Let's take a stroll down memory lane to Lag BOmer, Yom Yerushalayim angry sarcasm, and Shavuot and how Pesach and how cheesecake turns people Jewish, with the Kibbitzer's pictures of laughter from last month. We want to thank David Kilimnick for sharing that non-Kosher cafes are Jewish. That should help with our Kiruv project.

The deli is American Jewish tradition. In American Jewish tradition, all Jews come from Europe. That’s the only place Jews come from. Deli is the only true Jewish food. Even turkey-pastrami has a certain amount of guilt that it feels from the time it was cut from the body and cured.
Ever since Jewish life opened to other countries, people started eating falafel and shwarma, and wraps. Now there are smokehouses, threatening the existence of delis. Shame on the Jewish people, giving up salt for smoke. When I went to New York to find they were serving sushi at what was my favorite deli, I knew Jewish life was ruined forever. Now nothing is Jewish anymore.
I am here to remind you some of the reasons why we, American born Jews of tradition, love the deli.
 
The Smell
It's as close a smell as you can get to socks that have been through a marathon in the rain and then ran in again, and then left in the room with the windows down. Yet, it still smells so good. It is the closest you can get to a stench that is unbearable, and yet it's so appetizing. Which makes me ask why I still do laundry.
 
It Is Jewish
Every deli reminds a Jew of the Lower East Side. Jews came from Europe and this is the food they took on the ship with them. The pickling connects us to that tradition, as any pickling process done right can keep the food fresh for well over a century. That is where the deli smell is from; Europe, a hundred years ago.
 
Salami That Hangs
Salami doesn’t smell that bad. But you leave it hanging for two years, something is going to come of that.
 
Pictures of Random Immigrants
A picture of a guy pushing a wagon in the Lower East Side of New York, in the early 1920s, that every deli owner is related to. And then another picture of a guy standing behind a counter, whose face we can barely see behind the hanging salami. These two pictures unite every deli. Whoever the ancestor in that picture is that every person who opens a deli is related to, it is tradition. I love it.

The Tiled Floor
A restaurant that smells pickled, with a checkered floor that looks like a 1950s washroom. Décor does not get better than that. Love it.
 
Carpet that Hasn’t Been Cleaned
If you don’t have the bathroom tiles, it’s decked out in speckled red and blue carpet that looks maroon. This way, we cannot tell how much kishka, stuffed-derma, gravy has spilled on it. I love the thriftiness of not needing somebody to clean the place. I love the smell of hanging salami and cured beef brought from Europe in 1910. I love pictures of random immigrants from Time Magazine that look like family.

There is more to this Ode. I will continue next week with more to love, like Batampte pickles and Mother's, a brand that is named after my mom.

Let's take a stroll down memory lane to our trip to Israel, shopping for a brand named after the sale and skewer safety, with the Kibbitzer's pictures of laughter from last month. We want to thank David Kilimnick for sharing his shopping experience at Walmart.

I've been working as a Mashgiach for many years, and I've learned that there are tricks to the trade that one must know for legitimate Kosher supervision. Here are some of the trade secrets for anyone who wants to be an acceptable Kosher supervisor.

Get Good at Seeing Small Things
Lettuce checking is key. Take pride in it. Hold up that leaf with confidence that you can find a creature in there. 
If you can't find a bug in a vegetable, you should lose any Mashgiach license given you. If you can't watch over a fruit, you should not be trusted to watch over a kitchen. Before allowing anybody to be a Mashgiach, they should have a test to ensure you're not farsighted. To note: There is no greater feeling than finding an insect in a vegetable. That's nachis. Grandchildren are nothing next to a meadow spittlebug.

Know Your Symbols
Get good at finding 'O's. You have to find small letters on packages as well. That, along with turning on fires. You have to be able to find letters and turn on fires. Never trust a professional chef with a fire. That's why we have Kosher people turning on the pilot lights.
Basic rule: Any shape of a state with a letter in it is Kosher. And any 'O' that doesn't have a 'R' in it is Kosher. Any randomly flying 'K's on the package, the Kosher world has not figured out if that's Kosher yet.

