I am a Jew (ish). Growing up, I went to temple every (other) Friday night, sneakily ate pop-tarts during Passover, learned how to read Hebrew- with absolutely no idea what I was saying- opened a present every night for eight crazy nights, and complained endlessly about how it is so unfair we have to eat burnt crackers while the gentiles play with gigantic bunnies and scavenge for candy.
After my bat-mitzvah, I more or less peaced out of the whole Judasim thing; religion just wasn’t for me. On the contrary, my sister minored in Jewish Studies, dated nice Jewish boys, and lived in Israel. And, her name is Arielle…a honest to God (note* God, and not his homeboy, JC) Jewish name.
Less than two months after moving to Dallas, Arielle has already formed a Jew Crew, and has steadily been chipping away at my resolve to steer clear of religion.
Arielle first enticed me with a jumping balloon, and then, with food. She knows me well.
I first met Arielle’s Jew Crew at a St. Paddy’s Day party, where the host had copious amounts of liquor flowing and a jumping balloon in the front yard. The following day, I re-met everyone I had no memory of meeting the previous night, at a Jewish Chili Cook Off (really, I couldn’t make this up). Several weeks later, I accompanied my sister to Passover dinner at a rabbi’s house…where I was just a little weirded out with the whole chanting-in-a-foreign-tongue thing… but, the food was really good.
I’ve made some faux-paus in getting re-acquainted with the Jew Crew (note to self: do not try to shake an orthodox rabbi’s hand. It will create an awkward social situation), and I will likely draw the line at returning to temple, but I have to say… I’m kind of digging the Jew Crew.
For more information about how to be a part of the Jew Crew without being Jewish, while eating delicious food, please see “White Chocolate Challah Bread Pudding“, by the baking and blogging extraordinaire, Laura.