Life of Yeshiva Guy

Bored and hunting some entertainment of the human interactive sort, I survey a juicy target surveying a sort of cup or thermos device with eager anticipation.

“Shalom Aleichem, R’ Yid. Is that a portable French Press?”, I ask, the badly disguised sense of wonder in my voice betraying me.

“It certainly is, my friend. I’m just about finished brewing, and as it happens, this makes half a cup extra. Would you like some?”, the middle aged guy with the graying temples and faded blue Toronto Maple Leafs cap and matching sweatshirt offers.

“I’d like nothing better”, I answer, sliding myself into the armchair next to him, and settling in comfortably. Meanwhile, he pulls out a package of  mini “Shock” chocolate milks from his duffel. My luck holds, as a cursory inspection reveals that the milks bear a Badatz Eidah hashgacha; mochachinos, here we come. He carefully pours the aromatic chestnut brown liquid into two hot cups, and my mouth waters. Yup, this is gashmius.

It is a mini Bein Hazmanim, of sorts, and I’m up North at a small sports complex. It’s a mite chilly out, and I’m exhausted after a long day of traveling and exercise.
“L’Chaim“, I say, leaning back, sipping the piping hot java. I ask the friendly Canuck where he hails from, although the answer is patently obvious. “Haifa, by way of Toronto- you?”, he queries in reply. After telling him a little about myself, we begin to discuss Anglo life in Tel Aviv, and raising children there. His eldest, Amichai, is attending the local pseudo-Charedi yeshiva. Immensely proud of him, he calls him over. “Amichai, meet YG”. We schmooze for a bit- I ask him what masechta he’s learning, what he got for Chanukah, etc. The father isn’t proud for nothing. The child is an exceptionally intelligent, well adjusted, personable eighth grader if I ever saw one. Soon, he wanders off, leaving us to be mamshich our conversation.

Daddy continues by describing the progress his son has made in the Chareidi cheder. His son has taken to Gemara like a kibbutznik to the army, and is in love with it; on some days, he prefers learning to Xbox, PlayStation, or whatever video game console the family owns. Once in a while he even learns by himself. Daddy seems to revel in his son’s growth, and this is as it should be. No fan of learning vicariously himself, he begins every day at 5:30AM, and learns a full morning seder after Shacharis on alternating weekdays. The other days, various shiurim and chavrusahshafts take up the remainder of his free time. Indeed, a Dati Leuminik k’hilchoso. And although gratified by his son’s joy in learning, he now has a serious problem.

It seems that his son has reached the grade level where they must choose a yeshiva ketanah for next year- the Israeli equivalent of junior high school. And apparently, the yeshiva he is now in doesn’t offer a very advanced general studies curriculum at that grade level. The father, personally, might potentially be all right with a home study type of solution, but his wife…never. This, of course, means he must send him to a place that does offer more advanced studies. The only local place that has a decent English program? Bnei Akiva. So there it is. The age old question of academics vs. Torah. By the time he’s finished outlining his dilemma, I’m nodding my head fairly vigorously. Saying I am familiar with this is an understatement. At some point, many yeshiva bochurim deal with this problem- particularly those from less yeshivishe backgrounds, where the parents have a decided sway towards secular studies. More than one chaver of mine has had to deal with this, at varying levels of seriousness. At the far end of the spectrum, we have university; Boruch Hashem, so far, I haven’t had any friends encounter the college conundrum, but certainly as we move more towards the right on the scale, even yeshivishe chevra deal with this. But back to our charitable coffee nadvan…

Wrapping up, he looks at me with a sort of sheepish face. He knows what I think about all this. Thank G-d. Because I certainly don’t want to get involved in his shalom bayis. All I need to do is acknowledge his rueful mien with a subtle confirming glance- which I attempt- and we should be copacetic.

We aren’t. He doesn’t let it go.

“So, nu, what do you think?”, he pushes. “Is it k’dai to send him to the Bnei Akiva school? He’s excelling in Gemara, and I know that it won’t be nearly the same there.” Now, I really am at a loss. He knows what I think. I think he’s an idiot for sending his kid into the abyss because of his spiritual Mata Hari. I think that if, after millenia of life in societies where we didn’t have the option or wherewithal b’chlall to send our offspring to cheder, and you now have both, you’ve got to be meshugah to even contemplate anything else.

“I think it’s none of my business, but you’re pushing me. You’re going to have to think this through yourself, but to put it one way: What you want and what is right happen to coincide. In the end, it boils down to this: Do you want your kid to be a beanie wearing barista, or a bochur swilling the beans he’s serving”?

So saying, I finish off  the remaining dregs of coffee, and stand up and look down at him.

“Whatever happens, achi, remember this. It’s all about one thing. Make sure all decisions reflect this one thing, and you’ll be fine…

L’Chaim“.

This particular patchkeville was put out sometime last year in Yerushalayim. It is a likut of ma’amorim expressed by Gedolei Hador concerning Lubavitch. A critical point to note is that rov of these vertlach were said on Chabad before the Meshichistim emerged as a threat to Yiddishkeit, and indeed, before the Rebbe was niftar. Also note that the opinions expressed below are not necessarily my own; merely those of the greatest gedolim of the previous half century. I have only transcribed about half the zugs. Perhaps I’ll add more later. Many of the zugs were originally in Yiddish/Ivrit, and read better in the original. I’ve attempted to remain as close to the literal translation, even at the expense of losing some of the punch.

