….Honey please enlighten my dumbass. Teach me the way of the bialy
i love you both, first of all, you sweet silly googleless children. this is a bialy:
it is like a bagel but not boiled before baking, and also typically smaller and airier. as you can see it is usually baked with onion on top. it is an ashkenazi jewish thing mainly and is usually sold alongside bagels if you’re somewhere that is Doing The New York Jewish Bagel Thing. it can be put to similar cream cheese + smoked fish uses as bagels but really it’s its own thing! good for toasts, good for butter, good to just eat by itself because you’re too lazy to cut it in half.
now you know! lessons in the foods of my people!
i have today alone had to explain to eight (8!!) people what a bialy is
i know that this is due to like, i know a lot of goys and a lot of people who are not in touch with True Bagel Culture due to not being from like, skokie, or new york, or poland. but like? bialys?????? have you all just been toasting and buttering bagels instead? love yourselves?
roommates: a werewolf and a jew. the werewolf is the shabbes goy and the jew is the person with thumbs who does things like turn doorknobs on the full moon. wacky hijinks ensue every time the full moon falls on a holiday.
when a jewish holiday is coming up but you can’t remember which one
“God of our fathers, we have no calendars, and no clue what we should be doing right now. We hope this is at least partially correct. Amen.”
“blessed are you oh lord our god, ruler of the universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach….. some season. not sure which. definitely one of them, though.”
happy whatever it is that we’re celebrating this time!
Jews wanting to know if someone is Jewish is very different from goyim wanting to know if someone is Jewish
There’s an old Jewish joke about that, because of course there is.
dare i ask what it is
(look, I left that wide open, somebody had to ask what it is)
So it’s sometime in late-19th-century Europe, and a little old Jewish man is taking a journey by train. Where’s he going? I don’t know where he’s going, that’s not part of the story. He’s just sitting there in the train car with his little suitcase, minding his own business, maybe watching the scenery go by, when suddenly –
– suddenly the door between cars opens, and a big burly guy swaggers in and plants himself in the middle of the aisle, and bellows “Are there any Jews in this car?”
Of course there’s dead silence, and of course our guy is frozen, because all his personal and cultural experience tells him that answering yes automatically to that question is not a survival-oriented behavior.
“Any Jews in this car?” the big man repeats, getting impatient – and he looks like the kind of man who gets angry when he’s impatient.
Except our guy is suddenly angry himself, because it’s not right that this kind of question should make him so afraid.
So he drops his suitcase on the floor, thump, and he gets to his feet and he shouts “Yes! I’m a Jew! What do you care?”
And the big man looks at him and beams like the sun coming up, and says “Chasdei Hashem! Come with me, reb yid, we need a tenth for a minyan in the next car.”
must a sport be entertaining to watch? 