С Днем Рождения and Daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā to moi.

I know I need to write about Tallinn and I promise I will but first I have to recap this past weekend because I’m still on a birthday/Riga is magical/I’m the luckiest girl in the land high. It all started Friday eve, when my lovely friend Zanete and I went to see one of the best movies I’ve seen in a while in the most beautiful movie theater I’ve ever seen. This movie theater nearly puts the Barcelona Opera House to shame. Exhibit A:

And, while you're basking in the glory of the theater and the artsy fartsy movies you can enjoy whatever food you desire because you get to bring in your own snacks (which my family does anyway, but it's kind of nice to carry a milkshake in proudly instead of shoving it in your purse. Go Rebecca). Oh, and the movies are cheap. Even I might start going to the movies.

So I saw "The Broken Circle Breakdown," which was incredibly lovely even though it was in Belgian with Latvian subtitles. 

I was lucky to have Zanete who could whisper the scripts' sweet nothings in my ear but I'm pretty sure I would have cried even if I hadn't understood the dialogue. For the record, I don't cry during movies, so this one must be special. It’s about a Belgian couple that sings Bluegrass music and, spoiler alert, their daughter has cancer. Talk about a whirlwind of beautiful music, incredible camera work, and, oh wait, actually talented acting?! It was the perfect evening of milkshakes, movies, salad, wine, and unbelievable company that got me ready to get older.

I woke up the next morning and spent the day doing all of my favorite things and only my favorite things: exercising, cooking, eating, going to the market, and spending time with genuinely wonderful people. I awoke for the first of many “long runs” in my training for the Riga marathon (stay tuned to see how that works out…) and found out what it feels like to run in 9 degrees Fahrenheit/-10 degrees Celsius. Besides the involuntary eye tearing and nose running, not too bad. After my run I started the real marathon of the day: cooking. I was honored to be invited as a guest chef after sharing a glass of rhubarb wine with a nice bartender, who conveniently turned out to be the owner of what turned into my favorite cafe. It pays to be overly friendly and outgoing and a tad too talkative. Kafe Trusis (which means Bunny café, a nice shout out to Granny Bunny) is a new, blossoming café one block from my apartment. Besides being convenient, it has good food (finally!) local products (including rhubarb, plum, apple, and dandelion wine because Latvia is too cold for grapes), and the nicest staff I’ve ever met. At this point, I go there so often I try desperately to work there for free and most of my friends are sick of me suggesting we meet there. What can I say, I try to support people I like. Anyhoo, so the aforementioned owner and I decided I should cook all Jewish foods to introduce the local community to something new. I decided that would be the best way to celebrate my birthday, especially since the Latvian and Russian style of birthday celebrations is nice but not something I was quite ready to buy into (literally, it’s expensive, man!). They celebrate by preparing and providing an elaborate table of food for friends, family and coworkers. So people come, eat, chat, and that's about it. Apparently, like everything else, the tradition comes from Soviet times, when it was so rare to have nice, fancy food that people went all out for their birthdays and shared/showed off for their friends for their birthdays. Since I'm one of those people that likes celebrating others' birthdays more than my own, I was not interested in throwing myself that kind of a party and I was really really not interested in giving myself a cake. Calories don’t count on your birthday when they come from other people, but buying yourself a cake just breaks all the rules! So, instead, I decided to kind of sort of blend the traditions by cooking a lot of food but, since I was doing so in a cafe, I could tell people to come celebrate the food instead of me. Plus it costs the same to buy this meal as it does to buy a present or bring food to a party. Plus I wanted to help the cafe. It made sense to me.

                  So after my run, I ran over to the café to start a kind of overly ambitious menu of some essential and actually tasty Jewish delicacies. I picked some of my specialties and something things I’ve dreamed about attempting but have not yet had the ingredients, equipment, or courage. Until my 23^rd birthday in a café restaurant, that is. I wrote the menu back when I thought the cook was going to help, but, when that didn't quite pan out, I called in some reserves and powered through. Here is the rundown:

Vegetable stock from scratch (a dream of mine) for matzo ball soup (which, apparently, ground up matzo= matzo meal)

5 challahs (I tripled the recipe. Talk about a lot of kneading. By hand.)

4 babka (doubled recipe. yes I did more kneading. Whoops.)

