We started our blog, “Shmoozing With the Word Mavens” in April 2010. Unlike many other bloggers who start with enthusiasm, but then fall by the wayside (admit it, how many times have you clicked on a link to a recipe/travel/cultural musing blog and seen that their last post was April, 2008?) we’ve kept up faithfully writing, editing and posting.  We’ve made an effort to keep the enthusiasm, the writing and the jokes going –and we’re proud to say that this post will be number 61.

We still have fun writing together and we haven’t run out of things to say  – so look-out, number 62 will be up soon!

Our blog hosting site WordPress,  keeps all kinds of statistics about our blog.  According to WordPress, we’ve had 127 comments posted on things we’ve written – and not all of them were from friends and family! We hear from readers who are also bloggers and that leads us to read their blogs and then they comment back and before you know it we’re making fun connections all over cyberspace.

We’ve had 10,400 all time views –more than 10,000 people have clicked on our pages! Our most read day was March 10, 2011. Views of our blog usually go up when we have a piece in the Inky and on March 10,   86 people read our blog!

As of last week, blog views are trending up – 67.28% over the week before. That’s almost  as many views as the live “geyser cam” of Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park.

Every time we speak at a synagogue, we ask our audience members for their email, so we can sign them up to receive our blog updates. Then they say to us, “What do we know from computers. We only do the Facebook to talk to our grandkids, girls.”

The Word Mavens tweet too. We have 73 followers on Twitter, including “Jewish bloggers” (who call their tweets, messages from the  “chosen bloggers”) InterfaithFamily ( a great resource and fave site of ours) and the Shiksa in the Kitchen, a fellow blogger who writes about Jewish cooking. She came upon our blog because we frequently write and schmooze about our favorite Jewish foods. She also does cooking demos at Zabar’s – one of our favorite establishments in the world, so our paths could easily intersect at 80th and Broadway, in the real world, as well as in cyberspace.

Borders has gone out of business and we’re sad there’s no place to buy a book in our neighborhood. We used to really enjoy going into Borders, heading for the Judaica section, hunting down our Dictionary of Jewish Words and then pulling it off the lower shelf — and placing it face out on a higher shelf, eye level with the potential customers.

Since it came out, our Dictionary has been on Amazon.com  You can now download the  Kindle edition or buy the app for your iphone so you’re never without a Yiddish insult when you need one.

In the past year, we’ve continued to present our “engaging, enlightening and entertaining” book talk to audiences at local synagogues. We meet lots of nice people who share funny stories of their family’s Jewish traditions, favorite foods and Yiddishisms gone wrong.

Most recently, Joyce attended a ceremony in which former Roman Catholic priest who had left the church to get married was “incardinated” as a priest into the more modern and inclusive Old Catholic Church of America. The ceremony was conducted by The Most Reverend Julius L. Licata, an Archbishop who was decked out in turquoise robes with magenta lining and wearing a gold and purple mitre. His sermon was running long. He looked at the crowd and said, “I always talk too much. I’m a yenta.” Joyce couldn’t believe her ears. She ran home and googled the guy to find out how he knew from “yentas.” Turns out he grew up in Brooklyn and must  have played stickballwith some Jewish boys.

the yenta bishop

A mother told us that her elementary-school age daughter, who shleps a big backpack to school, lets out an oy when she lifts it out of the car each morning. One day, the child asked her mom, “What do people who aren’t Jewish do when they need an oy?”

Good question, because The Word Mavens always say that sometimes a good oy just makes you feel better.

A public school teacher shared a story with us about an African-American student named Zipporah who always wore a large, gold Jewish star necklace. When the teacher inquired about the star, Zipporah explained that her family was Jewish and that she was one of eight children — all with biblical names. The oldest was Elijah, one sister was Zemira, and the eighth child, the youngest was named Dayenu. In Hebrew, dayenu means “enough.”  That is a true story – and the child wasn’t joking.

