Today a rabbi taught me how to make challah

Though, to be fair, this wasn't a one-on-one type thing. G and I went to a Jewish festival this afternoon and after gorging ourselves on latkes, bagels, and pita bread, we wandered into a series of lectures about traditional Jewish food. The challah we tried was divine, and the rabbi was quite a character. Unfortunately, we weren't able to stick around for his wife to teach us how to make matzoh balls.

We went to a mock bar mitzvah. I was vaguely familiar with the occasion, but growing up in a small Southern town doesn't lend itself to much exposure to Jewish culture. We have much more in common than many of us are able to admit. The occasion, in some ways, reminds me of the Rite of Confirmation. Though Catholics are considered full members of the Church from the time of their baptism, the process of being confirmed is meant to be a time of study and meditation. After confirmation, one has a fuller communion with the Church, and one is considered an adult. My understanding is that preparation for a bar/bat mitzvah is more intense, learning Hebrew, preparing a section of the Torah, leading the congregation in prayer, and meditating on the teachings of the section of the Torah the candidate has prepared. It is a recognition of adulthood. I'm sure I'm oversimplifying, but I did notice commonalities this afternoon. I think that if more people were able to focus on what we have in common, the differences, while still there, would be less important.

G and I are going out of town next week. We'll be visiting my family. I don't know how excited G is, but I'm practically packed. Because we are going out of town and I won't have time to try the challah recipe before I leave, I won't be posting it until we get back. My grandfather turns 75 next week, and I can't wait to see him.

I don't get to go home very often. Home is a ten hour drive, a week off work, and until this trip, time away from G. G will finally get to go to the custard stand down the street from my aunt and uncle. We'll get to feed the turtles in the pond at the custard stand, we'll get to go the bakery that makes the best rye bread I've ever tasted, and I'll get to see most of the people I love. I've even been promised that I'll get to go to the best Chinese place in the state.

Being the neurotic individual that I am, I insist that we clean the house and eat everything that might not last a week in our refrigerator. I even thought ahead and prepared and froze a lasagna for the night we get back.

Tonight's dinner is one of our go to meals when we don't have much in the way of food in the house. We have certain pantry items that are always on hand: tinned tomatoes, pasta, rice, olive oil, garlic, you get the idea. G and I love capers and olives, so we normally keep them on hand. With the addition of anchovy paste, we have the foundation for a killer meal. Pasta puttanesca so delicious that it tastes like my (non-existent) Italian grandmother has been slaving in the kitchen for hours. Got unexpected guests? Make this, and you might not be able to get rid of them.

I shamelessly stole this recipe from Sam Zien (you know, Sam the Cooking Guy). My version follows.

You will need:

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 tablespoon anchovy paste
• 2 large cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon capers
• 2 ounces Kalamata (Greek) Olives, coarsely chopped
• 28 oz can whole Italian tomatoes
• pasta
• Freshly grated Parmesan

While bringing a pot of water to a boil, add to a large saute pan, the olive oil, anchovy paste, and garlic. Cook over low/medium until the garlic is golden (just a little color). Add the olives, capers, and tomatoes. Take the back of your spoon and smoosh the tomatoes. They'll make this awesome, satisfying sound. G hates it, but I love the way it sounds and think it's funny when seeds shoot out all over the saute pan (and sometimes stove and walls). Smash the tomatoes into small pieces. This dish is particularly fun to make when you're mad at a group of people. Anyway, by this time your water should be boiling. Cover the sauce, turn down the heat a notch, and add the pasta to the boiling water, cooking until it's tender. Your sauce should have been simmering beautifully this entire time. Drain the pasta, and serve it with sauce and freshly grated Parmesan.

Total time from pantry to table? 20 minutes. That's it. I'm not really sure how many people this serves, probably 4. We always have a ton of sauce left over. If we're feeling saucy, we use it for pizza later in the week. Usually, I just eat it for lunch the next day.

Sam the Cooking Guy is awesome. His food philosophy is spot on. His recipes are fast, easy, and most importantly, delicious. He doesn't demand that people use hard to find, expensive ingredients. Our tube of anchovy paste wasn't that expensive (though it did require a special trip to Fresh Market), and it will last several months, giving us many servings of pasta puttanesca.

This week I was a storyteller at a fairly prominent festival. I'm beat. Ok, I'm off to finish my book. I'm in the home stretch. After tomorrow's book discussion, I'm done with intellectual heavy lifting at work until the end of May. The calm before the storm.