1 tsp honey (optional)
1 tbsp sea salt
4 medium carrots, grated
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup pumpkin seeds
1/2 cup walnuts, crushed
1/3 cup poppy seeds
1/3 cup sesame seeds
1/3 cup sunflower seeds
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup rye flour
1 cup spelt (or wheat) flour

Dissolve yeast in warm water and add all ingredients except for flour. Add flour slowly, kneading the dough. If it needs more flour, add little by little. Spread into two 8 inch tins.

Cover tins with cloth or towel for at least 60 minutes and allow to rise. Mine didn’t do such a good job of rising, but it still turned out ok.

Bake at 400 degrees for 20 – 30 minutes.

Smear with butter, tahini or your favorite something. Pop it in the toaster and make an open faced sandwich. Serve as breadsticks next to salad. Treat yourself luxuriously and top it with whole milk yogurt.

Hearty Banana-Date-Tahini Cake (Dairy-Free and No-Added Sugar):

Ingredients:

2 cups oats,
1 1/2 cup rye flour or spelt
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1 vanilla bean, seeded (or 1 tsp pure vanilla extract)

15 pitted dates, mashed into date paste
3 tbsp coconut oil, melted (or other light tasting oil)
4 tbs tahini
3 medium very ripe bananas, peeled and mashed
1/4 cup almond milk
4 eggs (or 2 eggs and 3 egg whites)

Optional fold-in’s:
1/2 cup dark chocolate pieces
2 ripe bananas, cut into chunks
7-10 pitted dates, chopped
handful of walnuts, chopped

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350F and grease an 8 inch dish or pan. In a large bowl, mix the dry ingredients. In another bowl, mix the wet ingredients. Stir until combined and fold in banana chunks, choco chunks, dates, nuts or whatever you choose.

Spread into pan and bake for 20-30 minutes at 350F or until a toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool.

♦ Comings and Goings

Posted on June 20, 2014 by estherschuster

Dear Shaina,

Please let Naomi know how much I enjoyed her guest post. Bubbe would be so proud! Bubbe’s immortality is clearly evident in both of you. Sharing the gifts of food, family and fun wrapped in love are surely the path to immortality for all of us.

Speaking of fun (again), Shaina, certainly you know that it’s not the quality of alcohol, nor the quantity, that makes the fun! Fun is in your DNA. It’s about your spirit and desire to taste the many flavors of experience that life has to offer. It is about the ability to enjoy what is pleasurable and to endure what is challenging and to not run from either. You have mastered that ability so well that you have a tendency to gorge on the massive array of offerings at life’s all-inclusive buffet.

I know you’re exhausted. You set yourself up for an all-the-time, on-the-go, pressure-packed last few months in Israel. I am not surprised by any of it. I have to remind myself not to worry. I know that you will manage it, as you always do. You will let go of those things that matter less. You will successfully accomplish your goals and you will be sad to leave it all. After a brief break in the home-nest, you will regain your equilibrium, go off to Berkeley and start all over again. We all have our coming and going and being patterns. I am impressed that you recognize them at such a young age. I look forward to the day when you are in one place for more than one year. Maybe even long enough for us to gather all your stuff currently scattered from coast to coast and deliver it to a place that you might consider home, for at least awhile.

Cleaning Out

Your pictures from Israel are beautiful and comforting to me. They provide a small window into your life so far away. They are reassuring, affirming and ease my worry a bit. I am cleaning out our bedroom in preparation for our master bath renovation (it begins Monday!) and encountering mountains of old pictures. It’s getting easier to get rid of clothes and stuff than I ever thought imaginable.

The Many Faces of Shaina

But the pictures have a deep hold on me…and there are so many of them. There is nothing in my life that is so tangible and yet inextricably intertwined with intangible feelings and memories than these pictures. It feels sacrilegious to throw any picture away. They warm my heart with joy and love and raise new doubts and questions. Was I a good mother? Did I neglect my family? Do you ever really know what’s going on behind a smiling face? I found high school pictures of me and baby pictures of you. How can so many picture-years accumulate in such a short time? I can’t let them go. So back into the boxes. Someday, they’ll be your problem.

