A Dollop of Discretion

The SJG Kugel:  too delish to deny yourself a slice.

Why the smart rich boys who came up with Google didn’t call their fancy search engine Kugel is one of life’s mysteries. Personally, I think they made a big mistake. Sure, Google is a cute name. It’s become part of our daily lexicon. It has a nice ring to it. But Kugel is better. Kugel deserves to be a search engine and a verb, too.  For when you Kugel, you bring happiness to those around you. To Kugel is to make people smile, clap their hands and do a little hora around the dining room. To Kugel is so easy, just about anybody can do it and not mess up. I’d go so far as to say that Kugeling is practically fool-proof. I say practically because to Kugel well requires a dash of common sense. Not much, but just enough to signal the Kugeler’s brain that a dollop of discretion is necessary.

I understand, it’s tempting to over-Kugel. I’ve seen it done many a time. I’m still digesting a complicated, multi-layered Kugel from 1974. For generations, many have fought a precarious battle: how to Kugel, responsibly. It can be done, I assure you, and the SJG is here to guide you.  To Kugel wisely, you must fight the urge to open your cabinets, collect everything at eye level and dump it all into the pan. That’s just reckless and wrong.  I’m begging you to hold it right there, people, and reconsider. To Kugel isn’t all that random. To Kugel is to show some restraint.  Cherries? Pineapple? Raisins? Fruit Cocktail?

Unquestionably delish, just not in the same Kugel. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. I’m a long-time Kugeler.  Maybe you're inclined to add fruit to the mix. Far be it from me to talk you out of it. I’m not anti-fruit by any means. Just don’t go overboard, my friends.  Pick one fruit. ONE. You’ll thank me later.  Oh, and most importantly, don’t block anyone’s arteries in the process. You don’t need Uncle Seymour’s future by-pass clogging up your conscience, now do you?

And so, as you stand before your fridge, so eager to please, you’ll see cartons aplenty; calories begging to Kugel right along with the noodles. Sour cream. Cream cheese. Cottage cheese. Milk. Eggs. Butter. What else?  Step back and ask yourself the following:  How much does my Kugel really need?  What is my goal in life? To bake a Kugel heavier than a truckload of bricks? Or to cook up a slice of heaven, light enough to enjoy seconds, if not thirds?  Do I want to prevent the successful zipping up of my jeans (and those of my loved ones) the morning after? Will I Kugel like a mensch? Will I repent my Kugeling ways come Yom Kippur?  The choice, of course, is yours. To Kugel is to exercise free will. Everyone Kugels differently. It’s what makes the world go round. Here’s how I choose to Kugel. I share it with you now.

The SJG’s Kugel:
1 pound wide noodles (cooked)
7 eggs
½ cup sugar
1 pint low fat cottage cheese
3 cups reduced fat milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 stick butter (melted)
1 cup raisins
1 cup Corn flake crumbs

Mix together all ingredients except corn flakes. Place mixture into greased casserole. Refrigerate overnight. Next day, sprinkle with corn flake crumbs. Bake at 350 for an hour and a half.  If corn flakes or noodles start to over-brown, cover with foil.  A burnt kugel isn't doing you any favors.  So.  This is how I Kugel. My question is: How do you?

(9/8/10... reposted by request after I "humble bragged" about the global healing power of my kugel) 

And The Winner Is...

Forbes announced its 10th anniversary of the World's 100 Most Powerful Women, with Sherman Oaks' very own Short Jewish Gal topping the list for the fourth consecutive year.  "I can't believe I beat out Beyonce again," she said, over a glass of refreshing seltzer water.  "I won't lie, it makes me a little nervous to be singled out for the dramatic impact my kugel has had on the world.  Who knew that a nice noodle casserole could heal on such a global level?  I just hope Solange doesn't show up at my door and aim those pointy Stuart Weitzmans in my general direction.  You know how protective she is of her big sister. One good kick could open up a few stitches from the ol' hysterectomy. Oy, it hurts just to think about it. Guess who else I beat out?  Sara Blakely, the genius who invented Spanx.  Just between us, that gal's done more for humanity than my awe-inspiring kugel.  I mean, she's a miracle worker.  A life without Spanx?  Please!  It's unimaginable.  I'm telling you, without Spanx, I couldn't hide the kugel consumption. Don't get me wrong, I'm super honored to top the list yet again.  But as history has shown us more than once, it's not always easy being one of the Chosen People. Maybe next year, Forbes, you could choose somebody else for a change.  All this attention is starting to go to my keppy, and that's never a good thing."

On The Shelf

Anisa!

