So why not make a honey cake that is something special to see in the New Year? Special… spectacular! A round, sweet year!Īnd on every holiday table, to end every holiday meal, a traditional honey cake, a favorite family recipe, a variation of every other one.
Apple slices eaten, fingers licked, we would listen as our teacher explained the significance of the sweet apples and honey. Concentrated on the paper plate as we were, ever-fearful that it would tip and flop over, visions of apples tumbling to the floor, the honey perched on the tip of our own slice would slither down our fingers, leaving a sweet sticky remembrance of this special New Year treat.
Sitting in the classrooms behind the synagogue on those chilly folding metal chairs, we would pass around that paper plate, balance it on one small hand while choosing one slick slice of apple, dip it in the shimmering golden honey and proffer the plate to our neighbor. How many plates of apples and honey do I remember after how many New Year’s services at the synagogue when I was a child! Flimsy paper plates, too fragile to hold the weight of all of those slices of apples. New fruits enhance the meal and, of course, apples and honey, wishes for the round sweet year to come. The traditional braided Challah is twisted and shaped into a round, enriched with eggs, yes, but honey, ground almonds, and raisins, making it sweet for the New Year. A celebration dinner, a table laden with homemade treats, special holiday foods and dishes rich with symbolism and history. – Walter Scottīut it is the New Year, a time of joy, remembrance, and renewal. And mine, since that September morning six years ago, is heavy with sadness, intertwined with something mournful and pensive.Įach age has deemed the new-born year the fittest time for festal cheer. The New Year is a time of promises and rebirth, of life and celebration. Or maybe it is that the New Year is bittersweet since the death of Michael, buried on the Jewish New Year six years ago. And there is still another six weeks of high season left. Quite possibly it is that it is nearing, but not quite, the end of our first season at the hotel it is hard to believe that we are well into our eighth month running the Diderot and this first high season has been exhilarating, yes, but utterly exhausting. Maybe it is the sudden oncoming of the storms and the oppressive mugginess, the unexpected chill in the air. The Jewish New Year edges its way through the tail end of summer, pushes through the last warm days and the start of the rain, bringing with it something melancholy. Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, ‘It will be happier.’ – Alfred Lord Tennyson
0 kommentar(er)