And now it’s time for us to say “dayenu.”  Enough writing. Enough reading. Go have a glass of champagne and welcome in the New Year. We wish you a wonderful 2012, filled with much mazel, nachas and all good things.

And keep reading (and commenting!)

Starting with the 1894 Sears catalog, the self-proclaimed “Book of Bargains,” seasonal gift catalogs were designed to tempt consumers with page after page of items they never even knew they needed.

Who Would Want This Stuff, Anyway?

Were you hoping to find a 3-foot-tall plush moose footrest, complete with antlers, under your tree? The Grandin Road catalog claims that the footrest is “crafted for years of comfortable lounging or display.” What a bargain at only $179! You could display it alongside the 3-foot-tall plastic Santa boots with gold buckles that they also sell. With all these useless objects littering Grandin Road, we’re not sure we have the courage to walk there.

this won't take up too much room in the den

What about the handcrafted “obol” from Brookstone – a cereal bowl that has two sections, one for milk and one for cold cereal? This ridiculously impractical solution for children (and adults) who don’t like one food touching another will set you back $19.99. Why not order a set of 12 for your obsessive-compulsive breakfast guests?

Does personalizing a stupid gift make it better? For your family movie night, the Personal Creations catalog offers a set of five metal “Popcorn Buckets” that can be personalized with the names of every member of the family. “No more fighting over sharing popcorn,” the catalog promises. This gift creates problems for us. It’s too big to cram into an already overloaded cabinet. It has limited usefulness: How often do we all agree on a movie and then actually sit down to watch it together? We can’t regift the buckets because they have our names on them. And it would make us sad to just stuff our husbands’ names in the trash.

Who Put Us On These Lists, Anyway?

We’ve ordered coffee and music and shoes online. Like the rest of the free world, we’ve one-clicked for books on Amazon. We’ve sent a fruit basket or two through the years. Now it seems that Harry and David have given everyone our addresses and spread the word that we’re ready to shop. Maybe that’s how we got on the mailing lists of stores we’ve never visited – like Zingerman’s gourmet foods in Ann Arbor, Michigan, or the Disney Collectibles Store in Orlando, Florida.

We received the catalog from the Container Store because we have bought plastic bins and desk organizers for our kids’ college dorm rooms. But we have little interest in their 45-page catalog filled with snowy reindeer gift tags, gift wrap with red and black Scottish terriers, and two pages of glass, cellophane and candy cane-printed Chinese takeout containers for the Christmas cookie exchange. If we are ever invited to a Christmas cookie exchange, we’ll be bringing a pound of shnecken.

Whose Idea Was This, Anyway?

This catalog rant all started when Ellen received the Crate & Barrel Christmas catalog. We love Crate & Barrel; we shop there often, but when Ellen saw the picture of their Jingle Elf Plate, she plotzed. Was she the only one who noticed the mistake?

What is wrong with this picture?

Who was the Art Director who thought that graham crackers weren’t attractive enough for the photo of s’mores? And who thought that matzah would be a better visual? We did a double take when we noticed this cultural confusion faux pas.

Speaking of elves and double takes, Joyce can’t get over the Brookstone holiday catalog. After the pages of cool electronic iPad gadgets, kids’ travel toys and massaging lounge chairs, she came across a page labeled “Elf Help.” It featured mini personal massagers and intimate moisturizers. What exactly is an elf’s job if this is the help he gives? We thought they worked with reindeer and toys.

What Would We Do With All This Stuff, Anyway?

If we were Christian, we know we would already own a lot of this Christmas stuff, because although we can resist that moose footstool, we’ve spent years dreaming of the lights and tinsel and the 300 ornaments we would have for our sentimental family tree. If we had a tree. We sublimate by purchasing ornaments for friends who have Christmas trees.

