We Eat, Therefore We Are

BY JOEL CHASNOFF

Over the course of history, the Jewish nation has come to be known as “The People of the Book”—an affectionate reference to our Biblical roots, our passion for study, and our love for all works of fiction recommended by Oprah. The nickname, however, is arbitrary. For example, we could just as well be known as “The People of Three Daily Prayers,” or “The People Who All Know Each Other."

The arrival of Purim brings with it the possibility of yet another appropriate name for our nation—“The People of the Cook.” For the undeniable fact is, we Jews like to define ourselves by what we ingest. Never is this more evident than Purim time, when we partake of Oznay Haman, literally “Haman’s Ears,” and, in doing so, become the only religion on the planet to commemorate a holiday by eating the antagonist’s body parts.

It’s quite a concept—this digestion of the bad guy. I grew up going to Jewish Day School; I’ve always kept a traditional home, so I’ve never given second thought to this semi-cannibalistic practice. I kind of like it, to tell you the truth. It adds something real to our victory over Haman—the fact that not only did we defeat him, but now we’re eating him. We should do that at every holiday. What could be more appetizing than a nice hot serving of Pharaoh’s Fingers? Mmmm, yummy!

The List of Crazy Jewish Foods is by no means restricted to Purim. In April, we eat a tangy mixture of apples, wine, cinnamon, and chopped nuts—a delightfully tasty combo that represents the mortar between the bricks we laid in Egypt. We celebrate Hanukah by eating the latke, a deep-fried potato pancake dripping in grease. It’s really quite ironic, if you think about it:  Hanukah celebrates the fact that the oil lasted for eight days, and now, thousands of years later, we remember this miracle by eating a food which has eight times the amount of oil recommended by the Food and Drug Administration. What would Judah Maccabee say now if he knew that his bravery led to the blockage of his ancestors’ aortas?

Our obsession with food is not limited to holidays. Ask any Jewish person if his neighborhood is Jewish, and he’ll immediately tell you how many Kosher restaurants are in the vicinity: “Oh yeah, man, it’s really Jewish where I live! We’ve got two delis and a kosher bakery and even a kosher Chinese place!” It’s not synagogues, schools, or houses of learning that define our geographical Judaism. It’s the availability of corned beef and brisket and chicken with that little metal tag on it that tells us if we are Jewishly in the “right place."

That we define ourselves by our food is in no way random. The essence of Judaism is that we are what we ingest. Keeping kosher is a means of self-knowledge; when we monitor what we put into our bodies, we monitor ourselves. In Judaism, food is not merely what keeps us alive. Food is an experience, something to treasure, just as life is to be treasured. And the only true way to experience our people’s slavery in Egypt is to taste their tears. The only way to experience the joy of overcoming Haman the Tyrant is by eating his ears.

I know what you’re thinking— that this is just too goofy. To that I reply: who cares if it sounds goofy? Every religion gets a little goofy here and there. At the very least, our foods have a connection with the story we’re remembering (if someone can explain the connection between chocolate rabbits and the return of the Lord’s son after a three day underground hiatus, be my guest).

So whether it’s Matzoh in the springtime, Latkes in December, or nothing at all on Yom Kippur, we Jews know that to truly internalize a holiday we must literally internalize the holiday. So pass me an Ear of Haman, and go easy on the fruit filling, please (I never was a fan of ear wax).

Happy Purim.

Reprinted with permission from the AVI CHAI Bookshelf, where birthright Israel alumni can order free books and periodicals.