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April 9, 2014

Jonathan Tobin: Why Did Kerry Lie About Israeli Blame?

Samuel G. Freedman: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Jessica Ivins: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Kim Giles: Asking for help is not weakness

Kathy Kristof and Barbara Hoch Marcus: 7 Great Growth Israeli Stocks

Matthew Mientka: How Beans, Peas, And Chickpeas Cleanse Bad Cholesterol and Lowers Risk of Heart Disease

Sabrina Bachai: 5 At-Home Treatments For Headaches

The Kosher Gourmet by Daniel Neman Have yourself a matzo ball: The secrets bubby never told you and recipes she could have never imagined

April 8, 2014

Lori Nawyn: At Your Wit's End and Back: Finding Peace

Susan B. Garland and Rachel L. Sheedy: Strategies Married Couples Can Use to Boost Benefits

David Muhlbaum: Smart Tax Deductions Non-Itemizers Can Claim

Jill Weisenberger, M.S., R.D.N., C.D.E : Before You Lose Your Mental Edge

Dana Dovey: Coffee Drinkers Rejoice! Your Cup Of Joe Can Prevent Death From Liver Disease

Chris Weller: Electric 'Thinking Cap' Puts Your Brain Power Into High Gear

The Kosher Gourmet by Marlene Parrish A gift of hazelnuts keeps giving --- for a variety of nutty recipes: Entree, side, soup, dessert

April 4, 2014

Rabbi David Gutterman: The Word for Nothing Means Everything

Charles Krauthammer: Kerry's folly, Chapter 3

Amy Peterson: A life of love: How to build lasting relationships with your children

John Ericson: Older Women: Save Your Heart, Prevent Stroke Don't Drink Diet

John Ericson: Why 50 million Americans will still have spring allergies after taking meds

Cameron Huddleston: Best and Worst Buys of April 2014

Stacy Rapacon: Great Mutual Funds for Young Investors

Sarah Boesveld: Teacher keeps promise to mail thousands of former students letters written by their past selves

The Kosher Gourmet by Sharon Thompson Anyone can make a salad, you say. But can they make a great salad? (SECRETS, TESTED TECHNIQUES + 4 RECIPES, INCLUDING DRESSINGS)

April 2, 2014

Paul Greenberg: Death and joy in the spring

Dan Barry: Should South Carolina Jews be forced to maintain this chimney built by Germans serving the Nazis?

Mayra Bitsko: Save me! An alien took over my child's personality

Frank Clayton: Get happy: 20 scientifically proven happiness activities

Susan Scutti: It's Genetic! Obesity and the 'Carb Breakdown' Gene

Lecia Bushak: Why Hand Sanitizer May Actually Harm Your Health

Stacy Rapacon: Great Funds You Can Own for $500 or Less

Cameron Huddleston: 7 Ways to Save on Home Decor

The Kosher Gourmet by Steve Petusevsky Exploring ingredients as edible-stuffed containers (TWO RECIPES + TIPS & TECHINQUES)

Jewish World Review December 6, 2012/ 22 Kislev, 5773

Feasting on scraps: The reality behind a life habit

By Sharon Randall




http://www.JewishWorldReview.com | On his way off to work, he kissed me goodbye, then stopped to raise an eyebrow.

"You taste like tortilla chips," he said suspiciously.

It was 9 a.m. Who eats tortilla chips for breakfast?

"I packed some in your lunch," I said, pointing to the lunch pail he was carrying. "I ate the crumbs off the counter."

"Oh," he nodded, and left.

My husband knows that I eat scraps. He's seen me do it plenty of times. I've been doing it more or less all my life.

It started when I was little. After supper, my mother would tell me to do the dishes.

"Yes, ma'am," I'd say gladly. After everybody left the table, I had my pick of leftovers.

For the record, I never ate anything from my stepfather's plate. He loved red hot chili peppers, an acquired taste I had yet to acquire. You can get in a lot of trouble, I learned the hard way, scrounging scraps from pepper lover's plate.

Same for my brother Joe — not for the heat, but the lack of it. He never left a smudge. He'd wipe his plate clean with his last bite of cornbread, then pop that last bite in his mouth.