Make It Look Like You're Doing Something
When you walk in, tap the meat. Say 'I'm here,' and walk through the kitchen while looking over people's shoulders that are trying to prepare the food. Check their onions while they're sauteing them. If they're comfortable with you around, you're not doing your job.
If you have no idea what you're doing with your time, give feedback on the onions themselves. You don't have to be a cook to do that. Nor do you have to be a Mashgiach to do that.

Sit and Learn
Your job is to be the religious Jewish guy. Learning is what good religious Jews do. That's what you should be doing. Sit and learn and stay away from the kitchen. People will trust you, even if you didn't check anything. As long as you're learning. 
Bitul Torah, taking time away from learning Torah, is a sin. If anybody asks you to check if the dish is Kosher, the right thing to say is, 'I'm learning and I believe in H."' That will let them know that you care about Torah. That should be enough for them to feel comfortable as Jews, even if the food wasn't checked.

Make a Big Deal When You Tell Them The Empire Chicken is Good to Use
You want job security. Let them know with authority that it's Kosher. Even slap the chicken for emphasis. 'Empire is good. Cook it.' Even if they're grilling it, just yell out, 'Cook it.'
Anything you know, you should express enthusiasm and get involved for that moment. You're limited in Kosher knowledge, as you have no idea how to slaughter, so make sure they know how good you are at finding letters in outlines of states.
You see a bug, yell it out, 'I found one.' Celebrate. Do a Siyum if you must. Take pride in your detective abilities. You'll naturally want to have a Simcha, possibly break into a Horah or a one handed side to side kick, once you find a bug. It just happens. That joy simply touches a man's soul.

Eat as Much as You Can
Whatever they pay you, it's not enough. Make sure you're eating at least twelve bucks an hour's worth. More than that, you have a requirement to eat. How is anybody supposed to know it's Kosher if the Kosher guy isn't eating it. How Kosher is it if the Kosher guy is only eating small portions? These are questions people ask, so make sure you are sitting there and eating.

Make a Big Deal About Something
​Otherwise, they're going to question what you're doing there. The issue is that some nonJews don't value Torah and eating. And share any knowledge you have, as that exudes authority. If anybody asks you what kind of meat it is, you tell them 'brisket.'
If you can say something is wrong, say it. Focusing on negative makes you look like a leader. Reach over and say, 'Can't do that.' Even if it's something about American foreign policy, reach over and say 'no.' Connect it to Kosher. 'If they attack the Ukraine, the meat won't be slaughtered in the ritually correct way. Toss the salmon.' They'll understand that you know Kosher.

Check Everything
Remember, Mashgiach means supervisor. So, even if you're only making fifteen bucks an hour, you're the boss.
When they come in, check their coats. Check their pockets. You don't know if they're stealing anything. Check to see what skin lotions they are using. Nobody wants dry unmoisturized hands in their food.
Remember, you're a supervisor. Oversee everything. Be sure to criticize when you have a chance. People are wearing an off outfit, mock it. Supervise that. Get involved in breaks. The more you keep busy telling other people what to do, the more of a supervisory role you are playing.

Talk Yiddish When Other Mashgiachs Are Around
Yiddish is the Kosher language of America, because it's not English. Even if you don't know Yiddish, do a high pitch of the few Yiddish words you know. Larry David employs the Yiddish high pitch mumble beautifly in Curb Your Enthusiasm. 
Anything you do is Kosher when it's Yiddish. I overheard somebody at Kiddish explaining, 'Nu. I don't know if I'm a fan. Not to plotz for. The burger at Wendy's is a bissel dry.' Vus is dus? You're going to tell them Wendy's isn't Kosher?

Wear a Blazer
You don't have to work when you're wearing a blazer. Better yet, a suit. Nobody asks people to do physical labor when they're wearing a suit. Hence, real rabbis wear suits. 
It also looks more supervisory to wear a jacket. Better yet, wear a tuxedo. People may even wish you a Mazel Tov for not helping.

Make a Big Deal About Pesach
When Pesach comes, throw everything in the Kitchen out. Any questions asked to you as a Mashgiach, 'Throw it out.' They ask about the oven, 'Throw it out.' Counters, in the trash.
If you can, blow torch the place, do it. It looks good when a rabbi walks through the kitchen with exposed fire. It lets them know who's truly in charge. It also instills the necessary fear in the staff who are thinking of treifing up the place.

