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SisterSchmooze

Marcia Stark Meth / Emmy Stark Zitter / Miriam Stark Zakon

What Jew doesn’t have a Kosel tale to tell? Not necessarily a major spiritual revelation or an open miracle — it may be just a seeming coincidence or a simple gastronomic experience that has somehow been elevated to a spiritual encounter. We sisters can tell such tales by the dozen. We’d like to share three.

Tuesday, September 01, 2015

Come, my foodie friend. Yes, you — the one who doesn’t just look longingly at those gorgeous Family First recipes, but who actually spends hours in the kitchen preparing them (and then serving them on bone china plates, with chargers, runners, and handmade placemats). The one who’s on a first-name basis with the staff of the best high-end restaurants. Come, because I’m going to take you to a place where the food is better than anything you’ve ever tasted. Come with me to the Kosel. Yes, you heard right. Spiced with authentic spirituality, leavened with chesed, and served in an ambience of true kedushah, for foodies with neshamos — the Kosel is the place to eat. Start at sunrise. Have you ever davened k’vasikin at the Wall? Then you’ve felt it: the murmur of dozens of minyanim, the klop on a wooden table, the sudden silence that covers the plaza like a soft blanket welcoming a newborn day to this world. This is the first moment a Jew bends his knees before Hashem, and we’re there to receive it at the place where His Shechinah rests. When the tefillos are over, we move to the back of the plaza to welcome the day with rugelach and a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. No cappuccino here, no lattes or macchiatos. Here you get plain Israeli coffee, and the barista is a man who arrives hours before dawn every single day for no reason other than to bring warmth to the people who have risen early. As you watch the yeshivah guys, the soldiers, and, yes, the Arab women in their hijabs who keep the restrooms clean, all sipping from those brown disposable cups, courtesy of a man whose chesed embraces all humanity, you get a taste ofOlamHaba that no Starbucks can match.

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MM217
 
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