For the past four days I’ve eaten pretty much nothing except brisket. Don’t get me wrong. Brisket is [i][b]gooooood[/b][/i]. Thin sliced meat with a tangy gravy, potato kugel, sweet potatoes, turkey, cranberries … it’s pretty much like a Jewish Thanksgiving dinner.
This past weekend was Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and not being overly religious, in my clan we essentially get together, say a quick prayer, and then eat. Then we eat some more, and then some more after that.
And For the past four days I’ve eaten pretty much nothing except brisket. Don’t get me wrong. Brisket is [i][b]gooooood[/b][/i]. Thin sliced meat with a tangy gravy, potato kugel, sweet potatoes, turkey, cranberries … it’s pretty much like a Jewish Thanksgiving dinner.
This past weekend was Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and not being overly religious, in my clan we essentially get together, say a quick prayer, and then eat. Then we eat some more, and then some more after that.
And because I have the big dinner on two nights in a row–once at my mom’s place, then next with my in-laws–I’ve got enough leftovers to last me through the winter. Of 2012.
Like any holiday, Rosh Hashanah has its own vibe, the family gathered together, bringing their own brand of kookiness to the festivities. Sometimes it’s super fun, sometimes its less than that, but more often than not, we hang about, eat all day, eat at night, and then sleep.
Me? I took a two-hour nap on Saturday and then a two-and-a-half-hour nap on Sunday. So in-between driving to each event, I ate, ate and slept.
Not too shabby.
Will I be eating brisket well into my 40s? Probably. But if having a freezer full of leftover brisket is my biggest problem, then I’m doing fairly okay.
