eikev
parasha Eikev, deuteronomy chapters 7—11
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and thoughts…
Eikev
because
In the late 60s (and they say if you remember the 60s you weren’t there, but I was there and I sort of remember), the idea of health as a holistic balance of body, mind, and spirit seemed brand new. It was enthusiastically pounced upon by the new age, hippy dippy, philosophically-minded health food crowd. In the 21st century, that concept has since gone so completely mainstream that my mentioning the phrase—body, mind, and spirit—is likely to evoke a few yawns.
But this notion is much older than the dawning of the age of Aquarius, even older than the age of Aquinas, who, in the 13th century, drew his conclusions on the matter by weaving together the somewhat disparate thoughts of Plato and Aristotle, c. 400 BCE.
The philosophies of those old guys have their roots in earliest prehistoric human musings on the curious difference between things that are living and those that are not-living. I’d venture to say that our penchant for contemplating what it means to be human, is part of what makes us human.
Mind and spirit (or soul) are ethereal.
Let’s break it down. The mind, the seat of our intelligence, is determined by one’s DNA code and modified by the soil in which we’re planted.
The spirit or soul, which also encompasses heart, is not dependent upon genetics. It’s a bit harder to put a finger on. Spirit is the seat of emotion and intuition and is also, according to Jewish teaching and the belief of many, the part of ourselves that’s eternal.
But even though DNA and the brain in our skulls are physical and tangible, the concept of mind, of free thought, remains, like spirit, ethereal.
The body is physical.
We don’t need philosophers to debate the nature of the body. We can’t question its existence without questioning all of existence. We can touch it, see it, feel it, hear it, and sometimes even smell it. The body is undoubtedly real.
So, where are we going with all of this?
In Parasha Eikev, God, through Moshe, gives us the words that have become a central part of our daily liturgy, spoken directly after reciting the “She’ma”:
…And it will be, if you hearken to My commandments that I command you this day, to love Adonai, your God, and to serve Adonai with all your heart and with all your soul…And you shall set these words of Mine upon your heart and upon your soul, and bind them for a sign upon your hand and they shall be for ornaments between your eyes. And you shall teach them to your children to speak with them, when you sit in your house and when you walk on the way and when you lie down and when you rise. And you shall inscribe them upon the doorposts of your house and upon your gates…
God’s Words are to be experienced intellectually—being commanded to teach them, not once, but as an ongoing lesson, to our children.
And, they’re to be experienced through the spirit—the soul—the heart—being commanded to Love God with all of our heart and all of our soul.
(See more about what it means to be commanded to love, in my thoughts on last week’s post, Parasha Vaetchanan.)
But, it's not enough to study God’s Words with our intellects, or to set them upon our hearts and souls. It’s not enough for these words to be ethereal, philosophical. They must be real, physical.
And so, we post a mezuzah on our doorposts. We lay (wrap) tefillin, one of the most mystical rituals of Judaism, before we daven the morning prayers, in order to bind them for a sign upon our hand and for ornaments between our eyes.
Tefillin are two black boxes that, in simplest terms, contain parchments upon which are inscribed specific Torah verses. The leather straps that hold them are mindfully wrapped, one around the left arm, along the heart meridian, and the other around the head.
Body, mind, and spirit.
As physical beings, it’s our purpose to act upon the physical world. Thoughts and feelings are but the inspiration, the vehicles through which we can affect change. Nothing is created by just thinking about it, or by just talking about it.
And love—both love of God and love of another human being—without action, is only a four letter word.
This week I’m going to serve what is to me, Shabbat comfort food. I guess that makes it a continuation of last week’s theme. That’s not so much about the parasha as it is about my life. It’s the physical manifestation of the cosmic hug that I need right now.
I’ve previously given you a recipe for chicken in the pot—it’s a great communal dish— but for this week I’m going to make individual portions, pre-plated in the kitchen. It’s a more elegant, more formal way to serve it, and it’s also convenient for making take-away packages. Each crock or bowl will have matzo balls seasoned with dill and saffron and filled with a surprise stuffing, plus chestnut and shiitake kreplach, an array of tender vegetables, and half a Cornish hen.
Even though the name of the dish implies that it’s all about the chicken, it’s not difficult to turn this into a satisfying vegetarian dish. Simply replace the chicken soup with my chicken-less soup. Add some barley or farro and some tofu—I like to use squares of tender, custard like, melt-in-your-mouth silken tofu. The dish will have plenty of protein and be totally satisfying.
A dish such as this really doesn’t require any sides, but for the sake of a festive Friday night meal, I’m going to serve a few salads as a starter with the challah. At the same time as the salads, I’ll also serve gefilte fish, for those who eat fish.
About this gefilte fish…Last week I had a lot going on, and I served my cheater’s gefilte fish, starting with Yehuda’s original, fish in a jar. It’s the only brand of jarred fish that I like. Gefilte fish, whether home made or jarred, only lasts a couple of days in the fridge. It became clear that the leftovers weren’t going to be used in a timely fashion, and because I hate waste, I popped them (in the jar) into the freezer. Yes, you can freeze gefilte fish. It’s almost as good. Almost. There is a slight change in texture. But having gefilte fish in the freezer gives me the opportunity to make something a little bit wacky, but more than a little bit delicious—Deep Fried Gefilte Fish…I simply dip the fish pieces into an egg wash, let the excess run off, and then roll them in seasoned breadcrumbs. Three minutes in the deep fryer, and you have a hot, crunchy on the outside-tender on the inside appetizer. And yes, horseradish is still de rigueur.
The salads will be an earthy rainbow beet salad, a refreshing Norwegian cucumber salad, and Simanim salad. Simanim salad is perfect for this parasha. It contains the seven species that the land of Israel is known for (Devarim, chapter 7 verse 8)—the crops with which we’ll be blessed if we live by the words of God.
Dessert will be a Persian Love Cake.
Why?
Let’s go back to the meaning of “Eikev.”
Because.
So what shall we eat?
Dinner is most decidedly physical. And although food can stimulate philosophical conversation—that’s kind of the point of my parasha-based menus—it’s difficult to create a menu that allows us to actually eat thoughts and feelings.
So we’ll start with a physical manifestation. The biggest connection the menu will have to the parasha will be in the challah. Rather than just making my usual braided loaf, I’m going to make a fancy mezuzah case from the dough. No, there will be no parchment and ink inside, but I will infuse it with love as I knead it. If you look at the photo (there’s a bigger picture below), I bet you can easily replicate it. FYI, the stars were done with a cookie cutter.
