I had a slight epiphany last night which created some much needed internal peace. A friend came over for dinner yesterday. It was the first time she had come to my house, so a tour was in order. My home is pretty self-explanatory, given that there are three rooms and all--living space, bedroom, bathroom. Tour is more of a grandiose affair and gives me thrills when I do it. Anyway, little quirks aside, one of the things that I feel the need to show certain people is my kitchen utensil drawer. Odd, I know. I don't have a mass quantity of drawers in my kitchen, four to be exact. And I love to cook and love even more little utensils and fun kitchen gadgets, space at a premium or not. The idea of having to use two of these precious drawers for everyday silverware was almost more than I could take. Target to the rescue. They have a drawer insert where the forks flip and so do the spoons, so there is twice as much space for everything, using the same size footprint as traditional holders. I was ecstatic when I found and purchased it.
Why is this a big deal? Because it means I can separate out dairy from meat flatware. My small spoons are for dairy (easier for eating cereal), big for meat. The forks with holes in them are for dairy, the ones without for meat. It's a big deal because every time I open it I am reminded that I am trying to keep kosher.
Why is this a big deal? Kashrut isn't one of the top ten mitzvot (think murder, steal, shabbat, etc). I don't even know if it makes the top 25. I seem fixated on it though.
And last night I partially figured out why. Kashrut observance is tangible, visible, challenging. When I have to decide what to bring to the company potluck and I opt for kosher hotdogs and a dessert that I can eat (parve that is), it sinks in a little further. When I still crave fast food and yet only the fries (love chick-fil-a and Arby's ones, yum!) it's embedded some more. Having a parve alternative to many things that don't really need dairy products, or that even imitate dairy (think soy milk and margarine) makes cooking so much easier.
While attempting the kosher-thing, I have been altering my perspective in addition to my diet. I started the process because I didn't feel right rejecting a practice without cause, esp. considering it has been going on for millennia. And what a difference doing something does for understanding it. Until very recently I thought I was pretending. I kept looking at my kitchen and my shopping habits and thinking "I'm not really doing this am I? I'm not really going this far? Who does this (with the exclusion of our orthodox friends as a notable exception)?"
I found myself incapable of throwing out marshmallows even though I knew I wouldn't eat them after finding out they have pork gelatin in them. But it was a fight, something I held on to fiercely, that I was not going to get that crazy. I cleaned out my cupboards and finally threw them out, stale as little rocks. Just a few days later, I was in the grocery store (personal pitch--King Soopers is more accommodating to the kosher-population than Safeway, so I shop there most frequently), getting frustrated that I couldn't find spaghetti sauce that was kosher. I was looking at every brand, every variety, when I happened on Barilla's garlic type and I saw the familiar OU. A piece of me sighed. Not just in relief but in peace. There was something comforting in knowing I didn't have to make my own sauce. I happily bought four jars. And no, I don't eat that much spaghetti, but just in case they pull this off the shelf and stop selling it, I want this feeling to last.
As said earlier, I love to bake, but I don't always need things. This particular night, I didn't need to go down the bakers aisle and yet I found myself wandering that way. I had to pass the candy lane on my way there. This was depressing. A fellow kashrut participant told me not that long ago that Skittles weren't kosher. And anyone that knows me, knows this is my all time favorite candy. My 19yr cat is named after them (give me a break, I was 8 when I named her). I could feel the bitterness rising. Then the marshmallows reared their ugly tempting head. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a treat I haven't had or even thought of in years--Jet Puff Fluff, marshmallow crème. With an exasperated hand and cynical eye, I glanced at the label, with no expectation. To my utter surprise, there it was, K in a little circle. I actually clapped my hands and hugged the jar and yes, let out a tear.
Keeping kosher doesn't mean depriving myself. Keeping kosher gives me additional tools to evaluate my relationship to Judaism, Jewish people (past and present). Keeping kosher reminds me all day long that I am Jewish and that 'title' means something very dear to me. Keeping kosher is a tangible activity, a public announcement, a personal acceptance to my life. That was my epiphany.
So for now, I will continue to struggle with kashrut and all the things it symbolizes and brings up. And I will continue to find comfort in the little things like fluffernutter sandwiches.
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