Jewish Journal; May 13, 2009
Read original here
According to Jewish tradition, a person who makes three Jewish matches that lead to marriage earns shares in the world to come. If true, Joe Shapira is a big stockholder in heaven.
As the founding partner of JDate in 1997, he’s among the most prolific shadchanim (matchmakers) in Jewish history. No exact statistics are available on the number of marriages arising from the popular Jewish online dating brand, but more than 21,000 JDate couples reported their marriages to their cyber-yenta in 2008 alone. The site spans England, France and Israel, with Russian and Spanish sites in development.
Shapira’s success and personal allegiances become clear from the minute you step into the foyer of his Beverly Hills home, where the flags of America and Israel flank a view of a lush backyard. Born Yoav Shapira in the Tel Aviv suburb of Givatayim, it’s safe to say the immigrant to America of 30 years has realized the American dream.
“When I came to Los Angeles, I worked for the guy who developed this entire community, and I was the person who delivered the house to new buyers. Those houses looked to me like palaces, and I never imagined in my wildest dreams I would own one.”
Busts of George W. Bush and Rudy Giuliani adorn the living-room coffee table. On the mantle are pictures of other notable politicians (Democrats included) posing with Shapira and his wife of five years, Nickie, 33, who wasn’t Jewish when they met. Her roots are half-Japanese, one-quarter Chinese, an eighth Korean, and an eighth native Hawaiian.
“She converted and she’s one of the most revered pro-Israel activists in town,” he said. Indeed, the Princeton alumna was recently made president of the World Alliance for Israel Political Action Committee (WAIPAC), a position she juggles with her production company, 8th Wonder Entertainment, specializing in urban entertainment. Shapira credits Nickie with his systematic approach to pro-Israel philanthropy, and the couple will be honored for their contributions on Sunday, May 17, at the Israel Cancer Research Fund gala to be held at the Century Plaza Hyatt Regency.
“Converts are usually more committed to tradition than people who were born Jewish, especially Israelis,” Shapira, 56, said. “We who come from Israel for the most part don’t practice tradition in Israel. I very seldom had a Shabbat dinner before she converted.”
In 2004, Shapira resigned as CEO of Spark Networks, the parent company of JDate, four years after taking the company public, a process that he says took the fun out of sustaining Jewish continuity (“Who wants to live with lawyers and accountants all day?”). He holds shares in Spark for sentimental value and now serves as president of Java Equities, a real estate acquisitions and management conglomerate — a job he describes as “less exciting but stable.”
Shapira founded JDate with partner Alon Carmel a few years after divorcing his first wife, with whom he has three kids, but he never used JDate for himself, mostly, he said, “because I have a very outgoing personality, so I never had a problem starting a conversation with someone I liked. I met women everywhere — traffic lights, the supermarket.”
But without JDate, he probably wouldn’t have met Nickie. She came to his office in search of subjects to interview for a book she was writing at the time, a practical guide for finding and marrying Mr. Right. “I was very attracted to her but I couldn’t hit on her in the office because there were other people there, and I kept a strict code of behavior in the office,” he said.
Nickie had her eye on him from day one, too; she even told her sister after the meeting that she was going to marry him.
She sent him a thank-you e-mail, to which he responded with a tactical P.S.: “Let me know when you get tired of your boyfriend.”
“I didn’t know if she had a boyfriend; I was fishing,” he said. Yet she fed his flirtation by calling again for “business” only to leave her number with his secretary. They went out three nights in a row, and the rest is (non)-JDate history.
Toward the end of the interview, Nickie stepped down the staircase decked out in a black cocktail dress, about to head out to a dinner party with Bill Clinton, but she took a few minutes to tell her version of the love story. “His humor and politics, his stature because he’s a tall guy,” she said were the qualities that immediately attracted her to her future husband.
“I wasn’t so involved in any pro-Israel causes prior to meeting him, but I was always a fan of politics. After Sept. 11, I became a lot more hawkish, so that’s when I started to follow Middle East and Israel issues.” Her love for Israel grew with their travels together; she has since learned Hebrew.