There is not a lot of Hanukkah stuff to tempt us, and with all the clutter we already have in our houses, that’s a good thing. In the flood of catalogs, there was not one devoted to menorahs, dreidels, or silver and blue snowflakes. That’s why our Hanukkah supplies fit in one plastic bin. (We’re heading to our attics to bring them down now).

We love what’s crammed into our little bins – menorahs our kids made in preschool, the same cutouts we hang every year and an endless supply of Hanukkah candles. Because they are one of the few attractive holiday items we can buy, we do so every year.

Whether your halls are decked in red and green or silver and blue, we wish you Happy Holidays.

Everyone’s heard the old joke that if it’s 5772 on the Jewish calendar and 4708 on the Chinese calendar, what did Jewish people do without Chinese food for a thousand years? Guess they suffered with kishka and gribenes and prayed that something better would come along.

For Jewish people, there’s no better time for Chinese food than Christmas Day, when almost everyone else is celebrating Christmas at home with ham, Yule logs and presents. Most businesses are closed, except for those owned by  Buddhists, Hindus and Muslims. When we are home for the holidays, we go to our local favorite Asian restaurants; it’s harder when we’re lucky enough to be vacationing on Christmas. If your hotel doesn’t have the all-inclusive buffet, you have to improvise with what’s open. That’s how we once ended up at Debbie Wong’s in Pittsfield, Massachusetts and at Henry’s Hunan, the world’s worst Chinese buffet, in Red River, New Mexico.

This sign came to us in a forwarded e-mail joke. It’s nice to know our business is appreciated. And please save us a table for 6. We’ll be there after the movie.

We’ve both been married long enough that we no longer have to argue over going to his parents’ house or ours. Now we are the parents. We’re the sandwich generation, and many of our parents are living the good life at Leisure World. Their downsized digs don’t include a dining room table that expands to seat 24.

When our mothers presented us with their Irish linen banquet tablecloth and their “good china,” they were passing the baton. We have been elected to host all future family feasts. And we do enjoy it. We’re grateful that our guests generally go home after dinner, unlike one of our friends, whose extended family members like her house so much that they usually bring a bottle of wine and a suitcase and move into one of her spare bedrooms for the long weekend.

We’re seasoned enough to know we’ll end up buying a new tablecloth at the last minute because the old one was put away wrinkled and with a big wine stain only partially washed out. We know that when someone asks what to bring, we’ll say, “whatever you want,” but we really don’t want their broccoli and mushroom soup casserole. And when our husbands ask if we are hosting the next event, that means they will do their part and bring up the extra folding chairs from the basement.

But if you’re hosting Thanksgiving there are other pressing dilemmas:

How much do you have to channel Martha Stewart? The diva of domesticity has an entire website devoted to Thanksgiving, from how to scoop out a squash to how to turn your leftover turkey into Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches. She advises that “fabric glue, glitter, and masking tape are all you need to add understated glamour to your Thanksgiving table runner.” The last time we tried one of her projects we ended up with glitter in the mashed potatoes.

If you are sick of serving exactly the same menu every year, how many substitutions can you put on the table before people notice and start to yell? We remember the time we substituted roasted kale with pancetta for creamed spinach or butternut squash gratin for mashed sweet potatoes topped with mini-marshmallows. Our kids still haven’t gotten over it.

Can the supermarket’s advertised take-out dinner for 10 possibly taste as good as it looks on the poster? We read the circular from the local organic specialty market and saw that for $20 per person you can get an all-natural turkey with cider-pomegranate glaze, traditional side dishes included. For just a penny less ($19.99) you can select a vegan main dish. But who will call the police to break up the riot when we place the platter of Tofurkey, that popular soy-sauce-colored tofu shaped like a turkey, in front of our guests?

Which brings us to the question of credit. How many side dishes can you purchase and dump into your own china bowls, yet still claim you made the whole meal? What if you made all the sides but bought the turkey, the star of the show, preroasted for you at the market? Taking credit for everything on the table becomes problematic when a guest raves about the not-from-scratch dish and asks for the recipe. “Oh, it’s not hard, you just chop the onions first,” you may say, modestly glancing downward. “I forget what comes next. I’ll just e-mail you the recipe.”

