Guava Filled Challah

So we drove to Midtown and fetched D1 and Joey, and drove to Shorecrest to see their brand new house. I loved it -- every window has a view of ancient oak trees, and the layout of the place is terrific -- a gorgeous pool deck which you can see well from the second story master balcony. I joked that it's surely no "starter house," and D1 is a bit overwhelmed. But they'll settle in just wonderfully -- the mover's are coming to my house Wednesday, and I get my garage back from it's current state as a packed storage unit.

From there we drove the three minutes to Joey's parents -- they were hosting RH dinner. Jackie invited some cousins, and the house was filled with laughter and good will. Ricardo joked that we'd say the pre meal prayers in Hebrew, English, and "Mexican" -- a loving poke at the cousins who had moved from Bogota to Mexico City,and had their accents changed.

It being RH, the tradition is to eat sweet things, heralding a sweet year. They had the traditional apples dipped in honey, but they had something else -- something so awesome, I was, well, awed. Challah filled with guava. It was delicious.

The last time a food got to me like this, it was at Sammy's in the Lower East Side, where they served deep fried kreplach. That's Ashkenazi, of course, and the guava challah is Sephardic. The Sephardic food is better, I have to admit, and according to D1, healthier, too -- much more Middle Eastern than Eastern European.

We joked about the differences. Joey took a DNA test and is 15% Ashkenazi. Cousin Ernesto was dismayed -- apparently the Sephardim lampoon us as "gefilte fish eaters." They have a point -- gefilte fish might be one of the worst foods ever invented -- edible to me only when smothered in horseradish. 

The cousins told tales of childhoods in Bogota -- featuring "Ibrahim," the Palestinian spice merchant who visited, comically. I loved watching Ricardo -- laughing to the point of tears. Apparently one of the cousins' fathers was once outraged when a Shabbat meal included quesadillas -- "The house doesn't smell like shabbat!"  Everyone laughed at that memory.

As we left, we hugged Jackie and Ricardo tightly. I told them that I always considered myself a lucky man, but that level of blessedness soared when D1 married into their family. They said they felt the same way.

So we got to ring in 5779 in the right style -- surrounded by love, and warmth, and sweetness. And I have to find out where one buys this guava filled challah...