Dave is…
Basking in brisket.
I got so wrapped up in ranting about Catholicism that I didn’t have space to talk about the important part of my day which saw me train it out to CT to resume a tradition that was interrupted by my travels last year: Passover Seder at my parent’s.
I’m told it’s a mitzvah to bring a gentile to Passover. Well if more mitzvahs involved brisket I’d be a kosher guinea pig every day of the year. I’m not kidding there have been years when Lou and I have done our level best to cause a double digit spike in brisket futures. I’ve even come to appreciate matzo ball soup. Still draw the line at Gefilte fish though. Looks like death, tastes like worse.
Still it’s a hell of a meal when topped off with some amazing homemade chocolate covered macaroons, peanut brittle, and this year, an amazing looking homemade fruit bouquet.
But as amazing as that brisket is it pales in comparison to the overall dinner experience. The Pesach, the Moror, long dissertations on the tomb like living conditions of the guards at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the shank bone, several generations of awesomely crazy Briers, Willa the dog fighting Michael to lead the meal, the four questions, yarmulkes (I look so rakish in them.) and dozens of Pee-Wee Herman jokes. I can’t remember how he came up originally but I could not stop referring to him. Honestly, me and another Passoverer got to the point where we were crying we were laughing so hard. Ultimately, Michael revoked my yarmulke over it. That’s a parent’s tough love right there.
But the Briers followed that by bequeathing me my very own bathrobe, a wondrous blue fleece garment from heaven. I might never take this off, though I expect it’d garner some looks on the subway. It felt great on the ride back to the city (also lovingly arranged by my surrogate folks). After today I am seriously considering this whole Jewish thing. I mean all Catholicism ever gave me was a weekly wafer that tasted like cardboard and an old guy with an overblown sense of authority who may or may not have been a Nazi. All Judaism has given me is my weight in brisket and the kind of bathrobe Jesus would renounce religion for. Something to consider.