Hanukah Cookout Part I

Every year as we approach Hanukkah I plan to fry up fabulous batches of latkes and doughnuts. Using the holidays as an opportunity to display to my children the mixed delights of Hanukah and cooking.

But then some how my plans go awry. 

The first two candles of Hanukah the children are still at school and their evening time is taken up with parties and rehearsals and visits to friends. And even once they are holidays from school after school activities plough on regardless so that is two evenings wiped out and Saturday evening is spent with the in-laws.

Then the Hanukah holiday frequently falls near the end of December when my husband is busy with preparations for stocking in addition to the usual end of the month rush and I have 'end of month', 'end of quarter', 'end of year' and 'plain badly scheduled' financial reports to churn out. 

My children are quite happy to sit at home vegging in front of the TV or trying out the news games they have received as Hanukah 'gelt' and my parents normally dream up some trip to take them on so I don't suffer too much parent guilt for letting my children turn into couch potatoes. But that doesn't leave much time for a family frying adventure.

Considering that, in contrast to previous years, I now work outside the house 2 mornings and 2 evenings a week a Hanukah frying fest this year did not seem likely but then, as my mother will tell you, I always like to be contrary.

First of all I now possess a deep fat fryer which is great as I have a phobia of deep frying.

Second I shelved the idea of cooking with the children. My kitchen is small, my children are restless and we are dealing with hot oil.....

Thirdly I just seem to be in the mood - the weather is cold and I actually got to wear my hat and scarf a couple of times, even gloves.

So we come to Monday evening - second candle of Hanukah. My children, as part of the local orchestra, had been asked to perform at a Hanukah 'do' for the local council. (I will not dwell of the irony of wind instruments and a gathering of local government!)

Well the local council did their usual inconsiderate best keeping the children waiting for over an hour while each council member in turn pontificated on the wonders performed by himself and his fellow council members. 

Blah, blah, blah 'Aren't we doing fantastic things for Shlomi!', blah, blah, blah, 'Forget about the corruption and nepotism!', blah, blah, blah, 'Vote for me!'

The conductor was furious (Go Reuven!) and threatened to send the children home without performing. Most of us parents sat outside making snide comments about the council gas-bags and reviewing the various types doughnuts and sfinge offered as festive refreshment.

Sfinge, being a traditional Moroccan recipe, has an oral traditional - perfect conversation fodder for a group of restless residents, in a town started by Moroccan immigrants, with no way to pass the time except chat ie I was told the recipe by one of the women I work with as we were waiting.

 

A transcript of our discussion 

Her: You take 1-11/2 kilos flour, a packet of shimrit and a hand full of sugar (holds out a cupped hand to give me an idea of the quantity). Mix. Add at least a teaspoon of salt, be generous with the salt it adds flavour. Add water. Mix until smooth.

Me: How much water? 

Her : I don't know. Enough. You need quite a soft dough. Let it rise for at least an hour. Also if you add some alcohol it makes them better!!! 

Invigorated with enthusiasm for Hanukah baking I decided to make .....

latkes

(Look to the top of this post. It says something about me being contrary:0)

Actually I was going to make both doughnuts and latkes but I remembered to buy potatoes and forgot the yeast!

Latkes frequently suffer from my lack of patience as I grab them from the pan when the potoatoes are still cruncy and almost totally uncooked.

So I watched a couple of videos on making latkes to relax. 

I grated my potatoes and onions, mixed in the flour and egg and then set my timer set at 3 minute intervals while I glanced at the TV through the kitchen doorway treating the latkes sizzling in the pan with a certain nonchalant disregard instead of my usual method of staring at them intently, hoping by force of will to make them to cook at Mach 3.

Success!

They were really tasty and after munching through a kilo of latkes my family decided they didn't need any supper. 

Latkes for the win!

Unfortunately I was being so nonchalant I forgot to take a photo!

The Orchestra

I have already mentioned that both my son and daughter are taking part in a wonderful orchestra project that has been started in Shlomi.

They enjoy playing their instruments and both of them are aware of the fact that they must practice to develop their embouchure and produce a clear sound.

My daughter has been playing a couple of months and already has a good sound.
My son has only been playing a month and at first he complained that after only a few minutes his mouth went 'wobbly'. We explain that this is what will happen until his muscles become strengthened though practice. He has taken this very seriously and once he has finished his homework he wanders round the flat trumpet in hand, even when he is watching TV. He practices for a few minutes, then rests, then practices again. Depending on her mood and how interesting the TV program my daughter tolerates the loud blasts or chucks him out of the room.

The Trumpet

A couple of weeks ago my daughter came home with the announcement that the orchestra was going on a trip. Everyone was going to a hostel in a small community about 15 miles away and they would be spending the night. It would be an opportunity to practice together and create a spirit of cohesion among the members of the orchestra who are of different ages and from both of Shlomi's schools.

I was excited for her. Both my husband and I have taken part in musical trips and we know what a fabulous experience they can be.

Last Wednesday my son came home from school, and his trumpet lesson, and informed me that he was to join his sister at orchestra practice that evening and the teacher had asked that a parent also put in an appearance.
I knew I had paid everything required so wondered what more paperwork I would be signing.

When I got there, the conductor informed that I had been asked to come because they wanted my son to join the orchestra trip. I checked with my son that it would be OK; although he had never been on an over-night trip before he would be with his sister and although most of the children were older than him, he is quite friendly with the boys from his sister's class.
Then I wandered off to pay for the trip and then phoned my husband to ask which restaurant he intending taking me to on our childfree night.