40 hamantaschen

1 Pineapple challah kugel

Homemade hummus

Shakshuka to order

Israeli salad

Thank goodness my incredibly kind friends Lauren, Nat, and Ulla were around to shape the hamantaschen and that Lauren and the owners could help with the hummus and salad or a few things never would have made it out. BUT, about 10 hours and an unbelievably dirty kitchen later, it not only got done but it might have gotten done well. There was definitely a little dancing when I first discovered that I made babka! Just NEVER ask what's in it. I even had an hour or so to go dance and celebrate outside with the rest of Riga, as the city opened its Cultural Capital celebrations with a "taste" of Riga 2014 in the market. The event included very little actual tasting and it was a little smaller and more underwhelming than I had expected, but I'm glad I saw it. One pavilion had amber exhibits (because that’s a thing here), which mostly consisted of posing behind a big amber mabob and some video with nature. There was also supposed to be a cooking demonstration but all the food was gone. And the line was long. And it was crowded. One pavilion had a famous local DJ with some visual art exhibits. Another pavilion had a video of the 1989 Baltic Way, a peaceful demonstration of  two million people making a chain 600 km long across the three Baltic countries. And finally, the meat pavilion had a microphone for the meat packers to tell their stories on. So that was cute. The best part of the events was the book pass. 

In another human chain, that was a tad smaller than the one in 1989, volunteers physically passed books from the old national library to the new one. Not only was the pass incredibly well organized, with time and placement assignments fairly well coordinated, but it was fun and festive too! There was music and dancing and an incredible amount of happiness for people standing in the coldest day Riga has had so far. 

            Anyhoo, so after this short interlude of sunlight and celebration I returned to the kitchen to cook until my back ached and it was time for a birthday cocktail. A few of my friends even showed up to try my food! And I tried a tad too much babka. When my belly was stuffed and I could barely stand anymore, I sat down with the wonderful workers who were left to enjoy their fine company and the best cocktails I've had in a while.

 The day was certainly an unconventional celebration but a nice reminder that I am older and maybe almost wiser. I usually get overwhelmed in the kitchen and have trouble managing multiple things at once while giving instructions but, somehow, there were no freak outs and no screaming. I might have made an epic mess that looked like I ooze flour and dough, but I stayed almost entirely calm and, most importantly, I knew when to ask for help. I'm learning. 

            After that whirlwind of a day I also got to celebrate like a normal person when, the next day, the teens ushered me into a room, covered my eyes, and spoke over and around me in Russian while I waited, thinking they were about to douse me in a bucket of water or something. Luckily, they brought out a cake and candles instead. And it was even nut free! So we ate and I was reminded of how incredibly lucky I am for the friends I've made, the company I've found, and the fact that I myself am no longer a teenager.

 So thank you all for a great birthday weekend.

Barcelona: where the weird and the beautiful are one and the same

Of course I have one more travel tale to share, but I was so distraught about leaving this one that I left my camera behind. Whoops. At least I left it with someone who can return it. In a month. So this will be very text heavy (except for the pictures I found of food online). And a good exercise for the imagination. So sorry and you’re welcome.

            Once upon a time I made a great decision to start dating a wonderful boy with an unimaginably kind family. Being the splendiferous people they are, they let me join (crash) their family vacay to Barcelona. Besides being incredibly generous and fun, they also like food and wine and massages more than I do. Basically, they’re my ideal travel buddies, besides my own family of course.

            So, the day after the shortest day of the year (I almost threw myself a party to celebrate December 21^st as the slow progression out of darkness), and 6 months after leaving him, I finally met my boyfriend, Harrison, in a beautiful city where it is still light out after 5 PM and you can stand comfortably outside in just a sweatshirt! Crazy! And to make matters even more amazing and worth celebrating Harrison finally graduated college! He deserves a big woohoo for that one.