Whatever you do, make sure they call you a rabbi. Even if you have a high school Torah education, just go by rabbi. Exploit that. If they call you rabbi, you don't have to help. And they will respect you for that.

Scene
INT – COFFEE SHOP – NIGHT

Shlomo, a religious Jew, sitting in a coffee shop with his friend, Sarah. The waitress comes over and Shlomo points to the menu.

Shlomo: Is it Kosher?

Sarah (in undertone): He's doing it again... Does he have to?

Waitress: What's Kosher?

Shlomo: I don't know. Is it?

Waitress: I don't know. What does Kosher mean?

Shlomo: Kosher started in the times of the Bible. Gd gave the Jews dietary laws to live by. You cannot cook a kid in its mother's milk. You can't eat milk and meat together. You can't eat an animal without split hooves. You have to...

Sarah: What does any of this have to do with a cafe, Shlomo? It's a vegan cafe. You're like a Jewish missionary.

Shlomo (Cont): You have to tithe. There's batel Bshishim, if it's milk that falls in the meat. One sixtieth. You mix it right away. Are they mixing in the back of the restaurant? A lot of mixing? All the time, stirring? Are the Hot Toddies stirred?

Sarah: What are you trying to make her religious for? It's vegan. Just order. 

Shlomo: I need to know if the coffee is Kosher. If a rabbi is not checking it, we don't know that the vegan place is vegan.

Sarah: You were educating her. Stop and order. She has customers. It's a vegan cafe.

Shlomo: You have to teach in order to know if you can drink the coffee.

Waitress: So you want the coffee?

Shlomo: I need to know if it's kosher.

Waitress: I still don't know what kosher is. 

Shlomo: I shouldn't be here. You see. We just wanted coffee. It's a nice place and...

Waitress: Coffee is not Kosher?

Shlomo: I don't know.

Waitress: If you don't know, how am I supposed to know? I definitely don't know.

Sarah: We'll take coffee.

Shlomo: I don't know.

Waitress: I don't if you should be here. Are you sure you should be here, Sir. I have other customers that should be eating here, because they don't keep Kosher.

Shlomo: Kosher is a rabbi's approval.

Waitress: I don't know any rabbis. What approval?

Shlomo: A symbol. It's a big 'O' with a letter in it. You can see it on the box.

Waitress goes to ask her boss. Shlomo is oblivious to the fact that he will only be spending $1.50, and that doesn't help the cafe very much. Other customers are staring at this spectacle, waiting for the waitress.

Sarah: You do this every time.

Shlomo: What?

Sarah: Ask if it's Kosher.

Shlomo: What's wrong with that? I keep Kosher.

Sarah: It's coffee. You just buy it and drink it.

Shlomo: Well. I do that after I know if it's Kosher.

Sarah: Just do your research before you go out.
(Sarah Cont) The waitress will never want to serve a Jew again.

Shlomo: As long as they're not eating Treif.

Sarah: They won't eat anything. They'll sit there with their hands up waiting for the waitress, and she will never come, because you had to find out if the coffee is Kosher.

Shlomo: Let's say the cup was used for soup, and the soup was crab soup?

Sarah: How is the waitress supposed to answer that?

Shlomo: Exactly.
(Shlomo Cont) Next time take me to a Kosher place.

Sarah: This is Kosher. It's coffee!
(Sarah Cont) I'm sure the Kosher place has coffee too. Are you going to ask them to bring in the rabbi to assure you that it's Kosher? I can't go anywhere with you.

Shlomo: You can go to Kosher shops with me.
(Sarah puts hand to head and shakes her head to show embarrassment) 
Shlomo (Cont): Why does this embarrass you?

Sarah: I'm Jewish too. It's my people.

Shlomo: The waitress doesn't know that.

Sarah: Thank Gd.

Twenty minutes later, waitress comes back.

Waitress: It's kosher.

Shlomo: I'll take the coffee.

Waitress: That's it?

Shlomo: Yep.

Sarah: Why don't you take anything else? She just spent twenty minutes finding out if it's kosher.

Shlomo: Nothing else is Kosher.

Sarah: Next time order water. Just order water, and don't ask. It will be less embarrassing.

Waitress: Should I check into the other stuff.