Every year we’re tempted by those restaurant ads that promise to welcome all the members of the family on the big day. We wonder what it would be like on Thanksgiving if there were no dishes, no cleanup, and a waiter to serve us.

But our families are too noisy to be in a restaurant. We don’t want to disturb the other diners, who will also be quizzing their college kids about roommate troubles, listening patiently to their sister’s travel plans, and telling their mother-in-law for the third time that no, Michelle is not engaged yet, just living with him. In a restaurant, we couldn’t leave the room to check the football scores on TV, and our kids wouldn’t be able to play “Thanksgiving Tango” on the piano for their cousins.

Most important, leftovers would be scarce. We would miss eating pecan pie and cranberry sauce for breakfast on Friday morning.

But don’t let us fool you. When our kids phone home from faraway locales and say they can make it, and they’re bringing friends, we’ll say, “Sure.” And when our sisters ask a month ahead what they can bring, we’ll say, “Whatever you want.” And we’ll tell our husbands, again, to please bring up the chairs from the basement.

But mostly, we’ll be thankful we can all be together.

Note: This first appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer, 11/16

The dogs have learned that when the family sits at the dining room table,  they should sit and be good and they can expect a piece of challah; the dogs even seem to know that when the family starts to “bench” (sing the blessing after meals) chances of more food coming their way are slim.  O.K. Interesting, but not amazing so far. How does the mom call the dogs in from outside? She stands at the back door and  says the “motzi.”  The dogs come running.

The dogs must be Jewish.

Nurses hold newborn babies in Lebanon on Oct. 31, 2011, the day the world’s population hit 7 billion.

And that’s what we see when we look out our windows. In both of our neighborhoods, we are getting to be the oldest people on the street. The little kids that our kids played with are away at college, getting jobs, moving out and getting engaged. Just like our kids (except for the engaged part). And young families are moving in.

The house next door to Ellen was recently renovated and sold to a young couple with a 3-month-old baby. Now Ellen spends way too much time gazing out her kitchen window at the new neighbors’ den – filled with a deluxe, newfangled stroller, baby swing, soft play mat and more. All those accoutrements we used to have…

We miss babies. Kind of.

We miss being able to hold our kids, pick them up in our arms. Ellen’s youngest is still a baby, in the way that teenagers can act like babies.  But he is 6’4” tall and muscular. Hugging Andy is like hugging a redwood. Substantial, but not as satisfying as being able to sniff a baby’s neck and smooth their downy hair. Joyce remembers how when her kids were 5-months-old, she wished they could stay that age forever. They were so snuggly against her chest, so smiley and so immobile. Now, at about 300 months old, they’re still smiley – in the pictures they post on the computer from their travels around the world.

When you walk into Kohl’s, the first thing you see is the baby clothes department. The bright colors and tiny little outfits hit us in the kishkas every time. Most recently, the Thanksgiving clothing display featured adorable little brown and orange onesies that read, “I’m a little turkey,” and “Mommy’s little drumstick.” We wanted to buy them so badly even though we have no one who will fit in them.

The last time Michael Scolnic wore suspenders and a bow tie

Joyce has been buying baby gifts for friends who are welcoming their first grandchildren. Luckily, there’s a kids’ store around the corner from her where she can spend hours comparing the merits of a purple sparkle pajama set vs. a pink fluffy sweater. Looking at the delicious, tiny-sized clothes reminds Joyce of the brief window – birth to age 2 – when her children allowed her to pick out their clothes and dress them. That was when Samantha wore that black and yellow striped outfit with a bear embroidered on the chest – and it wasn’t even Halloween.

Samantha Eisenberg at age 2. Notice the exquisite detail on her outfit, like the bow with the rhinestone heart on the shoulder. The next day, Samantha began picking out her own clothes.

