A Recipe for Torah: Finding Meaningful Judaism in the Kitchen
Summary
TLDRIn this reflective narrative, a rabbinical student recounts how a one-night-only pop-up restaurant during Passover reignited his passion for cooking, blending his identities as a chef and rabbi. The experience opened his eyes to the meaningful intersection of great cuisine and Jewish culture, leading him to embrace food as a part of his rabbinate. Through his journey, he emphasizes the holistic and sensory aspects of Jewish practice, inviting others to explore spirituality through cooking and community, challenging traditional religious dichotomies, and finding fulfillment in integrating the physical with the spiritual.
Takeaways
- 🍽️ The speaker fulfilled a dream by opening a restaurant while attending rabbinical school, combining two passions.
- 👨🍳 Despite leaving the culinary world for rabbinical school, the speaker felt a strong pull back to the kitchen.
- 🎉 They hosted a successful one-night kosher-for-Passover pop-up restaurant in a synagogue, sparking a connection between food and faith.
- 🤝 A guest expressed how much she loved the fusion of great cuisine and Jewish culture, which made the speaker realize the connection between the two.
- 🧠 Before this event, the speaker had only thought of restaurants and the rabbinate as metaphors for hospitality, but food became a tangible part of the spiritual practice.
- ⏳ The speaker initially saw the restaurant as a one-time event, but the experience opened new doors for integrating food into Jewish life and practice.
- 🍰 During the event, the speaker questioned when they were cooking like a chef and when like a rabbi, reflecting on the deeper meaning of their work.
- 🌀 The speaker realized they could blend the roles of chef and rabbi, seeing them as complementary rather than separate identities.
- 👥 The event also highlighted the importance of community, hospitality, and creating meaningful Jewish experiences beyond just prayer or study.
- 🌍 The speaker emphasizes that everyone, regardless of culinary or rabbinical training, can engage in Judaism through food, merging sensory experiences with spiritual practice.
Q & A
What motivated the speaker to open a restaurant during rabbinical school?
-Despite initially thinking that his life as a chef was behind him, the speaker felt a strong pull back to the world of cooking, leading him to open a one-night-only kosher-for-Passover popup restaurant in a synagogue.
How did the speaker feel about combining his roles as a rabbi and a chef?
-Initially, the speaker saw his role as a chef and a rabbi as separate, but after the popup restaurant experience, he realized that both could coexist and be part of his rabbinate. He became more open to integrating the two roles.
What was the significance of the woman from the northern suburb in the story?
-The woman’s enthusiasm for the food and Jewish culture helped the speaker realize that he could combine his passion for cooking with his rabbinical duties, influencing his decision to continue hosting such events.
How did the speaker’s perception of the popup restaurant evolve throughout the event?
-The speaker initially thought the popup restaurant was a final expression of his chef days, but as the night progressed, he recognized that cooking and hospitality could be a meaningful part of his rabbinate.
What parallels did the speaker draw between cooking and being a rabbi?
-The speaker made metaphoric connections between cooking and rabbinical service, noting that both involve hospitality, service, and creating meaningful experiences. Eventually, he saw cooking itself as an integral part of his rabbinate.
What realization did the speaker have when serving dessert during the event?
-While serving flourless chocolate cake, the speaker reflected on how cooking that night felt different, transitioning from cooking as a chef to cooking as a rabbi. He was uncertain but intrigued by the new role he was taking on.
What is the speaker’s view on the importance of food in Jewish practice?
-The speaker believes that food has always been central to Jewish practice, even from the time of the Exodus. He argues that food should not be separated from Jewish religious experiences and that it can serve as a meaningful doorway into Jewish life.
Why does the speaker reject the dichotomy between physical and spiritual practices in Judaism?
-The speaker argues that separating physical (e.g., food) and spiritual (e.g., prayer, study) practices weakens Judaism. He believes that incorporating sensory experiences like cooking into religious life can create a more holistic and embodied Jewish practice.
What advice does the speaker offer to those who may feel disconnected from traditional Jewish practices?
-The speaker suggests looking at everyday objects in the kitchen and considering how they could be used in Jewish practice. He encourages people to see cooking and food preparation as potential Jewish rituals that can deepen their connection to the faith.
How does the speaker describe the potential for cooking to be a spiritual experience?
-The speaker believes that cooking can be as meaningful as traditional Jewish prayer or study. He suggests that preparing and serving food can be a form of prayer or Torah study, leading to a sense of fulfillment and spiritual wholeness.
Outlines
🍽️ Rediscovering the Love for Cooking and Judaism
The speaker shares their unexpected journey back into the culinary world during rabbinical school. Despite believing they had left the restaurant industry behind, a deep pull led them to open a kosher-for-passover pop-up restaurant. A chance encounter with a dining guest, who praised the combination of great food and Jewish culture, made the speaker realize that food could become an integral part of their rabbinate. This moment was a turning point, revealing the blending of their identities as both a chef and a rabbi, despite initially thinking this would be their last foray into the restaurant world.