Brisker Rav (Upon reading the Rebbe’s first maamer, Ba’asi L’gani):
This meshuggener has convinced himself that he is Moshiach. We will suffer yet from him.

Rav Ahron Kotler (Upon asking him about Lubavitch):
It smells like Avodah Zarah, and they are perverting all sorts of perversions in the foundations of the faith.

Rav Yechezkel Abramsky:
From all the different religions, the movement that most closely resembles Judaism is Lubavitch.

Rav Chaim Shmulevitz (Upon being told that Lubavitch does many good things):
The Vatican also does good things.

Rav Elya Lopian (Upon hearing the Horaos from 770):
That student from Paris won’t tell us his beliefs.

Rav Kloift:
It is lucky for us that he isn’t a deep person; had he been deep, he might have reached the level of Shabbesai Tzvi.

Rav Hutner (Upon hearing about Lubavitch):
Christianity.

Satmar Rav (Upon hearing that the Lubavitcher Rebbe had said the following in response to the Satmar Rav’s opposition: Do not be impressed by the Satmar Rav’s opposition; we already find by R’ Yishmael Kohen Godol that he served as K”G for 80 years and then became a Tzidoki- implying that the Satmar Rav had been a godol but now should be stripped of his leadership status, having now become a “Tzidoki“):
Yes, but that a person should be a Tzidoki for 80 years and then become a Kohen Godol…this we’ve never heard of.

An oldie but goodie.

Turns out BMG (Beis Medrash Govoha) had their very own Chanukah nes this year.

They gave one Shabbos off, and it turned into eight days.

Warm, dripping in oil, and sweet inside. No, that wasn’t a description of yeshiva bochurim. I was, of course, referring to sufganiyot. Bochurim, and everyone else, wait in anticipation for sufganiyah season all year round. Finally, it’s here. Consider this your seasonal primer on Sufganiyot, so study it carefully and review as often as necessary. I do not take responsibility for the kashrus of the listed establishments, although at the time of this writing they were all Mehadrin, either Rubin or Badatz Eidah.

Sufganiyot are the Israeli version of donuts, typically filled with cheap, substandard red jelly. But that’s OK. We love ‘em anyway. Available in multiple styles and with all sorts of different fillings, we’ve toured Yerushalayim to bring you the very best of sufganiyot. (Obviously, only bakeries with a Mehadrin hashgacha are being reviewed).

First up is Brooklyn. No Jerusalem donut guide would be complete without mentioning Brooklyn Bakery. Legend has it that they import all ingredients from America, including the sugar and flour. In fact the only bakery on this list that offers donuts all year, Chanukah time sees a serious ramping up of their donut line. Offering a total of 12 different donuts, it is safe to say that Brooklyn is the king of donuts. We recommend trying the cappuccino with almond slivers donut, and the cinnamon crueller (although not technically a donut). Also ask about their cake donuts. The bad news is that they typically run out around 4PM; if you plan on picking some of these up, make sure to go early, and plan for a long wait in line. Located on Malchei Yisroel ?.

Israel is home to some excellent caramel factories; caramel here is sweet, slightly syrupy, and B”H for coffee lovers, available separately in little glass jars. I’ve even seen these little jars exported to America, for those who don’t eat chalav stam. Naturally, many bakeries take advantage of the relatively cheap filing and offer caramel based sufganiyot. Ask around in Geulah, and everyone will tell you that Pizza Uri’s (not technically a bakery, but who cares) has the very best caramel donuts (Chalavi). I tend to agree. TIP: Buy ten and get one free. Located on Malchei Yisroel 6, (02) 537-0119.

Finally, the world of the vintage jelly filled donut is hot competition. With so many contenders, the space has become overloaded with cheap, low quality product. Whatever you do, do not for a second contemplate just picking up a donut being sold in the cardboard boxes in the local makolet. Definitely do make sure, however, to check out AviChayil bakery, a Jerusalem icon in its own right. AviChayil offers both caramel (Chalavi) and jelly based (Parve) donuts. In my opinion, their jelly donuts are better, although the dira is split down the middle on AviChayil. Located on Pri Chadash 8, (02) 538-5556.

There is also a place in Sanhedria Murchevet that allows you to customize your own donut, to a degree. They are open 24/7, and supposedly make some amazing donuts. I hope to make it there over the course of Chanukah to provide my loyal readers with a personal opinion.

This post will, iy”H, be updated over the next few days with the individual bakeries’ locations, some additional ones, and other info. If you have any recommendations of places that I’ve missed, please email or comment (Mehadrin only, please).

The photo, which, by the way, I almost ate, was taken by Mordechai Hanover of Jerusalem Shutter.

I have been one acquainted with the light
I have lit the menorah— and the shamash
I have always been acquainted with the light

I have stared long at flickering flame
I have sang and learnt by its side
Until one with the light I became

I have danced and made merry
When nearby I heard song’s sound
Drinking, downing, glasses of sherry

But not in an unseemly fashion
On Chanukah we are pseudo-serious
Finding Torahdike ways to channel our passion

Lighting and learning, each night
I have been one acquainted with the light.