Our friends tell us that the great thing about grandchildren is that you can play with them and hand them back. We’re not ready for grandkids, but it  would be nice to have one or two to play with now and then.

We have baby envy in an abstract kind of way. We know what raising a kid entails, so we’re not really serious. Our yearning ignores dirty diapers, the inconsolable crying and the childhood fevers. And, truly, we are not ready for our kids to have kids.

But it sure would be nice to pat some pulkes – the chubby, cute baby thigh variety — every once in a while. And it would be so sweet to touch a baby’s cheek (more gently than our grandmothers pinched ours) and whisper “shayna punim.”

That’s why we keep visiting the baby next door.

Oy! Although it’s not as bad as the large display of sparkling apple cider and plastic champagne glasses, arrayed in the supermarket above the sign urging us to “celebrate the Jewish New Year!”  — we’re generally not in favor of people turning nouns into verbs.  As in:  ”Don’t disrespect us by lumping our beloved pastry with your bear-claws.”

This technically is Panera’s second offense; my MIL insists on calling the chain cafe, “La Panera” as if to embody it with a bit of Frenchified high-class when we take her there for a salad.

We like our babka chocolate from the deli without the “la.”

We know the temporary Halloween stores quite well. In fact, we’ve been dragged there many times against our will. When our kids were younger, they would beg us to go and waste money on  buy a $12.99 plastic pirate sword that would be used exactly one time before it was stashed in the basement. The day before Halloween, they would desperately remember they needed glow-in-the-dark green hair gel – and we would arrive just as the store was closing, just in time to make a purchase.

Our kids are on their own for costumes now, but we couldn’t resist taking a peek for old time’s sake at what’s popular this year. Here’s what we found:

Those Marvel superheroes are as popular as ever. Chances are, Superman, Captain America, Thor and Wolverine will be trick or treating at your door. So will children dressed as Transformer robots. All these superheroes are fine with us; we’re in favor of kids choosing good over evil. We’ve had enough of Jason and Freddy Krueger. We were happy not to find any grade-school-size costumes of Dexter, the popular TV serial killer.

Speaking of evil: Maybe old-time vampires fit in that category, but modern ones are cute, sexy, and only come out at Twilight. We should be so lucky to find Robert Pattinson knocking on our door. We’re expecting to see many teenage girls dressed as vampires, in their cutest capes and sexiest fishnet stockings, hoping to meet their vampire soul mate on Halloween.

Years ago, Mario and Luigi made the transition from video game to Halloween costume. This year’s video game entry is Angry Birds. The bright red, adult-size Angry Bird costume comes with giant pockets that you can stuff with pillows to plump yourself up. We also saw a neon yellow, triangular-shaped Angry Bird that you can stuff your angry toddler into. The adult costume retails for about $45. We think that’s a big investment – because next year you’ll want to dress up as the horse, the pig, or the corn stalk from Farmville.

He doesn't look angry

It’s bad enough that your teenagers sometimes watch Jersey Shore. God forbid your daughter wants to be Snooki for Halloween. The Snooki costume dress is advertised as “a sexy, metallic, leopard print mini-dress with lots of cleavage.”  Hair bump sold separately. For $9.99, your son can get plastic abs and go as The Situation.

Lady Gaga is in costume year-round, so it’s no surprise that she’s big for Halloween. Let’s hope your daughter goes for the sequined black and white poker face outfit or the green sky-high platform shoes and you don’t find a steak missing from your refrigerator. Personally, we prefer candy. It is the theme of the holiday. And if you want to celebrate it in style, you can go as Katy Perry. Just order her blue wig, with or without the molded cupcake bra. Or maybe you want the candy dress imprinted with ice cream, cupcakes and candy treats.