🥘 Merging Food and Faith in Jewish Life
The speaker reflects on how their pop-up restaurant experience opened a new doorway into Jewish practice. They no longer saw their roles as chef and rabbi as separate but rather as intertwined. They emphasize that food is central to Jewish tradition, connecting it to the Passover meal and the shared experience of eating. The speaker advocates for integrating the physical and sensory aspects of life into Jewish religious practice, urging others to explore their kitchens and rediscover Jewish traditions through cooking, thus making Judaism more holistic and enriching for everyone.
Mindmap
Keywords
💡Rabbinate
💡Kosher-for-Passover
💡Metaphor
💡Jewish Culture
💡Whole-bodied Jewish Practice
💡Service and Hospitality
💡Neilah
💡Community
💡Physical vs. Metaphysical
💡Culinary Art
Highlights
During my first year of rabbinical school, I opened a restaurant, combining my culinary skills and Jewish culture.
After six years working as a chef, I thought that life was behind me, but I felt a strong pull back to the kitchen.
I opened a one-night-only, kosher-for-Passover popup restaurant in a synagogue in Chicago.
A woman who drove an hour to the event loved the combination of great food and Jewish culture and asked if we would do it again.
Without realizing it, I told her that cooking would be part of my rabbinate, even though I had previously thought this would be my last restaurant venture.
I reflected on when I was cooking like a chef and when I started cooking like a rabbi, trying to understand how the two identities blended.
The parallels between restaurants and the rabbinate had always been metaphorical for me, but in this moment, food itself became central.
As I served flourless chocolate cake and dusted it with espresso powder, I realized the importance of integrating both my culinary and rabbinical passions.
The moment felt like a doorway into Jewish life, offering a practice that was substantive, multisensory, and whole-bodied.
I didn’t want to let go of the dream of combining food and Jewish practice, seeing it as a new, meaningful path for my rabbinate.
I wanted to offer my guests more than just food—community, connection, and maybe even Torah.
This experience allowed me to break free from the fragmented identities of chef and rabbi, merging them into a more complete self.
Cooking requires all our senses, and for me, it became the foundation of a Jewish practice that is both rich and moving.
I believe we need to make space in Judaism for the physical and sensory experiences, not just the intellectual or metaphysical.
I invite others to explore Judaism through their kitchens, seeing food as both prayer and Torah, enriching their spiritual lives.
Transcripts
- So during my first year of rabbinical school,
I realized a years-long dream.
I opened a restaurant.
After six years working as a chef,
I entered rabbinical school
thinking that I would never professionally set foot
inside a restaurant kitchen again.
I thought that that world was behind me.
But as time went on,
I felt this really strong pull back to that life,
back to a really long prep shift on my feet,
back to the stove, back to the tight quarters
and the camaraderie that comes with the complicated dance
of a dinner service in a nice restaurant.
So I called up a few of my friends, a rabbi,
and together we opened a one-night-only,
kosher-for-passover, popup restaurant
inside a synagogue social hall
in Hyde Park on the south side of Chicago
during my spring break passover.
(laughter)
And as I'm walking through the sold-out dining room
after serving the main course,
a woman whom I'd never met before waved me over.
And as it turns out, she actually drove
quite a ways to get there,
about an hour from a far northern suburb.
And she just sort of, like,
gushed at me when I got to her seat.
And she was like, "this is so good!
"And I love the food, and these people are so friendly.
"And someone's telling me at the table that you're a rabbi.
"So, like, what direction is your career going,
"and how do these things meet for you?
"And most importantly, like, are you doing this again?
(laughter)
"Because you're combining two of my favorite things,
"great cuisine and Jewish culture."
And without blinking, I told her,
"Here's my card; stay in touch.
"Of course we're doing more of these.
"This is a part of my rabbinate."
Fancy restaurant meals became in that moment
a part of my rabbinate. (laughter)
And until that precise second when I said those words,
I never thought that that would be true.
I thought the opposite.
This was my last hurrah.
This was the night that I was gonna
get the restaurant bug out of my system,
that I could pack up my knives and fold up my apron,
walk out of that synagogue,
go back to New York and the seminary
satisfied and sort of emotionally ready finally,
a year in, to, like, really go become a rabbi.
So as I said this to her,
and I definitely promised that we would be
doing more of these things, and we have,
I'm walking back to the kitchen with my head just spinning.
How is that even possible
that this is now part of my rabbinate?
Cooking, like specifically food,
until that point I had made many parallels in my mind
between the rabbinate and restaurants,
but they were always reserved for the level of metaphor,
and they always had to do with service and hospitality,
experiences, never about food specifically.
But the way that this dinner guest of mine
at table three talked about it
when she said specifically great food,
great cuisine and Jewish culture,
something about the physical stuff that was in front of her
seemed to be the most important,
and I guess it was for me, too, without realizing it.
So like a good rabbi, I was trying to reflect
on what I had just told this new community member of mine,
but I also have lots of flourless chocolate cake to serve.