Shlomo: Did the sugar come in a box?

Waitress: I believe so.

Shlomo: Can we see the box? It would be good to see the box. 

Waitress leaves.

Sarah: What can be wrong with sugar?

Shlomo: You just saw, there could be a problem with coffee. Maybe there's a problem with sugar too. The processing factory. They might process lard.

Sarah: I have to do research before taking you for coffee. So that I can tell you to stop.

Waitress comes back with the box. Shlomo takes off his glasses and starts searching the box. All of the customers are looking at the spectacle.

Sarah: It's like he works he now.

Shlomo: It's good. Has the symbol.

Waitress: There's the Kosher symbol. The 'O.'

Shlomo: That's registered. 

Random Customer: Honey. They're bringing out the boxes.
(Random Customer turns to Waitress)
Can I see the ingredients to the gravy? I sometimes get acid reflux. By the way, how do you make the gravy? The ingredients would be good.

Sarah: See what you started.

Chef comes out.

Random Customer: How do you make the gravy?

Shlomo: That's a good question. And he's not even Jewish.

Chef: I've been in the restaurant business for eighteen years...

Shlomo puts on a baseball hat.

Sarah: Now you put on the hat.

Kibbitzer's Conclusion
He checked the package. That's the next level. 
It kills the restaurant allure when us religious Jews end up going to kitchen to make sure it's Kosher. Jews look like their working in the restaurant when they start asking the Kosher questions and checking the boxes.
It's got to be a shock to be working behind a counter and to have a random person ask you what you use to make the ice cream. Sarah understands that. Yet, it's a dilemma; we have to eat. So, we go in and check out the ice cream. I have a feeling that the staff in the service industry thinks that all Jews are inspectors. We come and inspect everything. They yell to the back of the kitchen that Jews are here, and they scrub down the place.

It's safer to eat at a Kosher coffee house. It causes less anti-Semitism. If he would've had on the baseball hat the whole time, she would've thought he was a Catholic that keeps Kosher. Less anti-Semitism.
Sarah was very embarrassed. Shlomo felt at home making a deal to get his coffee. Which is how we know that Shlomo is a better Jew.

We were bothered to find out that Shlomo only left a ten percent tip. He said that was the expected amount in these parts. Very bothersome. He should've left a 200% tip on the $1.50. And Shlomo stole all the SweeN' Low. He told Sarah that his grandparents used to do that, and it's family tradition. And tradition is the foundation of our people.

Hello
Shalom. You don't speak Hebrew? We're Kosher here. 

I speak Yiddish.
I didn't ask where you're from. 

I'll start with the prices. What are your prices?
What do you want?

It depends on the prices.
You tell me what you like. I give you deal.

Why are the prices in your store not listed?
People don't like seeing $23.99 a pound. They won't buy it. If it's in the bag, they buy it. $23.99 and the community is lose weight. I lose business.
They'll pay $250.99 for the bag though.

Who's your favorite customer?
Mr. Bergman. He buys a lot. Never asks the prices.

Do you ever get messed up requests from your customers?
All of them. One guy doesn't want juice. How am I supposed to make money on the ribs?! I sell juice. You're paying for the bones and the juice. I should put prices of bones and juice on the wall.

$23.99 for bones and juice?
Yes.
One guy wanted my best cut of steak. He said, 'Your best steak.' I don't know what the best steak is. I'm a vegetarian.

Why do you run a butcher shop if you're a vegetarian?
Money.

Is it hard for you to be part of the community and their butcher?
Worse than being a doctor. They show up to shul and people ask them about their feet. 'Oh I have heelspur.' I get asked questions about cow's feet. I don't serve that.
They all complain. They even complain to me about their doctor.

What questions do you get about cow's feet?
Are they pigeon toed. If they had pigeon toes, I wouldn't sell it. A cow with pigeon toes is not kosher. It's disgusting.

Who is your favorite customer?
Martha. She orders, says nothing. Just takes it. She doesn't care how much it weighs. 

I thought Mr. Bergman was your favorite?
I can't stand him.

Where do you get your food? 
New York. 

So you don't slaughter it?
No. I get it from MealMart and put it on the shelf. People seem to like Meal Mart.

What do you do to the animal?
We take the food out of the package. We put it on the shelf.