Lady Gaga -size 6x

Have a party to go to but don’t want to concoct an entire costume? Just dig out an old prom dress – of course, ours still fit us – and buy a crazy hat. Ta-da! You are Princess Beatrice at the royal wedding. We’re still fascinated by her fascinator.

So your kids are gone, and your husband won’t put down the remote and put on that white coat to play doctor to your nurse. Your cat won’t hold still. You can always dress the dog. Wal-Mart offers 91 different dog costumes including a giraffe, a bumblebee or a killer whale. We’re on our way to buy a puppy right now…

P.S. When writing this article, we realized that we both have strong principles about what can be bought ready-made and what should be homemade. But we’re opposites: Ellen refused to buy store-bought plastic Ninja Turtle masks when her kids were little; she made them sit with her and make their own costumes using glue, magic markers and felt.  Joyce, on the other hand, gave in to her daughter’s wish to be the most beautiful princess ever and usually made a purchase from the Disney store. This year, our kids are mostly grown and trick-or-treating in their own neighborhoods so we’ll have to be content with welcoming the neighbor’s little ones, handing out the candy and voting for our favorite costume –home-made or store-bought.

Happy Halloween!

Sukkot is a joyous holiday that celebrates the harvest in the land of Israel in both ancient times and today. Along with Passover and Shavuot, Sukkot is one of the three pilgrimage festivals, when ancient Israelites traveled to the Temple in Jerusalem with gifts of the first fruits and offerings to God. Today, Sukkot is like Thanksgiving, a festival where we thank God for the blessings of the harvest.

During Sukkot, it’s traditional to visit or build a sukkah (SUH-kah in Hebrew). This small hut is reminder of the temporary nature of the tents the Israelites lived while wondering in the wilderness after the exodus from Egypt.

A sukkah is constructed of wood, cloth and other natural materials. It must have at least three sides; instead of building a real wall, people hang cloth or canvas from poles. The roof is formed from branches and the greenery (skakh in Hebrew) because the sky and stars must be visible through it. Sukkah decorations include fruits and vegetables, gourds and Indian corn, flowers, autumn leaves and garlands, which are hung from the roof. We’ve discovered that hanging colorful, red hot chili peppers and tangy lemons discourages squirrels from nibbling on the décor. It’s also common to decorate the sukkah with artworks, which can range from professional weavings and hangings to colorful posters crayoned by children.

Many families choose to build their own sukkah — in the backyard or on a porch or patio. In addition, synagogues, JCCs and other organization put up sukkahs for the community to enjoy.

This is Boro Park, Brooklyn where any fire escape is a suitable spot for a sukkah

But you don’t need to be a construction manager to build your own sukkah. You can pick up supplies from your local hardware store or buy a kit online. For around $200, thesukkahproject.com offers “klutz-proof sukkah kits” – and all the accessories you’ll need, from plastic fruits to bamboo roof mats to silk-screen lulav and etrog banners. At sukkahkits.com, they offer the opportunity to “enjoy the magical tradition of eating in your own sukkah without the yearly struggle. . .” They claim their pre-fab sukkah can be assembled in 36 minutes.

During Sukkot, it’s customary to eat meals in the sukkah, and many people invite friends and guests to join them. It’s considered a mitzvah (good deed) to share the beauty of your sukkah with friends. The Scolnics have hosted many parties in their sukkah over the years. The most meaningful one was a gathering for their daughter Jessica’s baby naming ceremony (complete with bagels and a big fish tray).

When you run out of regular sukkah guests, you can summon the ushpizin (Aramaic for “visitors”) into the sukkah to “enjoy” a meal on Sukkot. This custom, much like reserving a glass of wine for the Prophet Elijah on Passover, has its roots in Kabbalah, the mystical side of Judaism.

It’s traditional to invite the patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) and matriarchs (Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah). Kabbalah says that being in a sukkah generates enough spiritual energy to summon these seven ancestral figures to partake in the delights of the sukkah. Some Sephardic Jews, whose families originally came from Mediterranean countries like Italy, Greece and Spain, set aside an ornately decorated chair in their sukkah for the ushpizin’s visit.