            We started the trip with a great meal where I also remet quinoa for the first time in months. I don’t remember much else because there was quinoa. The next day, we started bright and early, before Catalonians had even entered their REM cycle, at about 9 AM. We began with a tour of Barcelona’s must see spot: La Sagrada Familia. After nearly 200 years of active construction the church is not yet finished and definitely will not be before the projected end date of 2045, but the Barcelonians are still trekking and it is still magnificent. Honestly, the idea of adding more is mind-blowing considering it’s impossible to take in everything that is already there, but they want to see Gaudi’s vision through to the end and dagnabit they will. For those of you who don’t know, Gaudi is the most famous architect in Barcelona and kind of a genius. He designed La Sagrada Familia, amongst other things, and was hit by a car part way through the construction of the church and not identified as the famed architect until a week after his death because he looked like a homeless man. Anyhoo, the amount of detail and architectural ingenuity required for this landmark cannot and should not be rushed so the excessively long timeline makes sense once you’re standing next to the building. I don’t know what was more incredible, the ornate outside, the way the stained glass and mosaics interacted to create natural lighting, the height of the ceiling, the progression and use of shapes, or all the other things you can read about in guide books. My words can’t capture this building and neither would pictures. Just go and see it. I’ll meet you there in 2045, or whenever they actually finish.

            We also saw some of Gaudi’s other buildings and architectural visions over the day and trip, including his park, a private house that was just recently opened to the public (imagine lettings strangers wander into your house. I guess when you need money, you need money), and 2 famed apartment buildings. Gaudi perfectly blended nature and architecture, relying heavily on natural light and pulling and reflecting nature in his use of shapes, space, and color. He also designed every detail of his buildings, including the beautifully functional door knobs and chairs that were molded to fit the natural curves of hands and tushies. The craziest thing was that there was so much detail and ornament and yet every building and structure looked different. I think that man had the creativity of about an entire nation rolled into one. At least the creativity lives on. Maybe that’s why they’re taking so long to build La Sagrada Familia…

            We also made it to the Picasso museum for more art and culture. I must say, I’ve seen a lot of Picasso in class and in real life and kind of expected the same old shtick, but, once again, Barcelona knows how to display it’s art. The exhibit featured more of his realism than his cubism or blue periods, and, it turns out, those are my new favorite Picassos. There were also wonderful photographs of Picasso dancing with his female special friend, and boy that man had turn-out! Not to mention, he was the endearingly plump and gray joyful old man I love, quickly joining the ranks of old man crushes (which mostly consists of David Ben Gurion.) (I think sometimes I forget this is a blog and not a diary. So enjoy getting to know way too many embarrassing things about me. And I hope you use the information wisely).

            Other sights included the Black Madonna, which was smaller than expected and hard to see over Christmas Mass but led to a fun excursion to another town and a nice view of the mountains. We also obviously saw a show in the Opera to satisfy Granny’s wish list (pictures still to come! I promise!) and we hit up the touristy food market, which was conveniently located near our hotel and right off La Rambla. The market was nice and shiny but no Copenhagen. And La Rambla and the surrounding area was way too much for me. I got so swallowed by the crowds and hustling shop owners that I temporarily forgot how pretty the city really was. Luckily, I found a Starbucks and all was well (it’s been 6 months, let me have this one).

            Harrison and I walked, jog, and bike rode around to see more of the town, leading us through various cute neighborhoods and to a GORGEOUS park that was so pretty I insisted on running back there a few days later and ended up running there by accident on a few separate occasions. I love a city that leads you back to pretty things no matter where you try to go.

            Okay, so now that I described the touristy things that you can read about in books, it’s time to get to the important things and one of my favorite parts of travelling with the Rea’s (besides their company): food and wine. They not only share my love of great eats, but they also eat all the meat dishes I wonder about while introducing me to the best wines. It’s the dream. We had some good meals and some… interesting ones, and I found out that even Michelin Star Restaurants have their slip ups. For example, Amy kindly called ABAC, one of the Michelin Star Restaurants, to request vegetarian food in case there was a fixed menu. I had heard Barcelona isn’t overly accommodating to vegetarians but had been just fine until the waiter showed up and one of the first things out of his mouth was, “So I hear one of you can’t eat anything? No meat? No shellfish? Can you eat fish?” When I glanced down at the menu I discovered that not only was there only one dish (which is totally acceptable) but it had one of two nuts I’m allergic too… So then I had to ask for it without nuts to which the waiter replied, “you’re allergic to nuts too?!” Luckily he was more accommodating than I expected, given our previous interactions, and I tasted the liquid gnocchi with mushrooms and truffles, which was more strange than good. It popped in your mouth to reveal a liquid that was reminiscent of liquid cheese. It was okay but a few pops was enough. 

 I also had two of the absolute worst desserts that have ever graced my tastebuds. One was cotton candy with yogurt, crunchy biscuit, flower nectar, and violet ice cream and the other was yuzu sorbet with basil and citrus.

Imagine the sweetest thing you’ve ever eaten dosed in sugar. And then you’ll almost be able to imagine how sweet these desserts were. Luckily you never base a restaurant review on the vegetarian because the meat eaters had one of the best egg dishes ever and there were other key highlights that I can’t adequately describe because I didn’t taste them. There was a fun thing where they poured liquid nitrogen on a cart to make sorbet. I don’t remember how good the sorbet was but at least it was pretty. And I also had the best bottle of white wine I’ve ever encountered. Of course, it was Italian, produced by Gaja. It was so good I actually got scared I would never be able to consume another kind of wine again. Luckily, that fear didn’t last long but all other wine tasted like tar for the rest of the night.

            The best meal by far came from Commerc 24, which we happened on thanks to Fodor’s Top Picks. In case you were wondering, Fodor’s Top Picks are always right. We showed up at the restaurant at 12 and they told us they were not open until 1:30, but we all had a feeling it was worth waiting for (by the way, Barcelonians eat absurdly late. Restaurants are still empty at 8:30 at night and I’m pretty sure we beat every early bird special by about 2 hours). We came back to find a chic little colorful gem where you tell them what you want, how many people want to eat it, and then they figure out portion size from there. So you get to share but don’t ever have to fight over food and aren’t too likely to over order. The gaudi’s of food. They created the most unique, wonderful combinations with fish that I never would have thought of and now can’t imagine living without. They surprised us with itty bitty pizzas that had anchovies, arugula, and strawberries. The raw tuna was delectable. 

And there was one dish where they came out and said, sorry but we’re running low on black truffles and we apologize but have to use white truffles. Rough times, I know. But the winner were the sardines with wasabi and oranges. 

And the kinder eggs, which were whipped eggs served under whipped egg whites with truffle, all served in a perfect egg shell. 

And the cheese cart. Oh the cheese cart. The kind of thing my sisters have dreamed about in a way that made me consider grabbing hold of the handles and running straight out the door with it. If it fit in my luggage I probably would have. So sorry sisters, but I ate it all in your honor.

            And on a final note, I recently decided it is time to try a few forms of meat that I have never tasted but think everyone should experience, and I began the adventure with kosher schnitzel in Barcelona. Honestly, it was just breaded and fried meat that tasted reminiscent of a veggie chickie nugget, but I tried it! Steak and lamb, here we come!

            So basically, thank you Rea’s for being wonderful.

The Goldsteins/Glazers are taking over...

So I’ve talked briefly about my Latvian cousin but don’t think I ever actually explained that whole situation… And it’s an odd and magical one:

            When my dad used to say that we are related to everyone I thought he was joking. Alas, he is a wise man. Sometimes it pays to have the most common last names ever. So, when my family tracking cousin emailed me to say we had family in Latvia, I rolled my eyes and said, “of course we do.” Then I got an email from my cousin in Latvia and the eye rolling ceased. Turns out I have a 19 year old cousin who studies law in Riga, lives with her mother in a teensy weensy town called Aizkraukle (which, like every other town, is 1 hour outside of Riga), and has a rocking grandpa in Daugavpils (which is more like 3 or 4 hours away). 

My grandma’s last name was Glazer so my cousin has the Russian version, Glezerova. When we first met we were not sure we were truly related but after recognizing our shared love of pickles, cheese, shakshuka, and being a vegetarian, we knew we were cousins. But also, we traced our roots to find out our great-great-great grandfathers were brothers, or something complicated like that. So, since my dad taught me that I can always love and trust my family, I hopped on a train with this girl named Dina who I’d met about twice before, and joined her and her mother as they visited their grandpa for a weekend in Daugavpils. Thank goodness you really can trust family.

            So, Daugavpils is the second largest city in Latvia, but it’s quite quiet and small compared to Riga. Nice, but quiet. It used to have a substantial Jewish population, and then the town faced the fate of the rest of the Baltics when the war came, and never quite rebuilt itself the way Riga did. There is still a nice synagogue, which Dina’s grandfather attends weekly, but most of the Jewish population is aging and seem to go to shul mostly for the food (which, don’t get me wrong, is definitely a core tenet of Judaism). The shul truly is an incredible meeting place for the elderly Jews of the town, providing a much needed outlet for company, conversation, and food that not all babushkas and dedushkas have.

Oh and these soviet style playgrounds:

            The rest of my trip mostly consisted of getting to know my family with the same activities my American family loves: endless eating, pictures, and story telling. Could they be any more related? Even before I arrived Dina’s mom asked me what she could feed me and as soon as we got off the train she took me to the grocery store to make sure I had enough food and the best cheese she could find. So, within moments of arriving in Dina’ grandfather’s soviet style apartment, I was eating the best vegetarian lasagna I’ve ever had, an array of homemade pickled vegetables and sauces, and some truly wonderful cheese that my sisters would have fawned over. And this was just the start.

As I filled my belly with the first home-cooked family meal I’d had in months, Dina’s grandfather, who, remarkably, knows fluent Russian and Hebrew so I could actually talk to him, told me about his family and showed me a family album.

I diagramed the family tree to make my daddy proud and also found out from Dina about his times in Stalin’s camp… Woo. Turns out he was accused of being a political enemy despite not having done anything, because that’s how the Soviet Union was. Besides being amazing for having made it through that, he also wakes up every morning at the age of 93 to do sit-ups and push ups and maintain his physique. I found my new marathon training buddy.

            The rest of the trip was spent watching Soviet era movies with Dina and her mom while Dina’s mom asked what else she could feed me and Dina’s grandpa cavorted around town with his 70-something girlfriend. It all ended like a dream, when, after having to wake up at 5 AM, Dina’s mom insisted on waking up with me to make me Shakshuka before my train ride. But actually. Family is awesome. And my family is better.

I actually live (and sometimes work) in Riga, I swear!

From the looks of my most recent posts it must seem like I spend more time in transit than in one place, and it definitely looks like the most productive thing I’ve done is eat my way through a bunch of different cities. It definitely doesn’t help that I’m writing this post from a bus on my way to Tallinn, but we’ll get there. I swear that in between the travel to cities and seminars (so many seminars!), I spend at least enough time in Riga to have learned how to say good-day, thank you, and cheers (what else do you really need?) and have explored enough to find a few more wonderful markets. And a bunny farm in the middle of town. 

So now I guess it’s time to talk about the “work” that brought me to the Washington Posts proclaimed “in” part of the world and Lonely Planet’s number 4 city to visit (which, obviously my granny gives me full credit for. Thanks granny).

            So before the New Year I spent 5 out of my 10 weekends on seminars in various parts of the country and baltics. So many seminars. Holy Moly. After the first one in Estonia, the seminars were largely about program planning for the Riga Jewish Community Center. For these seminars I had my chance to lead some sessions and sit in on hours and hours and hours of meetings in Russian. After all the Russian words floating around me I would say the most improvement my language skills saw was in the way of new curse words, thank you large groups of Russian teenagers. I did finally make it to Sigulda, a town that is about an hour outside of Riga and has incredible nature with bike paths, ski tracks, bob sledding, and all the other outdoorsy things I love. I didn’t get to take advantage of any of these things yet, seeing as I was on a seminar and it was the first (and only time) we actually had snow. But I shall be back.  Oh, and on one of these seminars the youth movement started. So that’s pretty awesome.

            The youth movement. The real reason I’m here. So the madrichim used to plan all the programs and such for the teens, but no more! The teens are taking over. Scary image, I know, but possibly exciting? In order to formally change over the system we did what the Riga community does best, held a seminar in a hotel an hour outside of town. There, the teens elected a board, wrote a constitution, established their shared values, and, as is typical of youth movements, had some strange ceremony involving fire.

            Since then, the teens have had some more programs, weekly meetings (which are more like weekly gatherings of cookie eating but we’re working on that), and the BBYO international presidents visited for ice skating and advice. There is still a long way to go in terms of organization and management, but at least there’s passion and vision. And a whole lot of silliness.

            I’ve also gotten more involved in the Kindergarten, where I started teaching English and challah making and leading Shabbat prayers. These few hours a week are still the highlight of my time here because what could be better than smiling children and homemade challah? I can honestly tell you, not a heck of a lot.

            Oh yeah, and I started teaching Hebrew. And I taught more cooking classes. And I’m finally going to meet the Jewish Community of Tallinn, even though most of the teens are in Israel (hence the bus ride. It’s a little work related at least!) To be honest, even after writing this post I’m still not really sure what I do here or what will come of the next few months but I’m pretty darn sure that it’s been an adventure.