A host of customs and "rituals" are part and parcel of the Israeli Sabbath
independent of religious observance.
by Daniella Ashkenazy
The weekend in Israel has a special
flavor - literally and figuratively - typified by one favorite dish called
cholent or Sabbath stew. Jewish law stipulates that no work be done on the
Sabbath. Thus Jewish cooks throughout the ages developed a special
slow-cooking, one-pot-meal - a crock of meat, beans or lentils, carrots
and potatoes placed in a slow oven on Friday and only served at the midday
meal on Saturday. A true wife-saver, it is immensely popular particularly
during the winter months, not only among religious families, but also
among millions of less observant Jews.
For centuries, housewives baked their cholent in a pile of coals. In some
Eastern-European towns, the local baker provided this service and families
"picked up" their cholent on the way home from synagogue - perhaps the
world's first "carry-out" meal. Today's Sabbath stew is prepared in a slow
oven or on a special Sabbath hot plate - an electric metal slab that
safely cooks at a low-temperature for hours and hours.
Israeli-manufactured ovens even come with a special setting marked
"Sabbath," which is just right for making Sabbath cholent.
Another sign that its Friday is the vast number of Israeli soldiers
heading home. The reason: in order to make army life suitable for all
citizens - religious and non-religious - all work not essential for
security is suspended during the Sabbath. Thus, unlike other armies where
those in uniform can be away for months at a time, Friday signals a
wholesale "weekend exodus" from the base of thousands of soldiers.
Conversely, just as young soldiers are going off-duty, Israeli moms are
going "on-duty." The IDF will be fed at home over the weekend; and the
laundry brigade will spring into action as the kids lug home monstrous
dufflebags filled with one or two weeks' dirty laundry. On a wet, rainy
weekend - among those without clothes dryers - this winter exercise can
culminate in ironing dry a mountain of damp wash.
But if Israeli mothers are cooking for an army, it's not just for their
children in uniform. Families generally remain close-knit even after
offspring have left home and thus Friday night or Saturday noon are often
hallmarked by the "gathering of the tribe" with grown children heading for
home - at most a few hours away. Such visits are invariably crowned by
more than a taste of "mamma's home cooking." More often than not, the kids
go back to their dorms or rented apartments loaded with half the larder -
tied to mom's apron strings by a week's supply of homemade soup or
schnitzel.
The other indicator of just how popular cholent is: every Friday afternoon
- rain or shine - demand for electricity predictably jumps by 20% from
tens of thousands of Jewish cooks putting up their Sabbath cholent and
preparing pre-Sabbath meals!
The approaching weekend signals a change of pace in Israel, however rather
than slowing down, the tempo on the streets is accelerated - perhaps
because Friday is a short workday - shops close early in the afternoon and
are not open on the Sabbath. Yet, an army of children on the move and
shopping for food are only half the story of frenzied Friday consumerism.
The weekend shopping basket would not be complete without two other items:
flowers and food for thought.
Israelis carry home bouquets of flowers for the Sabbath as if every
weekend was Mother's Day. Flowers are on sale everywhere. Florists,
grocery stores and street vendors, who set up shop practically anywhere -
on street comers, at main intersections and bus stops along major traffic
arteries - all do their best trade just before the weeks' end.
No weekend would be complete without a pile of newspapers on the living
room coffee table. Not only do most Israelis buy a local weekly with juicy
political gossip and profiles of local luminaries but the majority of
households tote home at least two weekend papers - a habit that allows a
country of six million to support five daily newspapers and dozens of
weeklies and magazines. Religious reading of the papers reflects the role
of the print media in the lives of the majority of Israelis who do not
attend synagogue, for whom the newspapers serve as an "alternative
pulpit," filled not only with entertaining features, but also brimming
with caustic sermonizing and endless airing of ethical, ideological and
existential issues.
Going to the movies, a cafe or party are popular weekend pastimes but
another custom is more unique. Groups of the same half-dozen Israeli
couples gather every Friday night at someone else's house; some groups are
army buddies with their spouses while other friendships date back to
pre-school days. A sociological survey of favorite leisure time activities
found these household get-togethers, devoted to nibbling food and at least
one good political argument, to be one of the most popular evenings out
... or should one say middle-of-the-night out. Most Friday night
gatherings begin at 10 or 11 PM, leaving enough early evening quality time
for family visits and the popular weekly news roundup. The roots of this
phenomenon date back to the 1960s when movie theatres, cafes and even TV
were still shut down on Friday nights leaving couples to their own
devices. In posh northern suburbs some groups have maintained but modified
this custom by inviting paid lecturers or instrumentalists once a month to
liven up the couples' evenings.
Which brings up another Sabbath tradition - no one gets left out of
weekend customs and rituals. Grown children unlucky enough to be left on
an army base for the weekend are treated to weekly packages from home
filled with goodies, local papers, you-name-it. The post office even has a
special flat, cut-rate to send packages to soldiers - no matter what the
size or weight - while the army radio station devotes its entire Friday
morning broadcast to "Mother's Voice" - a program during which mothers
(and fathers) dedicate songs, with regards from home, to their
offspring.