You can even invite the spirits of your own ancestors into the sukkah — your grandparents and great-grandparents who have contributed to your heritage and knowledge. It’s an opportunity to get to know some of the branches of your spouse’s family tree and/or teach your children about the relatives they might not know. If your child is named in honor or memory of someone, this is the perfect time to talk about it. As a family project, you could make a poster of your family tree – including all the names, spouses and children as far back as you can remember – and hang it in the sukkah.

So this fall, if someone invites you to dinner in the sukkah or pizza in the hut, you’ll know to what to expect – and you won’t be surprised when dinner is served under the stars.

Editor’s note:

This article is also on one of our (other) favorite websites: InterfaithFamily.com

As we were preparing our Rosh Hashanah dinner shopping list, our kids reminded us to stock up on apples and a new jar of honey. Dipping apples in honey is their favorite part of the holiday meal. Another Rosh Hashanah tradition is eating a large round challah – not the traditional oblong shape. A round challah is symbolic of the circle of life and symbolic of the cyclical nature of the years. Serving round challah is an example of minhag, literally a Jewish custom that’s not mentioned in the Torah or mandated by Jewish law. But nonetheless, it’s followed. Whether your choose raisin challah or plain is up to you.

Just like your mother would tell you not to put the ketchup bottle on the table, you shouldn’t serve honey right from the jar. And you’d get all sticky trying to dip your apple in.

Serving honey in a beautiful pot or decorative bowl is a hiddur mitzvah – a way to enhance doing a mitzvah by using a beautiful ritual object. That’s why, along with Passover goblets and Hanukkah menorahs, Judaica artists create fancy honey pots for Rosh Hashanah. A quick search online or in a synagogue gift shop will turn up traditional pots made of brass and pewter, others shaped like a beehive, or ornate silver pots with mother-of-pearl inlay.

When you go to purchase that new jar of honey, here are some facts to keep you in-the-know:

• The color and flavor of honey depends on the flower that supplies its nectar to the bee. In general, light-colored honey is milder in taste and darker honey is bolder.
• In the United States alone, there are more than 300 types of honey with blossom sources ranging from alfalfa to blueberry to sage.
• Honey is a major agricultural product in Israel. Producers include Lin’s Bee Farm, a family-owned apiary, and Moshav Beit Yitzchak, a cooperative farm.
• Dutch Gold Honey, a family business headquartered in Lancaster, PA, has produced natural honey since the 1950s. In fact, patriarch Ralph Gamber was the inventor of the ubiquitous plastic honey bear squeeze bottle.
• What’s more exotic that bees that forage on the rainforest and surf on their day off? Big Island Bees in Kealakekua, Hawaii, makes single-floral artisan honey from the native wilelaiki and macadamia nut blossoms.

What a sweet way to start the new year.

Le shanah tovah tikatevu.    Happy 5772.

Here’s a recipe for traditional Jewish Apple Cake from Joyce’s Aunt Ruth

4 large apples, peeled and sliced
2-3/4 cups sugar
1/4 cup cinnamon
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoons baking powder
4 large eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons honey
1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla

Preheat oven to 350°. Grease and flour a 10-inch spring pan or 3 regular loaf pans.

Mix 1 cup sugar with cinnamon. Add in flour and baking powder.
In mixer, beat eggs and 1-3/4 cups of sugar. Add oil, orange juice, honey and vanilla. Add in dry mixture and beat for 3 minutes.
Pour one-third of batter into the pan. Add half of sliced apples. Sprinkle half of the cinnamon/sugar mixtures. Repeat with another layer of batter, apple and cinnamon/sugar mix. Top with remaining batter.
Bake 1 hour (in the spring pan), 35-40 minutes (in the loaf pans) or until an inserted toothpick comes out dry. Cool on rack.