Hello, from the first of October. How unbelievable that autumn is here, really here, and in NYC, we’ve been swimming in her cool weather and strong rains for the last few weeks already. I’m finally enjoying hot cups of coffee and the best fuzzy ugg slippers again. I’ve been so ready! How is everyone doing?
I’m embarrassed to have disappeared from writing for so long, but life just got a chokehold of me and wouldn’t let go. At the end of the summer, we went on our annual family trip (18 people!) to San Diego, which was incredibly active. It was different this year because while we usually do a beach trip, this year we chose a city with lots of tourist attractions. Navigating a new time zone and new daily schedule with two young kids while exploring a new city is just much more WERK. Wonderful, but tiring. I can write a lot about this topic… another day. Instead, here are some photos my brother’s girlfriend Sarah took of us just as the sun set on Friday night.
When we came back, we dove straight into prep for back to school, and then a handful of days later, we began the (many) Jewish holidays that this season holds. It’s been joyous and meaningful, but I haven’t been able to carve out time appropriately for myself and my creative pursuits, despite really wanting to. So what’s been on my mind these last two months? A lot.
Two weeks ago, I went to see Adeena Sussman speak about her new cookbook Shabbat with my friend Jolie, and at the end of the talk, I felt the same way I do when an actor bows to a standing ovation after a Broadway show: in awe of someone achieving their dreams. You can just see the palpable pride in their eyes and feel it in the air. The electricity of the moment always zaps me with it’s charge. This is a person who chose an unconventional route and despite the many unknowns, zigged and zagged through the proverbial wilderness, and eventually came to find true success. What could be more inspiring than that?
Adeena talked about how she started her culinary career at 33 years old and is 52 at the current moment of her massively successful second cookbook. In other words, recognition didn’t happen overnight. It took years of refinement, hard work, commitment, and devotion to her craft.
As we filtered single-file out of the synagogue auditorium, I couldn’t pay much attention to what Jolie was telling me about where the car was parked. All I could hear was the tiny little voice in my head saying “Maybe it’s not too late for you…” And then, not a second later, the avalanche of realities and responsibilities came running down the pike, all working very hard to silence me. “You have two kids and no time and a full-time job at a startup and why bother and you’re not good enough and who cares about your recipes?” And then I just decided to say absolutely, definitively, “fuck it,” and strike while the inspiration iron was hot. I started a teeny-tiny new instagram account called Cooking for Shabbat.
Why Cooking for Shabbat vs. just Recipes By Jane or some other random name connected to me? Coincidentally, this concept had already been brewing behind the scenes way before I heard Adeena speak.
Over the last couple of years, I realized that when you have a family and especially little kids, no matter how hard you try, you become a line chef, serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner, non-stop. And in between those three wholesome meals, you’re fulfilling orders for fresh-cut strawberries and sliced grapes and cucumbers with the crunchies on top and a glass of milk and a cup of water and a scoop of ice cream and a bowl of cheesy mac. And as much as I used to love cooking, to live for cooking, slowly but surely, the passion drained away amidst the repetitiveness of it all. It turns out, cooking daily for sustenance, often from scratch, is a big freaking chore. I became tired of the mundaneness and the colossal effort to prepare unique, gourmet meals that often ended up untouched or on the floor.
We started sitting down for family Shabbat dinners sometime over the last few years with regularity, and it is an incredible ritual that allows us to slow down and savor our time together. At first, preparing for Shabbat meant nothing more than sitting down together as a family with the small (adorable, almost inedible) challah rolls my daughter brought back from her Jewish pre-school. And then, sitting down included lighting the candles. Eventually, we added the blessing on the wine: kiddush. Sometimes we’d eat leftovers. Sometimes we would order takeout. Sometimes we would just have random bits and bobs from the fridge and freezer. And then, I began cooking for Shabbat.
I began to look forward to this opportunity to feed my family something special. I wanted the sacred challah bread and ceremonial kiddush wine to have food worthy of its company around the table. I personally wanted to eat something warm and homemade. I grew tired of takeout.
I started to review the cookbooks that had been collecting dust on my shelves for inspiration. There were Jewish cookbooks, by Sussman and Solomonov and OGs like Joan Nathan. Italian cookbooks by Marcella Hazan. American cookbooks by Alison Roman and Molly Katzen. I felt like I was in the presence of greatness as I gathered inspiration from these books. I started to think about cooking in a festive way again and to look forward to trying new techniques. To cooking dishes that were more involved than my weekday chicken schnitzel.
In addition, I started to invite and host friends (almost) every week to share in my new culinary successes and failures. Many times, the experiments were a smashing success. Most times, they were just fine. And sometimes, they were downright embarrassing, although my friends never uttered a word. But the thing about cooking, that everyone who loves to cook knows, is that to get good, you have to do it over and over and over again.
So like clockwork, every week, I began to cook for Shabbat. I rolled matzoh balls, roasted chickens, stuffed zucchinis, chopped soup vegetables, seared and braised brisket, braided loaves of challah, sliced and diced Israeli salatim, and on, and on, and on. And eventually, I began to love to cook again.
So fast forward to two weeks ago, at the West Side Institute Synagogue, in a room full of Jewish mothers from uptown Manhattan, somewhat blinded by the diamonds the size of golf balls every which way I looked, I thought… “Why not me? Why can’t I too, follow my dream of one day authoring a cookbook? Is it too late for me?” It might be. But I’ll be damned if I don’t get myself up and try again.
I’m past the point of big, splashy website reveals. I’m too old and too realistic to believe that “this will be the thing” anymore, but I’m still young enough to try, to take a chance, to bet on myself. Too young, healthy, and happy (thank God) to quit. And just wise enough to know that it’s not always about the destination, it’s about the journey. So, here I go again, sharing the stuff coming out of my kitchen.
My 4th (?) attempt at a food-blog-ish endeavor, Cooking For Shabbat. For now, it’s just a tiny little Instagram account where I’ll (try my very hardest to regularly) share recipes, my own and not my own, that I’m making and serving on my table Friday night. Maybe I’ll add a website or a substack to host the recipes. We’ll see what comes.
If you have any ideas, requests, questions, or words of encouragement, feel free to shoot me a note. And if you think I’m insane, trust me, I already know I am :) I’m hoping that if nothing else, my endless attempts will one day teach my children that it’s never too late to give life a shot.
I’m sending you all a very big hug, a thank-you-in-advance for your support, and a Chag Sameach. Oh, and I have a smattering bunch of other life updates and adorable things to share with you, but I’m saving those for next week…
Yours truly,
Jane
You know I am your biggest fan and I follow all your new and exciting endeavors … but this… THIS I am beyond excited about! Cooking for Shabbat and your very own cook book… this going to be EPIC!!
Loved the raw and realness of this piece! I can totally relate!