Despite your stress, you seem happy and healthy and very active. I hope your final papers and exam cramming will slow you down in these last months. I seem to worry less when you move more slowly. Slower is always better for enjoying the moment and keeping you from smashing into boulders. I hope Naomi’s head is healed and that she is moving at a more moderate pace also. I am sending prayers and angels to watch over your every move especially on those across-the-country hikes and jogging escapades.

Love,
Mom
xooxoxoxoxoxooxoxo

P.S. Thanks for getting Dad a Fitbit. After years of trying to get him to go for a walk with me, now he’s asking me to go for a walk with him because he hasn’t met his Fitbit goal. It’s amazing how an inanimate digital object can so quickly and easily direct a human being’s habits. I am reminded of the tamagotchi of your childhood.

Almond Fig Fruit and Nut Bars
Any kind of fruit…any kind of nut!

I was cleaning out the freezers and came upon some frozen fresh figs which had been there for longer than I care to recall. I remember your dad picking them and how delicious they were fresh off the tree. I decided to defrost them and cook them and see if I could make something out of them. Once I started, there was no stopping me. I found leftover bits of weird flours, dried fruits and organic nuts (remnants of your visit) in the freezer. I decided to make some kind of fig bar and committed to try and use up as many little bits of leftover stuff I could find. The results were a pretty tasty and healthy Almond Fig Fruit and Nut Bar. Really almost any fruit will do and certainly any kind of nut, so feel free to experiment.

Fruit Filling

1 gallon bag of fresh frozen figs (this could be made with fresh figs)
1 cup of dried fruit, any kind (apricots, prunes, raisins, dates or a mixture of all)
1 orange, juice and zest
1 lemon, juice and zest
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons almond extract
1 teaspoon vanilla
lightly sweeten to taste with agave, honey, Splenda or sugar (optional)

Bring fruit, juice and zest to a boil in a large pot. Reduce heat and cook over a low flame, stirring periodically, until mixture has reduced and thickened.

Add spices, extracts and sweetener if desired. Adjust to taste. Continue cooking until mixture is thickened but can still be poured. Any leftover fresh fruits you have around can be thrown in; bananas, peaches, grapes, etc. More lemon or orange juice can be added based on your taste preferences.

Dough

1 1/2 cups of any flour or mixture of flours
1 1/2 cups regular oats, uncooked
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons of sugar or Splenda (optional)
1 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 sticks butter (12 tablespoons), room temperature
1/2 cup kefir, plain yogurt or buttermilk
2 cups crushed nuts, any kind

Combine the first seven ingredients and then cut in the butter with a pastry blender until mixture resembles a course meal.
Add 1 1/4 cup of the chopped nuts to the flour-butter mixture, reserving 3/4 cup nuts for the topping.

Divide the mixture in half and set aside half for the topping. Do not mix with the extra nuts.

Add the kefir or yogurt or any kind of sour milk to the remaining flour-butter mixture and mix thoroughly until it takes on a doughy texture. Add more milk or yogurt if it is still too crumbly.

Press doughy mixture into a greased 9” x 13” baking dish covering the bottom of the baking dish.

Bake in a 350° oven for 20-30 minutes or until bottom crust is lightly browned.

Remove from the oven and spread fig-nut mixture thickly covering the entire bottom crust.

Top with remaining crumbly dough mixture and sprinkle remaining nuts over dough crumbles.
Sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top if desired.

Continue baking in a 350° oven until the top has browned and the filling is bubbly, about 30 to 40 minutes.

