As a public school child in the 70’s, my Valentine’s Day often ended in tears. I remember digging into my optimistically large brown paper bag in first grade to find only three envelopes, even though my mother had insisted I fill out mass-produced cards for every child in my class. “No one likes me!” I […]
Every year, I spend a few weeks drooling over boxes of fancy-schmancy Hanukkah candles – you know, the beautiful beeswax, hand-dipped kind that don’t look like fruit-flavored twizzlers. I ruminate for a good long time over whether or not to spend $10-$15 on each box of candles. Then, before I know it, it’s about five minutes before Hanukkah starts, and I’m forced run over to the supermarket and buy the fifty cent variety. With at least 5 broken candles per box guaranteed. So much for hiddur mitzvah.
The book also reminded me that while oil is arguably the central symbol of the holiday, it usually plays a fairly limited role in our observance, as a medium for frying latkes and doughnuts. I don’t know about you, but when I’m eating fried foods, the miracle of Hanukkah is not foremost in my mind – it’s somewhere far behind clean-up, calories, and yum (but not Yum-o.)So, this year I’m determined to make our celebration a little more olive-oily.
To further the mitzvah of “publicizing the miracle” I’ve also decided to buy bottles of gourmet olive oil as Hanukkah gifts for the adults who are celebrating with us this year. To that end, I’ve asked my brother, professional writer and non-professional foodie, to write a guest post on fine olive oils. (Not, mind you, F-I-N-E-E-V-O-O.) I’ll post it later today, because, you know, I’m late to work.