We hosted a Shabbos dinner last night for a group of 12 Jewish artist friends. It was a pot luck with a planned menu, and featured cabbage & brisket soup; a beautiful green salad with beets, pecans, blue cheese, pomegranate seeds, and blood oranges; challah bread with chopped liver; brisket; kasha varnishkes; tzimmes; asparagus; and taiglach for dessert. We had wonderful wines and port, and we laughed and ate and talked into the night.
Here is Zuma at the front door waiting for guests to arrive.
These Mexican folk art figures have been in my dining room since 1967. The collection has grown a little over the years. My exposed chimney has plenty of little steps and niches.
This little dinner gathering was a great antidote to the the nightly news, with all its bad/sad news - a little sweetness in a world that seems to grow meaner and less tolerant with each passing day. We're doing our best to keep open hearts and minds, but it does feel good (I must admit) to see B*sh & Co. taking a bruising no matter which way he turns. Turning towards Latin America has been no cake walk. The sight of that huge, bulletproof black limo entourage sliding silently through the impoverished streets of Sao Paolo makes chills run up my spine. How dare he ride his commodious, air-conditioned, luxury bubble into their cities, dishing up more hypocrisy and more pain everywhere he stops? When will it end, and how, and what can we do to become friendly neighbors once again, rather than hated imperialist enemies?