His plate was so clean, you could put it right back on the shelf and nobody would ever notice.

I know this for a fact because I did it. More than once. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

My mother's plate was gold. She loved sweets. She always left a bite or two of bread pudding or pound cake or peach cobbler. I swear it tasted better on her plate than on mine.

PRIZE PLATE
But the real treasure came from my baby brother, Monkey Boy. He never ate anything worth eating — creamed corn, cantaloupe, collard greens, fresh tomatoes from the garden. My mother would heap them on his plate and he would pass them all up like poison, leave them lying where they lay, waiting for me.

He didn't even like biscuits. I mean, seriously. Who doesn't like biscuits? Especially the way my mother made them, melt-in-your-mouth tender, lighter than the wings of angels.

I could have survived quite happily on those biscuits. Actually, I pretty much did.

When I left home for college, the scrap-eating stopped for a while. One does not scavenge leftovers in a college cafeteria, unless one wants to spend all night in the infirmary.

But I picked it up again after I married and had three babies. I've eaten a lot more meals from a plastic high-chair tray than from any piece of fine china.

Opportunity
At first it was a matter of timing. When my children were small, I had precious little time for eating from a plate. So I ate whatever they left on their tray.

As they grew older, it became a matter of frugality. I hated to waste what they refused to eat. So I ate it all. It was good.

FINISHING UP
Now the kids are grown, but I do the same for my husband. I finish his leftovers, much the way I finish his sentences.

I always figured it was a womanly trait, something we all do as daughters, wives and mothers. Until recently, when I got a call from my youngest.

We were talking, he and I, when I heard in the background my 2-year-old grandson.

"Hold on, Mom," said my son, turning his attention to his 2-year-old. "What's that, buddy? You want your mac 'n' cheese? It's all gone. I thought you were finished. I, uh, ate the rest of it."

WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT
There was a brief moment of silence, then the 2-year-old began to wail, brokenhearted.

"I'm sorry, buddy," his dad said, laughing, "but there were only, like, three shells left!"

And that's when I finally understood it. Eating scraps isn't about women or men or moms or dads or whatever.

It's simply about survival.

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Previously:


The only tradition to keep absolutely

The class hears from the teacher's mom

We live in different towns, but share the same home

The value of one true friend

With Sandy raging, a 'which' kind of day

The connections that truly matter

Children don't need much --- but need to know they matter

Cancer is everyone's story

When does 'happily ever after' begin?

Is there ever a good way to say goodbye?

The being and the finding

When fishing, she lands companionship

Trophy sunsets

Helping a friend find the way

A home abloom with family and sunflowers

Healing is our highest calling

Needing help can really make you feel so, well . . . helpless

The bedspread from hell

A phone call to treasure

It was close to the best gift my father had ever received

It was the right time --- not a moment too late or too soon

25 tips for staying married

Some people water your soul --- a storm worth waiting for

Driving country roads helps restore hope

Confessions of a bad-weather magnet

The new star of my husband's harem

Shared family moments are precious, irreplaceable

What I'll remember from serving on the jury in a murder case

When someone walks into your life and never lets you go

Look for beauty

We can't always 'be there' when we're needed

Picture-perfect memories

To love someone is to want to hear all their stories

With age should come at least some wisdom

A story for my grandson

Regretting she didn't help out a woman in need

Post-holiday-visit blues

For 2012, tuck some hope into your wallet

The measure of a time well spent is not where you went or what you did. It's the way you smile remembering it

Treating people we love like the Jello salad at Thanksgiving dinner

We all need something or someone to pull for

Hold on to treasured words, don't trust memory

A storybook princess

Love reaches forward, never back

How to Watch a Sunset

Waiting often comes with gifts

An exceptional book club

There is no guilt in moving forward

Celebrations full of love and buttercream

It takes a whole village of shoes to raise a child

The best stories always tell us who we are

Stop, look back . . . and listen

The great outdoors, if one's lucky, a rock-solid companion

An iChat with my grandson

Lightening bugs and other things make us glow

Each and every Fourth of July a cause for celebration



© 2012, SCRIPPS HOWARD NEWS SERVICE

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