lonely Jews on Christmas /giveaway winner

Y’s family was once interviewed by the paper to answer the timeless question: what do Jews do on Christmas? Since the paper thought an entire city might want the answer to that mystery, I thought I’d shed some light on the topic for my readers.


Spoiler alert: have you ever been hanging out on a Sunday, bored out of your mind, whining about about how there’s nothing to do except go to the movies? That’s Christmas. 




Except this year, it was dark and rainy outside and I was glad not to have an excuse to put down my book and get out of my sparkly pajamas.  This and catching up on How I Met Your Mother took up approximately 90% of the day. The other 10% was spent inserting Ike’s name to the tune of the How I Met Your Mother theme song. 


At sundown we lit our menorah because we were jealous of all the people celebrating. And because it was the 6th night of Chanukah. 





“Classic” Jewish Christmas dinner: Chinese food. (I’m now realizing that putting the dog in the collage may have been a poor choice.)  We purposely ate this because everyone expects Jews to eat Chinese on Christmas and we think it’s funny to indulge fantasy stereotypes. I can’t speak for everyone, but I think the tradition has reached the point of only being observed to be ironic — clearly we could have made something non-Chinese, but what would be the fun in that? In the spirit of being completely lazy, we put towels on the bed and ate there while watching Limitless. Ike was obviously invited.

(PS: [non-authentic] Chinese food recipe (it’s Y’s favorite dinner) + a blog post from the Smithsonian about Jews/Chinese food)

And for dessert? My favorite cold weather treat: peppermint white hot chocolate. 



To recap: reading, soy sauce, Bradley Cooper, warm indulgent drinks. Just your average Sunday. 

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Congrats to MB for winning a few of my favorite things! I’ll be sure to share what they were as soon as I know MB received the package – I wish I could send all of you presents 🙂

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randomosity


Yeah, I know – 2 blogs in a row with a wedding picture. You probably think I’m sitting at my computer in my wedding dress, staring blankly at my pictures while stuffing frozen wedding cake in my mouth. You might be right. Or you might not. I’ll just let you imagine.

Regardless, I was inspired to post that picture by something I read yesterday in Glamour magazine’s “What men are really thinking” feature.

Sidenote: I’m tempted to give up on Glamour. How many ways are there to say that whole grain bread is better than white bread? That runway styles can be adapted to real life? That your significant other doesn’t care about cellulite and ps there is no cure but a tan can make it less obvious but omg not a real tan our MD says so. But I can’t stop reading it. Pretty. Pictures. Must. Buy.

Anyway, men were asked what they were thinking as their future bride walked down the aisle and I’m pretty sure Lorin from Sacramento and I share a brain.

“Well, I’m Jewish and Kristen is Asian and Jewish, so it occurred to me that when we have kids, we should definitely have dumplings at their bar mitzvahs.”

I mean, not that I thought that as I walked down the aisle. But you should HEAR some of the similar stuff that my brain comes up with, at the most inopportune moments. Maybe one day I’ll share. But not until after my frozen wedding cake, thanks.

wifely duties

If you were at our wedding, you might remember our ketubah (marriage contract):


Do you see that bolded line near the top? It says, in English,
learn how to make chicken soup.

Okay, fine, it says my name in Hebrew. But it might as well say that somewhere, in some kind of guide to being a Jewish wife.

I just got a cookbook from the fabulous Mother’s, a restaurant in Portland where we ate the best matzah ball soup and challah french toast for lunch. Their recipe for chicken soup seemed like a legit place to start.

But wait.

Did you know you have to hold a raw chicken to make chicken soup? A whole chicken? GROSS. The only experience I have ever had with one of those suckers was to know that you should grab as many as you can when you are a contestant on Supermarket Sweep.

Anyway, despite my disgust for meat in the same shape it was when it breathed, I forged on. And it was not pretty – the chicken, or my face.

Worth it? Yes. Mother’s chef Lisa Schroder’s chicken soup recipe here.