Why are you not a grocery then?
The sign outside says I'm a butcher.

I see some nice premade stuff. How do you make the premade food?
We take the MealMart package and open it.

That machine?
That's the cutter. How many slices do you want?

Isn't that called a slicer?
It's a cutter. We cut the meat in there. It's a cutter. Are you going to buy anything?

No. I'm here to interview you today. I thought you would offer me a taste.
Are you going to pay for it?

I would think that because I am the interviewer...
This is pointless. I thought you were going to buy something. Can we finish this?

I just thought that you would give me a taste.
You pay.

If I pay for it, it's not a taste.
Who says? You? Ever heard of taster? They charge for those now. It's classy. You want taster platter?

You've mentioned that people complain. What is the number one complaint?
Me.

Anything else about the customers?
If they didn't pay for the food, I wouldn't want to see them. Especially Mrs. Gronawitz. She wants triangle cuts. The cutter doesn't cut in triangles.

It's a sli... Thanksgiving is coming up. 
How many people need turkey? I can't give turkey to the whole world. Sukkot comes, I get thirty, maybe forty brisket orders. Thanksgiving. 200 turkeys. These Jews can care less about Sukkot, and they hate turkeys. If Jewish food would be turkey, they would celebrate the Chagim.
How much do I have to do for turkey?! She wants one that is hearty. I don't know how it feels Mrs. Goldfarb. I don't know its personality. She wants hearty?! I can give juicy. I don't know turkey feelings. I am a butcher. Not a poultry therapist.

I heard about the turkey shwarma tradition.
Now more turkey?! I can't keep finding turkey. Don't tell anybody of this tradition.

At least Chanukah is coming up. What do your customers buy on Chanukah?
Nothing. I hate Chanukah. You can't slaughter sour cream and potatoes.

But you don't slaughter. You get it from New York... Chanukah Sameach
You're not going to buy anything?

Author's Thoughts on Interview
He was very curt. I believe Micky smiled once. When I asked him about the slicer, he thought I was going to buy some cold cuts. That was the only time he smiled.
He never stopped trying to make a sale. I respect that. His Middle Eastern voice came out everytime he tried to make a sale. He even called me 'my friend' at some point. I would've liked a taste. Even in the shuk, they gave tastes.
​I think he's mad because he's a vegetarian.

He wasn't happy about the slicer question. He was very adamant that it's a cutter.
He changed his mind about Mr. Goldberg real fast. He told me later that Mr. Goldberg's business wasn't doing too well, so he doesn't care for him anymore.
He was definitely not happy about Thanksgiving. I didn't even get in the question, before he started getting angry at turkeys. I don't believe he is thanking anybody this holiday season.

Your kitchen is kosher, but is it Frum?
Many new people to Yiddishkeit, Jewish living, try to make their kitchen religious. It's not easy. You can put a Kippah on the microwave. That's cute. But that doesn't make your kitchen Frum. A Frum, religious, kosher kitchen needs a good reputation. That doesn't happen with one sink. That doesn't happen with one oven. That doesn't happen with a microwave; unless if you have a different cover for every type of food you need to heat up.
​You want people eating over? Here are some key rules for running a Frum kitchen.

Never Have Your Fridge Light On
Fridge lights must be off for Shabbat. That means 'never turn it on.' As a Frum Jew you are always in a state of Shabbat ready. This is why many Frum Jews wear black suits all week.
You should never be able to see into your fridge. If anybody can find the vegetable bin, it's a definite sign that you're not keeping kosher.

Use Tin
A lot of tin. Cook in tins. Bake in tins. Brisket in tin. Shabbat, holidays, Simchas, decked in tin. After tin, use tinfoil. Tinfoil everything. If you use a pot for cooking, cover it with tinfoil.
Paper plates. Plastic table cloths. Use plastic forks and knives. Anything that shows that you do not care about the environment will work.
After any holiday, your curb should have upwards of thirty 40-gallon garbage bags on it. 
A Little Shabbat Parable: One great Shabbat I witnessed an amazing miracle. I didn't believe it could ever happen. Yet, I experienced it. I got through a whole piece of chicken without the fork breaking. I finished the leg and all the teeth were still there.