Nickie never published her book. “It would’ve been too revealing. I think I got a little older, and I didn’t want those things out there for everyone to see forever.” Although it seems the principles worked.
“I didn’t want to get married,” Shapira admitted, probably much like many who dabble on JDate. But he’d met his match: “She’s a closer.”
Her secret, according to Shapira: “Become the best thing that ever happened to him.”
And for Shapira? “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, and I knew she wouldn’t stick around. She had an agenda, things she wanted to accomplish — she wouldn’t let me interfere with that agenda.”
Nickie offered some advice for women seeking a mate: “I think a lot of them roll with it without thinking about it in a methodical, organized process.”
Says Shapira, “Our process was very organized.”
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Israel Cafe Culture Rocks Sunset
Jewish Journal; April 29, 2009
Click here for original
Last September, when the Israeli Consulate raised the Israeli flag over Wilshire Boulevard at a festive ceremony with the mayor, it was seen as an historic symbol of deepening Israeli-Angeleno ties. Around the same time, however, another significant event took place blocks away, on Sunset Boulevard, as Israeli Angelenos raised their first mugs of hafuch (cappuccino) at the opening of Aroma Bakery & Café’s Hollywood branch.
First established in Encino in 2005, Aroma is more than a cafe — it’s like an unofficial branch of the Israeli Consulate. Walk in, and you might as well be in Israel. Cute Israeli waitresses serve customers like they’re still jet-lagged from their flight here. Tel Aviv-style Israeli posses dressed in nightclub gear spread their chairs and legs out like they own the place, cigarettes in tow, cell phones on tabletops. And like back home, the action takes place late into the night.
For many Israeli transplants, Encino’s Aroma is an absorption center, community center and employer. “It’s the first place you take Israelis,” said Shanni Sabban, 19, waiting in line for a table at Aroma Encino one Wednesday night.
As I waited for a seat on the packed patio, the hostess related it was her first job after she landed. Her thick Israeli accent probably wouldn’t suffice as a Starbucks barista; here, English isn’t required.
“Shalosh!” (three!) demanded one lady. “Eser dakot!” (10 minutes), the hostess replied over an Israeli rock song.
The Sunset branch, however, is poised to spread Israeli cafe culture to L.A. residents who could care less about Zion. Located on the site of the former “Rock ‘n’ Roll” Denny’s (nicknamed so for its proximity to the Guitar Center and the Sunset Strip), it has imported design motifs from Encino: a wide outdoor patio conducive to people watching; a fireplace for that “home away from home” vibe; and valet parking (“so Israelis can show off their cars,” said one patron).
Whereas the Encino branch respects Jewish tradition with its all-dairy menu (not kosher certified, though) and a day of rest on Saturday, the Sunset branch is more chiloni (secular). The spiral-bound menu reads like an illustrated book for Middle Eastern Californian cuisine, with prices more befitting a restaurant than a cafe. Ahi tuna shwarma with hummus and ahi tuna kabob are a few of the more creative dishes served with pastas, sandwiches, steaks and Israeli comfort foods like shakshuka, malawach and burekas. A glass showcase features gargantuan desserts, among them Middle Eastern specialties like khadif and baklava.
One Saturday afternoon, the restaurant was full, but no waiting list. Israeli patrons were identifiable not only from appearance, but from their loud decibel of Hebrew. I was greeted unofficially by a party promoter, who immediately added me to his SMS party invite list. I felt like I was back in Tel Aviv, where cafes are prime recruitment ground for partiers.
Sitting inside was another Israeli nightlife player, Motti Aivas, owner of the Avalon nightclub in Hollywood, dipping pita in hummus with two friends. “The food reminds me of ha’aretz [the Land] — and the people, sometimes you want to be with Israelis,” he said.
