Since I moved to Israel, there have been many adjustments. But not having a real Sunday may be the biggest adjustment of all. I loved Sunday in America. It was my day to get ready for the week; the shopping, the laundry, and a head start on the cooking.
We used to live in Vallejo, CA. where there wasn’t a kosher restaurant for over 30 miles. So if we wanted to eat, we cooked. And we loved to eat, so we cooked a lot.
Today I had the luxury of a real Sunday here in Jerusalem. I had no work commitments. The house was already clean and, to be honest, I felt like being lazy. The baby had already awakened me at 7, 8, and 9. My mom had mercy on me and took him, so I could get some sleep. When I finally made my way out of bed at 10:00 a.m., I decided today was a day to cook.
I’ve been craving Shanghai Chow Mein (page 45) for a few days now. Between the free time and the fact that I had spaghetti noodles sitting in my fridge from last night’s Italian Malava Malka, it was clear what I’d be making for lunch.
When I took my first bite a wave of nostalgia rushed over me. I saw myself as a little girl with my mom at this wonderful, little, hole-in-the wall, Chinese Noodle House in the Sunset district of San Francisco.
We used to go there because they had the best Chinese chicken noodle soup in the universe. When we were in the mood for an extra treat, we’d order the Shanghai Chow Mein. Stir-fried vegetables in a brown sauce poured over a pillow of fried noodles softened the noodles as they absorbed the rich sauce. It was heaven then, and it was even more magical today sitting at our table in Jerusalem. Today was a real Sunday, and I am so grateful.