Monday, October 5, 2015
This is the start of an
interesting week for me. Since the week begins on Sunday, my
interesting started yesterday when Michael Ratner and I went to the last
regular season Mets game. With a start time of 3:10 PM, we were able
to go to lunch at Ben’s Best Kosher Delicatessen, 96-40 Queens
Boulevard, Rego Park (not to be confused with the half dozen Ben’s
Kosher Delicatessens in New York and Florida). Ben’s Best is the best,
as I have insisted before. Michael, who has eaten deli in at least half
the countries that belong to the United Nations, agrees, although his
name has been removed from one of their sandwiches after he relocated
his business to Manhattan from a nearby Queens location.
The baseball game was more interesting than expected, as the Mets, headed for the playoffs, brought players in and out to audition for the upcoming championship rounds. The opponents, the Washington Nationals, might have been playing for pride, if they had any left after ending the season without moving into the playoffs when many picked them to go to the World Series. Instead, the Nationals got 2 hits against 7 different Mets pitchers, lost 1-0, and fired their manager today, less than 24 hours later. That’s the same manager voted the 2014 Manager of the Year.
I probably won’t be seeing any more
baseball live in person until next spring, but my anticipated absence
from Chinese food should last far less. We are going to Spain later
this week, so I went to Wo Hop, 17 Mott Street, for lunch to help ease
the transition. Most remarkably, they are continuing their lunch soup
special, won ton, egg drop, egg drop with won ton, hot and sour, or
chicken corn chowder, $1 small, $2 large. This special was originally a
summer mid-week deal, but now appears more often although not
predictably. Add Wo Hop’s crispy noodles, the very best known to
humankind, and you have a great and filling treat. Because I planned to
order food as well, I had only a small bowl of won ton soup, no
noodles. The five won ton crowded the broth in the small bowl, making
it such a deal.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Last
night, through no fault of my own, I had a central role in West End
Synagogue’s Simchat Torah holiday celebration. I got to read the last
three sentences of Deuteronomy, ending the Bible (that’s the real Bible,
the Hebrew Bible). Unlike most Jewish holidays, Simchat Torah is free
of murderous historic references or apocalyptic visions; it is a
celebration of the Book – learning, knowledge, law by extension. It is
generally not celebrated by Republicans.
West End Synagogue takes an interesting twist to the occasion. All
in attendance, young and old, array themselves around the perimeter of
the room, holding an unwound Torah scroll. Recent Bar and Bat Mitzvahs
chant a section of the Torah that was part of their service. Then, the
Groom and Bride of the Torah read the end of Deuteronomy and beginning
of Genesis to continue the cycle of Torah study and observance for
another year. Besides the problem of reading the Hebrew out loud, I
(the Groom) faced the challenge of reading the bottom lines of a scroll
about one foot off the ground. I had the unsightly and undignified
choice of lying on the floor or, with the permission of our clergy,
standing on my two hind legs and reading from a sheet of paper
reproducing the Torah section. It might have been wiser for me to lie
on the floor to better justify my muffled, stumbling delivery in Hebrew
of “And there was no other prophet who arose in Israel like Moses, whom
the Lord knew face to face.” What I chanted actually sounded closer to the menu of a Tel Aviv falafel joint than
holy writ.
I wish that the following was not
the last thing that I read before packing my bag and heading overseas.
“In America, more preschoolers are shot dead each year (82 in 2013)
than police officers are in the line of duty (27 in 2013), according to
figures from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the
FBI.” Nicholas Kristof, October 4, 2105.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Intrepid
traveling companions Jill and Steve are accompanying the Upper West
Side’s Power Couple on our trip to Barcelona, Spain. Our somewhat uneventful flight
(details withheld for the time being) led to an uneventful taxi ride
to our well-located hotel, where we took uneventful naps, followed
by, in my case, an uneventful shave and an uneventful shower.
We ventured out through the Gothic quarter, past the main cathedral
and over to La Rambla, where many more people were out for a
stroll than I would have
imagined on a Wednesday afternoon in early October.
Unfashionably early, we headed into
dinner at Llamber, Taberna Gastronomica, Carrer Fusina 5, right
around the corner from our hotel. What luck. Llamber
specializes in tapas, and provided an assortment of highly
imaginative dishes, accompanied by about 20 different wines by the
glass, 3 to 4 euros each. The memorable items that we consumed
included eggplant cooked with honey and lemon juice (so much better
than can be described), lighter-than-air cod fish fritters, very
lightly cooked slices of tuna, fingerling potatoes topped with
whipped local Asturian cheese (a combination of cow, sheep and goat
cheese), and tomato bread (the local bruschetta, far better than any
that I've ever had). Did I say that I liked the meal?
Conscience made us walk a few blocks away before getting some gelato.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
We had a relatively
active day today. In the morning, we took a walking tour of Jewish
sights/sites in Barcelona. Or, rather where there were once or suspected Jewish
sights/sites, since essentially nothing remains of a pre-Inquisition
population of thousands of people. There is a street name here, a notch
on a doorpost where a mezuzah was once fixed, a small two room space
which contained part of a synagogue -- the largest synagogue could not
be larger than the smallest church. In the afternoon, we visited the Picasso museum, an impressive and popular destination. Picasso lived in Barcelona for a few years at the turn of the 20th century, but not anywhere in the space now devoted to his work. What surprised me was the enormous talent that he displayed as a young boy/man, remarkable, large, representational oil paintings created when he was 14 and 15 years old. The collection on display was only a sample of his work, skipping the decades from before WWI to after WWII. Yet, seeing his earlier art was revelatory to me, and elevated my view of what had evolved into the caricature of a dirty old man.
Friday, October 9, 2015
This is not meant to be a travel log, but we visited the most compelling attraction in Barcelona today, Basilica de la Sagrada Familia, the immense cathedral designed by the brilliant Antoni Gaudi, an architect without peer. If you have not seen it in person, please take a few minutes on the web site.
http://www.sagradafamilia.org/en/photo-gallery/
It's as if Gaudi was anticipating the pleasure of future generations of recreational drug users with this work.
http://www.sagradafamilia.org/en/photo-gallery/
It's as if Gaudi was anticipating the pleasure of future generations of recreational drug users with this work.
At home, I almost never attend Friday synagogue services, but this is vacation and all the rules are suspended. Also, we were curious as to what a local congregation would be like. We chose a "liberal" synagogue, as opposed to one of the two Orthodox synagogues operating in Barcelona. Because of security, our names were phones in by a trusted congregant and ID was checked at the door. The building was unmarked, but the presence of police cars and armed cops at each nearby corner helped to point the way.
It was an interesting group of about 15 people at the service, one couple older than us, visiting from Puerto Rico, one 40ish woman from Paris, a couple of local men with gray in their beards, and about 10 kids -- college age, from Argentina, recently or originally. Services were led by a 30ish woman, neither a rabbi not a canter, but very talented in directing the service, almost entirely sung in Hebrew.
Shortly after we arrived, another couple walked in, near our age. Not only near our age, but Americans; not only Americans, but having lived on the Upper West Side for years; not only having lived on the Upper West Side for years, but members of West End Synagogue. In fact, Jackie and Len Goldner had both served as president of our rag tag bunch of anarchic Jews. You can run, but . . .
.love following your travels. Missrd you both today.
ReplyDeletefound this particularly interesting since Bert and I went to the 92 Olympics in Barcelona. We were there two weeks and found it as interesting as you apparently have. We also went to the synagogue. I knew Jackie and Lenny were in Barcelona, how fun that you all met up!
ReplyDeleteEnjoy enjoy