It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s a… crane fly???

They look like giant mutant mosquitoes, and we initially referred to them as “those monster mosquitoes”.

But we soon learned that they’re officially known as crane flies, and they’re actually quite harmless. In fact, they’re not exactly the most intelligent of creatures and are very easy to catch.

The truth is that I don’t remember ever seeing them until about 8-9 years ago – i.e. a few years after we made aliyah.

But then one Purim, they suddenly appeared.

And they were all over the place. Literally. That first year, there were swarms of them in shul on Purim night. (At that time, our shul building was under construction, and the interim structure’s windows had no screens.)

Although their numbers have decreased significantly since then, the crane flies reappear like clockwork every Purim and stick around until Pesach-time. (The kids now call them “Purim Flies”.)

That’s all very interesting, I can hear you say. But why are you blogging about them now?

Good question.

The first – and obvious – reason is that when one’s looking for excuses to avoid Pesach cleaning, any blog topic is welcome.

Yet the real impetus for this post was an incident which occurred earlier this evening here in TRLEOOB*. When a certain Shiputzim daughter went to brush her teeth, she was dismayed to discover a crane fly swirling around the bathroom.

As you can imagine, high jinks ensued.

But YZG quickly removed the offending creature from the premises; the Shiputzim daughter in question was able to brush her teeth; and I headed to the computer to bang out this post….

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* TRLEOOB = the real life equivalent of our blog

Excuse me, but do I know you?

We briefly interrupt all the cleaning and shopping to bring you the following message from the head of the Our Shiputzim writing department:

Apparently, bletiquette (that would be “blog etiquette”) dictates that I apologize in advance and explain that posting is probably going to be fairly light over the coming week or so.

However, I like to think of this blog as an escape from real life.

And so, instead of boring you with a long and tedious litany of tasks still left on the Shiputzim family’s pre-Pesach checklist, I’ll take this opportunity to ask you an unrelated question:

Do you know me in real life?

I mean, this blog is semi-anonymous at best, and if you’re acquainted with the Shiputzim family, you should be able to figure out who I am within a post or two.

Thus, a small request: If you know me in real life, please email me at OurShiputzim at gmail dot com.

Think of it as a win-win situation.

I’ll get to satisfy my curiosity about how many of my real life acquaintances read this blog, and you’ll get to feel less like an anonymous stalker…

We now return you back to your regularly scheduled panicking…

Fatigued Friday

Last night, we changed the clocks here in Israel.

As a result, this morning, most of the Shiputzim family – and, I daresay, most of the country – stumbled out the door, bleary-eyed, mumbling incoherently, and way behind schedule.

The lone exception was a certain Shiputzim daughter who had her gan birthday party today. In fact, she was up and dressed way before anyone else’s alarm had even gone off!

Unfortunately, however, our shul’s “early Shabbat” minyan won’t be starting until next week IY”H.

And so, we’re taking bets: How many members of the Shiputzim family will have fallen asleep on the couch before Kiddush tonight?

!שבת שלום ומבורך

Important questions

According to an old family joke, there are three important questions* which one must ask a prospective spouse.

And so when YZG and I were practically engaged, I decided that the time had come to find out where he stood on these critical issues:

1) “Which part of the chicken do you prefer – the white meat or the dark meat?” Since YZG likes white meat but I prefer the dark meat, he was able to answer this question to my satisfaction. (This way, both of us get to eat what we like.)

2) “How many hours do you wait between meat and dairy?” I approved of his answer to this question, too. After all, I grew up waiting a full six hours, but YZG’s family only waits five and a half hours. In other words, I gained half an hour.

3) “Do you eat gebrochts?” I should note that this third question is really supposed to be the joke’s punch line. I mean, who doesn’t eat gebrochts?!! But instead of laughing along with me, YZG said, “I don’t think you’re going to like the answer to this question…”

And so every year around this time, I quote the Journeys “Pesach Blues” song and remind YZG that, “it’s not my fault we don’t eat gebrochts!”

But the truth is that not eating gebrochts really isn’t that bad. (YZG – you didn’t see that, right?)

Like A Mother in Israel (who was also surprised to learn that her husband doesn’t eat gebrochts), we’re not fanatic about no gebrochts. Basically, the only thing we avoid is matzah mixed with water. Other liquids are fine.

For instance, I make Pesach rolls with not-from-concentrate orange juice instead of water, and we enjoy matzah meal-based brownies. (The latter point is very significant. I’m not exactly a fan of so-called shehakol brownies…)

In any event, the following recipe contains no matzah products at all.

Non-Gebrochts Broccoli Kugel

Ingredients

• 2 large onions, chopped
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 5 heaping TBSP potato starch
• 1 32-oz bag frozen broccoli
• A pinch of salt
• A shake or two of pepper
• A pinch of onion soup mix
• 6 eggs, beaten

Directions

Sauté the onions in the olive oil. When golden brown, add the potato starch, and mix through. Then add the broccoli, and heat through. Remove from fire, and mix with remaining ingredients. Place in a greased pan. Bake at 350 for 45-60 minutes.

!בתאבון

Update: I posted a picture of this kugel here.

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* Check out Mother in Israel’s post for other shidduch questions…

I’ll know I’ve become an Israeli if and when I learn how to ask…

• a) Which party did you vote for in the last elections?
• b) How much did your new purchase cost?
• c) Why didn’t you ask me to recommend someone who could’ve done the same job for much less than you paid?
• d) All of the above.

If you guessed (d), you are well on your own way to becoming an Israeli…

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With the possible exception of (b) – which, theoretically, I may have asked when YZG and I were considering buying something or another - I can’t recall ever asking any of these questions. But even if I did scrounge up the necessary courage to ask such a question, I certainly wouldn’t be able to do it with a straight face. Also, I’d feel the need to add an apologetic justification – such as, “I’m Israeli now, and so I’m allowed to ask…” :-)

HH 209

The latest edition of Haveil Havalim is available here.

Special thanks to Benji for including my "tremendous post".

KCC 40

Shavua tov!

The latest edition of the Kosher Cooking Carnival is available here.

Special thanks to Material Maidel for including my vegetarian kishke post. (To prepare a kosher for Pesach version of this recipe, simply use matzah meal instead of flour.)

You say “chavRUsah”; I say “chavruTAH”…

Does this sound familiar?

You bump into someone whom you knew way back before they made aliyah. And although you can personally attest to the fact that they used to say things like “shul,” “Shabbos,” “shalosheudes,” and “yontif” – now they’re suddenly talking about “beit knesset,” “Shabbat,” “seudah shlishit,” and “chag”.

You wonder if they have any idea how forced and artificial they sound, and you’re very tempted to make a snarky comment. (“Well, look at you! You’ve been in Israel, what? Like five minutes? And you’ve already turned into a complete and utter phony? Niiiice…”)

But then one day, you make aliyah yourself.

And a decade or so later, you find yourself referring to a “brit” which you attended and even wishing a warm “maZAL tov” to the “chaTAN” and the “kaLLAH” at a recent wedding.

And now you wonder if you sound forced and artificial…

Your thoughts?