Before I became the perfect person I am today, I was a pretty stubborn kid. When I made up my mind about something, it was hard to convince me otherwise (for the extent of that, see Musings #199).
My Bubby a”h, Rebbetzin Fruma Kohn, had certain recipes that she would often make, including her signature potato soup, un-duplicatable razor-thin egg lokshen for Pesach, and dumplings, among many others. In years past, like a true Lower East Sider, she had a fish in her bathtub for a few days before she prepared it for Shabbos. She also kashered meat in her multi-purpose bathroom.
One Shabbos morning, while enjoying her cholent, my father asked my Bubby (his mother-in-law) how she made her delicious cholent. She nonchalantly replied that her secret is that she sucks the beans. My father froze, his fork in midair. When she saw his look of utter shock, she repeated her statement that she sucks the beans. My father was horrified and disgusted. “You actually suck the beans?” She looked at him in surprise. “Yes! I suck the beans the entire Thursday night.”
At that point, it dawned on my father that with her European accent, my Bubby meant that she soaks the beans in water overnight. My father breathed a sigh of relief. “Ohhhh, you soak the beans.” She looked at him incredulously. “Nu, that’s what I said. I suck the beans.”
Of all her dishes, however, for the longest time, there was one that I adamantly refused to try: her eggplant. It had an unappealing green color that I didn’t want to have anything to do with.
I don’t remember why, but on one occasion, I succumbed to parental pressure and tasted the eggplant. To my dismay, I liked it. I felt like I would end up in the next Dr. Seuss book, eating eggplant with a fellow named Pierre Ag-Pant on a train, on a plane, and in the rain – and that would have been pretty insane.
For the next few years, any time I didn’t want to taste something, someone immediately reminded me about what happened with Bubby’s eggplant. I don’t think the annoying reminder ever got me to try another new food. But I often asked Bubby to make me eggplant.
David HaMelech states: “Taste and see that Hashem is good. Praised is the man who takes refuge in Him” (T’hilim 34:9).
At first glance, living a religious – and surely a righteous – life may not seem too appealing. Do I really want to live such an austere and rigid lifestyle?
David HaMelech, however, advises us: “Just taste it.” From the outside looking in, it may appear overbearing and emotionless. But live it, and thereby taste such a life. You will see that a person who lives with trust in G-d and is devoted to observing the Torah indeed lives a praiseworthy and fulfilling life.
Until a person is willing to embrace it and really experience it, he may never know how fulfilling it is.
This week, on 30 Sivan, marks the yahrzeit of my Bubby. While I do miss her eggplant, potato soup, and dumplings, I miss her far more. She was a remnant of a generation that held onto its faith despite many tribulations. By her very being, she gave us a taste of der alter heim [the old home] and the staunch pride and devotion one must have to persevere as a Jew.
May her memory be for a blessing.
Dedicated in loving memory of my Bubby, Fruma bas Lieber, upon her yahrzeit, 30 Sivan (1 Rosh Chodesh Tamuz)
Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW, is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbe at Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, NJ. and principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, NY. Rabbi Staum is also a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and at www.strivinghigher.com.