Cool and cut into bars. To cut in diamond shapes, start at the upper right corner and cut from the top to the side on an angle, making your first piece a triangle. Cut the remaining pieces on the same angle all the way down the length of the pan. Then go back to the top of the pan and begin making horizontal cuts across the pan starting about an inch and a half from the top and continue making horizontal cuts all the way down the pan. Hope this makes sense.

This makes a great pre or post exercise energy bar and an easy nutritious breakfast bar, not to mention all the added fiber benefits.

Another variation…

This recipe comes from one of my yoga teachers who also happens to be a fabulous cook. It’s a South African recipe called Farfel Cake, although I am not sure why. It doesn’t have all the energy boosting nuts and healthy oats and flours, but makes a delicious dessert nonetheless. I made the dough with Splenda and used the same fig/fruit mixture as above and added some sliced almonds to the top instead of powdered sugar. It is beautiful and absolutely delicious when made just as the recipe describes.

Farfel Cake

10 tablespoons of butter
½ cup sugar
1 tablespoon oil
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups flour
pinch salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
smooth apricot jam

Method (I use a food processor for making dough)
Cream butter, sugar and oil. Add unbeaten egg and process. Add flour and rest of ingredients (except jam) to mixture. Make a firm dough. Grate half of
the mixture into a well-buttered pie dish or springform pan. Put a layer
of jam over it – I use most of a small bottle; then grate rest of dough over the jam and bake at 350° for about one hour. When cool, sprinkle with confectioners sugar. Cut and serve.

Guest Post from a Cousin

Posted on June 16, 2014 by shainashealy

Dear Esther,

After returning bloody, bruised, and blistered from our Yam L’Yam Shvis Shvil, Shaina and I were determined to cook a Shvis Shabbat feast (Shvis = Shavuot in Bubbe language). We wanted to remember Bubbe, but didn’t have the time or energy to make her blintzes – we could barely walk after 75 kilometers of climbing steep hills, walking through dry wadis and scurrying around (or into) boulders in just one and two half days! So, we opted for her sweet kugel instead.

Finding the right kind of noodles was the first challenge. FYI, there are no Manischewitz brand “wide egg noodles” here in Israel. The closest thing I could find was a slightly different, thicker type of egg noodle, which I think ended up making the kugel a bit denser than I would have liked. Long story short, this recipe is easy, but if you try making it healthy-“ish” it just doesn’t work (as we learned the hard way!). Bubbe didn’t skimp out on her use of “hoil” and eggs – neither should you if you attempt to make this one at home.

Shaina,

What am I going to do without you, my kambuchi kitchen goddess, next year? I’m already getting sad you are leaving in just 2 months. On the upside, I know great things are about to come your way! And with that, here’s to more Schuster-Shealy Israeli adventures both in and outside of the kitchen!

Love, Naomi.

Bubbe’s Sweet Kugel

2 packages Wide Egg Noodles (Manischewitz brand is preferable, if available)
1 lemon (juice and zest)
1 orange (juice and zest)
3 green apples, diced (I used 4, some green, some red—depends if you like tart or sweet and what is in
season)
1-2 cups raisins (Bubbe didn’t actually ever measure—so just eyeball it)
2 cups sugar
6 eggs, beaten (I used 2 eggs and 4 egg whites but the egg whites didn’t hold the kugel together so
well…)
4-5 tsps. Vanilla (once again, according to personal preference)
Cinnamon to taste (I use A LOT!!)
Canola Oil (for pan) and maybe add some to kugel as well if you want to truly cook like Bubbe!

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (180 degrees Celsius). Boil noodles until a little less than fully cooked (they shouldn’t be hard but not so soft they are falling apart); Drain. In a separate bowl mix together diced apples, raisins, sugar, lemon zest, and orange zest. Add noodles to this mixture. Then add lemon juice, orange juice, vanilla, and cinnamon. Stir in eggs.