So-- (laughter)
We laid down all the plates,
and we put down all the pieces of cake,
and we put the ice cream,
and we dusted it with espresso powder and cocoa powder.
And I started, I told my friends, just get the plates
back into the dining room as quickly as possible.
I was trying to buy myself as much time as I could
to stay in the kitchen by myself and understand
when that night was I cooking like a chef,
and when did I apparently start cooking like a rabbi?
And how substantive was that rabbi?
Was he sort of fudgy and, like, very real like the cake,
or was he more like the espresso powder,
this sort of ethereal, fleeting dusting of a garnish
barely cloaking his food in Torah?
Well, the ice cream is melting.
So I didn't really have an answer.
(laughter) I didn't have much choice.
I walked back into the dining room,
and I looked out at the sea of people
with these plates in my hands.
And when I think back on it, I still, like,
as clear as day feel the buffeting air
from the kitchen door swinging open and closed behind me
and that dull sort of swoosh that it makes
when it crossed the doorframe.
And two thoughts came to my head
very clearly in that moment.
One I knew very well from my time working in restaurants.
Even after my best night's cooking in downtown Chicago,
I would ask myself, was it good enough?
Was the meal worth the price?
And the other I knew from the Neilah,
the final service of Yom Kippur,
when ostensibly the gates of heaven are closing
and our book of life is signed and sealed.
And I asked myself, was I good enough?
Did I make a difference?
And it occurred to me
that the gates were closing on my dream.
I had given myself a one-night-only timeline
to do this restaurant thing.
And I'm looking at the plates,
and I'm thinking about my dinner guests,
and I realized in that moment that there was a new doorway
that I was just, just then seeing for the first time
in the Jewish life and practice
that I'd never seen before.
And when I dropped those last two plates off,
those final seats, I just didn't want to let go.
I didn't want to let go of the dream.
I didn't want to let go of whatever it was
I was beginning to see that could become
maybe a meaningful, not just rabbinate, but Jewish practice,
a doorway into Jewish life
that's substantive, like the cake,
and delicious, like everything that we served that night.
So I walked around the dining room,
and I was just trying to spend a little,
just a smidgen more time with every guest that I could
to give them something more than just food
to leave that night with, whatever that was,
community, essentially just being seen,
maybe Torah, it was probably different
for everyone in the room.
And it was also in that moment,
trying to extend that gate closing,
really, like, fighting against this momentum of time
that I'd set up for myself,
to expand also, I think, who I was,
to allow chef to include rabbi for the first time,
and for rabbi to include chef.
In other words, to allow myself
to not be so fragmented anymore
and really become more whole.
Because cooking requires our whole body.
Every sense that's at our disposal
we use in experiencing food from its raw form
until a dish is completed and we're ready to eat it.
That spectrum of things became, for me,
the foundations of a Jewish practice
that's whole-bodied and multisensory,
very rich and very moving.
I want to just make something very clear.
This is available to you even if you're not a rabbi
who can see sort of the parallels in the texts,
and this is also available to you
if you didn't go to culinary school.
(laughter)
It's for you if you want it.
There's a lot of precedents.
Before the rabbis, before the temple,
before the priests, worshiping God,
celebrating and affirming who we are as Jewish people
started with the meal.
In the moments leading up to the Exodus even,
the most fragile, earliest kernels
of our sense of peoplehood,
the Israelites were commanded
to gather close with one another,
slaughter sheep, roast them, and eat them like kings.
My guest at table three might call that
great cuisine and Jewish culture.
I'm pretty sure that that is the beginning
of a profoundly strong religious identity.
And I think that if we continue to relegate
the physical, the sensory to the level of culture
and only allow the intellect
and sort of the spiritual, the metaphysical
to remain on the level of religious,
then we've set up a false dichotomy that's going to fail us.
We have to, I think we are responsible, all of us,
to make room in Judaism for all of our bodies
and for all of our bodies.
And if you're the kind of person
who has a good spark lit
when they sit with a havruta, a learning partner,
in a beit midrash, a house of study,
with a page of Talmud in front of you,
and that really, really inspires you, that's wonderful.
And if you're a lucky person
who has a really strong prayer life,
the Jewish world is made for you.
But if you're not one of those people,
where else are you gonna go?
And if you're bored with the two things
that do work for you,
and you think that that's all Judaism has,
where are you gonna go?
I invite you to walk into your kitchen,
look around at your pantry,
look around at your kitchen tools,
your pots and pans, your gadgets,
the things you got at your wedding registry
that you never use,
ask yourself, what's Jewish about these things?
What can you do that's Jewish with these things?
Eventually, I think if you were to go back
and open a Chumash, a book of the five books of Moses,
the Torah, whatever you want to call it,
you might not be interested anymore in learning it for law.
Maybe you'll start looking for recipes.
And eventually, the things that you make,
the food that you put on the plates
can become those prayers.
They can become the Torah that you seek to study.
And it might just thrill you,
might leave you a little more whole,
and I'm certain it will leave you a lot more full.
Thank you. (laughter and applause)
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