They set out yesterday afternoon. All the parents were crowding round the bus, some of them crying, others saying they would have to pay a visit later in the evening.
I don't really do the 'mother hen' thing. I blew kisses through the window and waved goodbye in the expectation that my children would have a fine time.

They returned home this morning full of stories about how much fun they had had mainly telling stories and playing games in their rooms until late in the night. They even played a little music!
My daughter was also proud to tell us that she had helped a younger girl learn how to hold her flute properly and place her fingers on the right keys.

The Flute

Of course are so much fun they were pretty tired out this evening but they still had enough energy to show off their instruments to the guests at my parents' for Shabbat meal.

Paperwork - (not) music to my ears

One of the annoyances you most often hear people complaining about in Israel is the bureaucracy. I have been here long enough to become inured to a certain extent and there is no doubt that in the 19 years I have been here government offices, the major source of irritation and bureaucracy, have improved their customer service by about 1000%.

However, I still occasionally encounter some pencil pusher who believes that the world economy will collapse if every form is not filled out in triplicate and passed through at least a dozen hands before finally coming to rest.

At the end of last year they started a wonderful project here in Shlomi - an orchestra.

The moment she heard about it my daughter became extremely excited, pondering daily about which instrument they would chose for her and how difficult it would be to play.

I was also ecstatic because not only is the project subsidised, most of the lessons take place during afternoon school so there are no scheduling clashes with other activities.

I always sang in the choir and played, if rather badly, in orchestra and even though I never had the slightest chance of making the concert circuit, creating music gave me many hours of pleasure.

Darling, the husband, was a skilled trombone player in his youth and has happy memories of time spent with the orchestra.

Trombone didn't seem a likely instrument for my daughter and although I still have my own clarinet from my days of mangling 'Sloop John B' at band I was sure that my daughter was destined to be a flautist.

So all is perfect. Well not quite. Although the lessons are during school, the project is run by an outside entity through the local community centre. The payments are made at the community centre but unlike all other activities there, I was given the paperwork to take home.

A fortnight later, after the first lesson, the teacher demanded that all the children must bring a receipt to show payment. All other teachers working from the community centre ask for the printout of the names but for some reason the music teachers must have the actual receipt.

I made a copy to ensure I have the receipt in my records and then sent my daughter to school with the piece of paper tucked into her diary, hoping it will not get lost among the thousands of other bits of paper crowding her school bag.

Next, the teacher said the children must bring in the liability form I had signed for the rental of the musical instrument. I made a copy of that and sent the form to school with my daughter. In the evening my daughter returned still in possession of the aforesaid form. The music teacher didn't have a suitable instrument for her and would only accept the form in exchange for the instrument.

That miserable piece of paper visited school with my daughter once a week for a month until they finally gave her the flute. I think congratulations and full marks go to my daughter for organisation. If that form had been in my school satchel for so long it would probably have ended up as a calculations sheet for my math homework.

After all the fun time we had playing with the paper work the orchestra actually got down to business and I was cast in the role of 'Proud Mummy' in September when the orchestra, including my daughter on flute, played at the First Day ceremonies of both the local schools.

I was also pleased to hear that this year my son would also have a chance to join the orchestra. I had a feeling that the trumpet would suit him best.

Like a good little parent, I arranged for payment as soon as possible. A week or so later I get a call form the community centre:

'You need to come and pay for you daughter's music.'

'I've already paid.'

'You've paid for the lessons but at first they decided only new students would pay for the rental of the instrument now they have changed their minds.'

'Brilliant! I can't get there to pay before the next lesson. They had better not hassle my daughter about the payment.' When things are not done on time my daughter gets anxious, not the state of mind most conducive to producing beautiful music.

My son went to his first music lesson and again they demanded receipts and forms.

I copied the forms twice this time; once my daughter and once for my son, but my son is not quite as organised as his sister and managed to misplace the form. In addition, he was so concerned about the teacher's warning to bring the receipt and forms he didn't go to the lesson. When he got home and told me this, I flipped.

After I calmed down I paid a visit to my friends at the community centre who agreed that the orchestra is peculiar among all courses held there in that they insist the child brings the receipt and form to the lessons rather than keeping them on file at the community centre.

Moreover, it seems they are so into the bureaucracy they have their own secretary.

I obtained the secretary's number from the nice lady a reception.

Next day I had a little word the secretary.

'No, my son will not be arriving at the lesson with his receipt as it has been lost due to his having to haul it round school with thousands of other bits of paper. You will go the community centre reception, just like every other teacher, and with the help of the printout confirm that both my children have paid and then you will inform their teachers.'

She grudgingly agreed to do that, all the time emphasising the fact that she could only do so IF I had actually paid, in a tone that suggested she had the gravest doubts that I had.

Then she informed me that my son would still have to bring the liability form to the next lesson in order to be able to take the instrument home.

Well that was not going to happen either. Remember that bit about my son losing papers?

I suggested that like every other activity they open a file at reception where I could hand in the form to be stored safely until it could be retrieved later on by her or one of the teachers. She didn't like that idea but eventually conceded that the day before they had arranged to have a drawer at reception and I could leave the form there.

Unbelievably it's only taken them 7 months to figure put that having a place at reception, where the parents fill in forms and make payments, to store the paperwork is more sensible than having primary school children traipsing round school with important paperwork wrapped round their sandwiches or stuffed in a pencil case.