Heat a tablespoon or two of oil (canola) in bottom of 13 x 9 x 2 glass baking dish for a few minutes until it starts to bubble/pop. Pour noodle mixture into prepared ban. Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar. Cover with aluminum foil and bake for approximately 30 minutes. Let cool. Can be served at room temperature or re-heated in the microwave.

◊ One-Year Trap

Posted on May 30, 2014 by shainashealy

Dear mom,

I know, I know… You and dad are always having more fun than me. I feel lame when people ask me what my parents are like and I tell them stories about your partying/party-throwing. I can’t keep up. Maybe when I have the resources to buy better alcohol I’ll be better at drinking it.

In my last letter, I told you about my self-induced pressure to do a million things. It’s happening. And the exhaustion is catching up with me.

View from the road to Jericho

Yesterday, I met Ayla in Tel Aviv and had a nice beach day visiting friends. The day before that was Student Day, which I celebrated at a huge outdoor concert festival until sunrise. Last weekend, after another beach day in Tel Aviv, Naomi came to Jerusalem and we walked from here to Jericho… over 30 kilometers! The weekend before that, I went to Hebron to collect embroidery from craftswomen with Najla, a woman from Bethlehem who has been teaching me about Palestinian embroidery. Then, Arielle arrived and we hosted Shabbat dinner and hiked Wadi Qelt. On top of all the adventures, I signed up for two additional intensive courses. So right now I’m taking 9 classes plus 12 hours of Arabic a week.

My goal for this weekend is to relax and recover. Shanti.

goats!

Also, I made the decision that I will never again live somewhere for only one year. Two years is the minimum (unless something/someone convinces me otherwise… it happens sometimes).

I haven’t lived in the same place for more than one consecutive year since I was a sophomore in college (2007), and I’m not sure if it counts since I went home during summers. Since high school my life has been Alabama → DC → Uganda/Bolivia/Netherlands → DC → India → DC → India → Alabama → Israel.

I’m so familiar with the one-year thing that I’ve traced a predictable pattern. The first three months are uncomfortable: I work hard to learn the ropes, navigate life and develop relationships (I’m slow). I buy things from the market that I don’t recognize (like sumac) and try to figure how to incorporate them into my salads. The 2nd three months are bliss: I’ve established a routine, have friends and am in the thick of exploration and excitement. I buy things from the market that I’ve learned to love like wine soaked olives. The third three months are weird: I realize that goodbyes are approaching, but it’s not time yet. I buy only fresh produce from the market because I know I have a drawer full of weird spices and dried beans that I need to use before departing. The last weeks are a whirlwind: celebrations, goodbyes and preparations. I only buy easy street food like falafel.

Now, in the mid-third-three-months-stage, I prioritize my activities and question their worthiness of my time. Does this Arabic article translation deserve three hours of my Wednesday night? No.

By now, I’ve established relationships and identified meaningful projects, but it’s too late to invest new energy in them. I know it’s wrong, but in the back of my head all I can think of is how leaving will disrupt everything. And then I turn into a crazy person trying to fit all of the little pieces in. One year is the worst.

xo,

Shaina

Cucumber Feta Walnut Salad

5-7 small persian cucumbers, sliced into matchstick pieces
half cup crumbled feta
1/2 cup (handful) fresh dill, chopped
1/2 cup (handful) fresh parsely, chopped
1/3 cup currants or golden raisins
1 tbs good olive oil
juice of one lemon
zest of one lemon
1 tbs powdered soumac
sea salt to taste
fresh ground black pepper to taste
1/2 cup toasted walnuts, broken

Gently throw sliced cucumbers, herbs, currants/raisins and feta into a bowl. Mix olive oil, lemon juice and zest, soumac, salt and pepper in separate vessel. Pour oil mixture over the salad and gently toss. Top with walnuts and serve immediately. Or place in the fridge and serve chilled on a hot summer day.

This salad was an attempt to use some of the weird spices sitting in my drawer since the first three months. It’s the perfect summer salad – cool and refreshing with lively herbs.

See more things I’ve been doing: