Member-only story
Used Book Shops: We Belong
Two things slowed us down during our first eager romantic months: dinner obligations with other synagogue members, and becoming part of Vermont’s bookstore network.
Who’s in the Kitchen?
For Dave, who did not cook for others, an invitation to dinner at someone else’s house in his bachelor years — that is, until the two of us connected at age 50 — meant a shower, clean clothes, and a box of candy from his stash of Jewish treats: chocolate-covered raspberry gel rings, or those colorful “fruit-slice” gumdrops, or one of the traditional chocolate companies. During the big holiday seasons, he might tote a bottle of fizzy grape juice or cider, kosher of course, or bring extra matzoh, or premade whitefish salad for very special occasions.
Gender, however, changed everything. If I asked, or Dave asked for us, what we could contribute to a meal, at first Dave offered a loaf of my challah bread. Soon he graduated to volunteering me for a kugel (a tasty carbs and eggs dish, with various cottage cheese and/or fruit additions) or a few dozen rugelach (rolled sweet cookies), or an apple cake. As his friends became confident that I could bake well enough, most said “sure!”
To Dave, then, the invitation seemed much as usual in terms of what he needed to do — in fact, simpler! He would say to me, “You can relax, we are…