Always Have A Sponge Cake Out
Make sure you always have a sponge cake out. Leave it out for as long as you want. You don't have to make a fresh one. Nobody will eat it anyways.
Your cake should be edible with herring. Don't worry about having out a babka. That gets too expensive, as people eat it.
Your cake should taste good with herring and schnapps.

When Pesach Comes, Use More Tinfoil
Cover your kitchen fully in tin. Your kitchen should blind guests. It helps for hiding Chametz. Seeing leavened bread is a sin. If there's enough tinfoil, you won't be able to see anything.

Dough Should Always Be Rising
Even if you're not making bread, have the bowl. A huge industrial size bowl. This way it looks like you're making Challah. A tiny bowl just looks bad. You should also have no small tins. Only the double rectangle that takes up the full oven shelf. Anything less makes it look like you're not even cooking for the minimum number of Frum people dinner attendees.
Eighteen. That's the minimum you should always be cooking for. If it's just you and your husband you cook for eighteen. Every Frum kitchen should have tins in the fridge, with leftovers. Frum people should always be eating leftovers during the week. Make sure to note that- Leftovers In The Fridge At All Times.
And braid. Always braid. Braiding is the sign of the modern Frum woman. If it's not dough, it's hair. Braid.
One caveat to the bowl is Pesach. Get rid of the bowl for Pesach.

Have At Least Two Sinks
I suggest a sink for every day of the week, and then for Pareve. That will comfort all who question your kosher standing. General rule of thumb: Never use a sink twice.
Better yet, two kitchens. And then another kitchen for Pesach. If you are wealthy enough, two kitchens for Pesach.

Eight Sets of Dishes
You should question using any dish twice. Question everything you do. There is Shabbat, holidays, guests, Pesach. There's dairy, meat, pareve, whatever your mother-in-law cooks.
You should be using paper anyways. It's about faith and not worrying whether the lost fork tooth that broke off fell in the choolante. Having to buy another set of dishes is the cost for not having faith in H' and thinking that disposable hurts the environment. The real question is- Does it hurt Shabbis?

Have a Box of Food With A Kosher Symbol You Don't Trust
Tell people you made a mistake buying it. Not trusting a Hashgacha shows you are better than that product. Frum kitchens should have pride. If that comes with belittling Minute Maid or Mott's, so be it. 
For extra shul cred, randomly say 'I don't eat there.' Not eating somewhere is the key to your kitchen being Kosher. Let it be known, 'I don't trust the hashgacha at LongHorn Steakhouse.'

Scream 'You Treifed Up My Kitchen' Every Once in a While
To make Treif is to make something not kosher. Yelling brings out the personality of the religious kitchen. It als shows you have full control of your kosher areas.

Kasher Your Kitchen Regularly
When your guests visit, pull out a blowtorch. The more dangerous your Kashering of your kitchen, the more religious you look.

All Sweet Products Must Say Paskesz on It
It just looks good. The product doesn't even need a Kosher symbol on it. If it has Paskesz, it's Frum.
Just saying Paskesz gives you Frum kitchen status. It even sounds more religious than Lieber's.

Put Stickers on Everything
All dairy areas must have dairy. Meat need meat. Pareve, needs pareve. This shows that you don't trust your family when they're getting cereal.
Don't let your husband in the kitchen ever. He'll treif it up. Husbands should be sitting at the table, because they mess things up. This is why husbands should never help.
I hope this article speaks to the modern Frum woman. That is our target population.

Just remember. The environment is not your worry. Your worry is feeding eighteen people. Weekly. Two times. Plus holidays. All savvy Frum people know that you do that with paper, plastic and tin.
Kitchen help is not going to pass. Clean dishes is a sign your husband went in the kitchen after dinner, and touched the sink that had no sticker on it. And that means it's treif. 
So, make your kitchen Frum and be accepted in a way keeping Kosher can't. You deserve friends in your neighborhood. You shouldn't be relegated to eating dinner, alone, with your husband. Nobody should have to suffer Shabbat like that.

One last note: If you don't want to braid, you can purchase Challah. Purchasing is still good enough for the Frum kitchen. Nonetheless, there should still be dough a bowl with dough in it.
​
​If you follow these rules, all will trust your kashrut, and eat in your kitchen, even if you don't invite them.