Celebrating Modern Jewish Living Through Food, Tradition, and Family
Growing up in my house, there were a few food-related things you could bet your life on:
1. My dad’s bagels were always in the kitchen in a brown paper bag. Anything with seeds had a bag of its own.
2. Mayo was used for two […]-READ-MORE>
It comes over us in an instant and almost always on a Saturday night when our children are with their other parents (keep reading): my husband and I will be standing in the kitchen, futzing around looking for something for dinner,[…]-READ-MORE>
Are there any MASH fans out there? I always remember that somewhere in either the opening credits or maybe it was just always in the background, but anyway, there was one of those wooden signposts with signs and arrows painted wit[…]-READ-MORE>
I guess you could say I’m a bit of an anomaly when it comes to ordering a sandwich in a deli: to me, the thinner the sandwich, the better. I know, I know, this is not how it’s done (or expected) when ordering anything between two […]-READ-MORE>
This is my father’s bench.
The same bench where my father stood, leaned against, kibitzed from, schlepped hundred pound piles of dough onto, and expertly made hundreds of thousands of bagels by hand from 1970 to 1990. The same[…]-READ-MORE>
Up until I got married (ok, marriage 2.0, fine), my relationship with my KitchenAid standing mixer may have been one of the more significant and certainly the most satisfying relationships I’ve had as an adult. I know this may sou[…]-READ-MORE>
My father believed in a lot of things that pretty much summed up the kind of guy he was:
He believed in putting his family first.
He believed in making the best product he could possibly make and his customers loved him and […]-READ-MORE>
The picture above might just look like a plate of bakery cookies, but to me, they mean so much more.
I was actually compelled to buy these cookies, put them on one of my finest plates, set them on my Shabbat table, and could no[…]-READ-MORE>
Sunday morning: the boys are playing X-Box, (no Hebrew school today as it’s Thanksgiving weekend, so they’re still in pjs and yes, I’m letting their brains go to mush), my daughter is at the kitchen table drawing a picture she’ll […]-READ-MORE>
Oh how my father loved his Cream of Wheat. To this day, I simply don’t get it. I will never get it. If you’ve read any of my other Baker’s Daughter blogs, you know how much I adored my father (still do), but for the life of me, I'[…]-READ-MORE>