A Recipe for Torah: Finding Meaningful Judaism in the Kitchen

Summary

In 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

00:00

🍽️ 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.

05:03

🥘 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.

Keywords

💡Rabbinate

The rabbinate refers to the role and responsibilities of a rabbi, a spiritual leader in Judaism. In the script, the speaker explores how their role as a rabbi unexpectedly expands to include cooking and food preparation, blending religious service with culinary art. This evolution of their rabbinate is central to the narrative, as the speaker reflects on how cooking becomes a new form of religious expression.

💡Kosher-for-Passover

Kosher-for-Passover refers to food that adheres to the dietary laws observed during the Jewish holiday of Passover, when leavened products are forbidden. In the script, the speaker opens a one-night-only kosher-for-Passover popup restaurant, demonstrating the intersection of their religious identity and culinary skills. This term emphasizes the speaker's commitment to maintaining religious dietary standards while pursuing their passion for food.

💡Metaphor

Metaphor refers to a figure of speech where one thing is used to represent another, often drawing a comparison. The speaker frequently uses metaphors to relate their experiences as a chef to their role as a rabbi, seeing parallels between the service and hospitality in both fields. This highlights the theme of interconnectedness between seemingly separate aspects of their life.

💡Jewish Culture

Jewish culture encompasses the customs, traditions, and social practices of Jewish people. In the script, a guest praises the speaker for combining 'great cuisine and Jewish culture,' showing how food serves as a vehicle for cultural and religious expression. The speaker begins to realize that Jewish culture can be experienced and communicated through culinary traditions, beyond formal religious settings.

💡Whole-bodied Jewish Practice

Whole-bodied Jewish practice is a concept introduced by the speaker, advocating for a multisensory, embodied approach to Jewish life and rituals. They suggest that Judaism should engage all of the senses, much like cooking does, and not be confined to intellectual or spiritual activities alone. This theme is critical to the speaker’s reflection on how cooking can be a form of worship and connection to Judaism.

💡Service and Hospitality

Service and hospitality refer to the acts of caring for and attending to the needs of others, particularly in social and dining settings. The speaker draws strong connections between their experiences in restaurant service and their role in the Jewish community, both of which involve creating meaningful experiences for others. This concept underpins their view of the rabbinate as akin to restaurant service.

💡Neilah

Neilah is the concluding service of Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, symbolizing the closing of the gates of heaven. The speaker uses Neilah to reflect on their own life, asking themselves if they’ve made a difference, similar to how they question whether their cooking is 'good enough' after a service. This moment serves as a metaphor for self-reflection and the passage of time.

💡Community

Community refers to the group of people with shared values, interests, or religion. In the script, the speaker seeks to connect with their dining guests on a deeper level, offering more than just food. They aim to provide a sense of community and belonging, reflecting the importance of communal experiences in both their culinary and religious life.

💡Physical vs. Metaphysical

The physical refers to the tangible, sensory experiences like food and cooking, while the metaphysical relates to abstract, spiritual concepts. The speaker challenges the traditional separation of these realms in Jewish practice, arguing that physical acts like preparing and sharing food can be as religiously significant as spiritual or intellectual pursuits. This idea reshapes their understanding of how Jewish identity can be expressed.

💡Culinary Art

Culinary art refers to the creative and technical skills involved in cooking and presenting food. The speaker, a trained chef, integrates this art into their rabbinate, finding deep meaning in how food can create connections and reflect Jewish values. The act of cooking becomes a form of personal and communal expression, merging their identities as a chef and rabbi.

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)