"On the shelf or off the shelf?" -- Anisa, belly dance teacher extraordinaire.  She owns the studio and is crashing our jazz class.  
Blank stares from those of us trying to learn the routine.  On the shelf? Off the shelf?  Say what?
"You don't know what on the shelf means?" -- Anisa.
"Never heard it."  -- the one, the only Doug Rivera.
"Boobs on the shelf or off the shelf." -- Anisa demonstrates, thrusting her chest proudly, up and over her rib cage (on the shelf) and then contracting it (off the shelf.)
"Oh... cool.  I love that!" -- The SJG.
For the remainder of class, I shout, "On the shelf!" and "Off the shelf!" at least 123 times.  At last, I've found a saying that means so much, over and beyond Anisa's definition:
"That's on the shelf!" =  "So hip, I could scream!"
"On the shelf in 2015!" = "Next year in Jerusalem!"
"You found that on the shelf?" = "You paid retail for that?  You have my condolences."
"You're off the shelf, mister!"  = "Go to your room!"
"Are you off the shelf?" = "Have you lost your eff'n mind?"
Or maybe it just means if you've got it, flaunt it, and even if you don't, fake it and smile.  That works, too.

The Big Sneeze

Looking for protection and peace of mind?  Who isn't.  Well, listen up, my friends.  Sherman Oaks-based The Feeling Is Mutual Insurance Group is now offering preferred customers basic sneeze protection in case you're ever subjected to one of the Short Jewish Gal's Epic Sneezes. The sporadically-acclaimed Kleenex hoarder may only be 5'1"-ish, but trust us, her allergy-driven emissions pack a wallop.  The SJG has been known to clear out movie theaters, synagogues, classrooms, markets and the United terminal at LAX with one grandiose achoo. Why, only yesterday she sneezed so loudly she broke two champagne glasses, shattered a window and fractured a darling figurine of two birds kissing.  On top of which, she busted the eardrums of various family members, and sent her 12-year-old, slightly incontinent dog running for cover.

Our SJG Sneeze Protection Policy provides you with "sleep at night" assurance that you can recover, physically and emotionally, from the devastating aftershock to your central nervous system should you find yourself in the path of the Big One, God forbid.  You just never know when the SJG's gonna blow.  But not to worry, my friends.  Here at The Feeling Is Mutual, you're in good hands washed daily with the finest generic anti-bacterial soap money can buy.  We'd never lie or mislead you, intentionally, and how many insurance companies would be willing to make such an outrageous claim?  So please, if you know what's good for you, or even if you don't and you need us to remind you, give us a call, day or night, and we'll give you a free quote and a customized sneeze guard.  Call us by midnight tonight and we'll throw in a pair of squishy earplugs in purple... unless you prefer orange, but those are on back order.  Here at The Feeling Is Mutual, we have only your best interest in mind.

When In Doubt...

Eat a bagel.

My dad had many guiding principles he loved to share.  One of his favorites: "If they put food in front of you, eat."  Toward the end of his life, his taste buds started to play tricks on him.  His beloved food just didn't taste the same.  The salad I always brought him for lunch was suddenly "dull and without personality."  It was yet another conspiracy he blamed on anti-Semitism.  Even deli had lost its luster. But on this Memorial Day, we'll honor the WWII vet's love of bagels and lox.While others barbecue, we'll brunch and drink a toast on his behalf: "To the man who made us laugh and taught us to love a good onion bagel, above all." Some life lessons you never forget, and this is one of them.

All You Need Is...

LOVE!

Much like people, there are all kinds of weddings.  Big, small, fancy, casual.  Church weddings.  Temple weddings.  Hotel weddings. Outdoor weddings.  In the long run, the size and the setting are secondary. Underlying the event is love. You need love at a wedding, and lots of it.  You need love on the faces of everyone present.  You need love in the air.  Wherever you get married, you need love and lots of it.  Which brings us to today:  A second wedding.  A bride who lost her first husband gets another chance at happiness.  A groom gets to wed the love of his life.  It's his second time around, too. The "I do's" will be quick.  It's all about the dancing.  A celebration of crazy, unpredictable life and love, hope and new beginnings.  So, if I may take this moment to say:  Mazel tov to the lovebirds.  Mazel tov and then some.   Wishing you both all the joy you deserve, times ten. Personally, I can't wait to kick up my heels.  Let's get this party started. It's long overdue.

Who Moved My Cart?

(Sherman Oaks) A short kvetchy gal showed considerable self-control at Gelson's the other day, when she parked her cart, as opposed to her carcass, at the cashier's station and left for two seconds to collect a bag of beloved Lifesaver Pep-O-Mints. During her brief absence, a bad person sidelined her cart and stole her spot.  "You moved my cart," the SJG said to the "perp" in question. "I asked the checker if the cart belonged to anybody," the woman said, smugly.  Whereupon the SJG pondered what to do next:

1. Bitch slap her.
2. Recite the SJG Bill of Rights, a lengthy treatise that tends to run out of steam at the 20-minute mark.
 3. Say nothing and hightail it to another line where she felt the love.

In a surprise decision, one that exhibited growth and maturity, the SJG picked number 3.  She ignored the insensitive cart-mover, even when she called after her, "Hey! It's fine! Take your spot back! It's no big deal!"

In the universe of the SJG, everything is a big deal.   Everything.  But sometimes it's just better to walk away.