Not Rami, though, a yored (immigrant from Israel) since 1994. His friends dragged him there. “It’s mostly for arsim, and people who don’t know what arsim are.” For those who fit into the latter category, arsim refers, usually pejoratively, to uncouth Israelis. As for the menu, “It reminds of me of Kapulski” (the once-popular Israeli cafe chain that’s now a favorite among pensioners). He says he prefers the boutique cafes on Third Street for menus — and clientele — with a little more sophistication.
Rami was part of the entourage of an Israeli musician known as HaSaruf, The Burnt Man. With unmistakable long, stringy hair, he got the nickname from a publicity stunt he pulled in 2000, when he made an album disguised as a man crippled from severe burns. (He eventually revealed the scam and took on a new stage name, Zino.)
“What are you doing in Los Angeles?” I asked.
“Working for the agalot,” he joked, referring to the carts at malls manned by Israelis. In fact, he was in Los Angeles for a music convention. Other Israeli musicians touring here have made a stop at Aroma, too — among them Hadag Nachash and Shlomo Artzi.
But Aroma Sunset wants American celebrities and entertainers to feel at home there, too.
Local singer Alexis Miranda had no idea it’s an Israeli hangout. “It was always packed, like 24-7.” She figures the food must justify the crowd. “It was amazing. Grade A,” she said of the chocolate soufflé and chocolate cake.
Actor Eric Reinholt was also there for the first time. “It was the best pizza I ever had,” he said, although he found the service lacking. “I think she was new,” he offered with classic American politeness.
But Aroma Sunset isn’t always packed. On one early Monday morning, Mark Shields from West Liberty, Iowa, population 3,000, was among five patrons. He was in Los Angeles as part of a traveling exhibition on the Oregon Trail. “We passed by yesterday and thought this looks like a great place to spend time,” he said over coffee and two chocolate croissants.
When I told him it’s an extension of a cafe in Encino, he was floored. Turns out he had eaten at the Encino branch last year. He had just passed by and liked it. “It feels ethnic, cultured,” he said. “Everyone sitting around tables, drinking, eating, being happy. Maybe I should go to Israel if this is what it’s like.”
Click here for original
Last September, when the Israeli Consulate raised the Israeli flag over Wilshire Boulevard at a festive ceremony with the mayor, it was seen as an historic symbol of deepening Israeli-Angeleno ties. Around the same time, however, another significant event took place blocks away, on Sunset Boulevard, as Israeli Angelenos raised their first mugs of hafuch (cappuccino) at the opening of Aroma Bakery & Café’s Hollywood branch.
First established in Encino in 2005, Aroma is more than a cafe — it’s like an unofficial branch of the Israeli Consulate. Walk in, and you might as well be in Israel. Cute Israeli waitresses serve customers like they’re still jet-lagged from their flight here. Tel Aviv-style Israeli posses dressed in nightclub gear spread their chairs and legs out like they own the place, cigarettes in tow, cell phones on tabletops. And like back home, the action takes place late into the night.
For many Israeli transplants, Encino’s Aroma is an absorption center, community center and employer. “It’s the first place you take Israelis,” said Shanni Sabban, 19, waiting in line for a table at Aroma Encino one Wednesday night.
As I waited for a seat on the packed patio, the hostess related it was her first job after she landed. Her thick Israeli accent probably wouldn’t suffice as a Starbucks barista; here, English isn’t required.
“Shalosh!” (three!) demanded one lady. “Eser dakot!” (10 minutes), the hostess replied over an Israeli rock song.
The Sunset branch, however, is poised to spread Israeli cafe culture to L.A. residents who could care less about Zion. Located on the site of the former “Rock ‘n’ Roll” Denny’s (nicknamed so for its proximity to the Guitar Center and the Sunset Strip), it has imported design motifs from Encino: a wide outdoor patio conducive to people watching; a fireplace for that “home away from home” vibe; and valet parking (“so Israelis can show off their cars,” said one patron).
Whereas the Encino branch respects Jewish tradition with its all-dairy menu (not kosher certified, though) and a day of rest on Saturday, the Sunset branch is more chiloni (secular). The spiral-bound menu reads like an illustrated book for Middle Eastern Californian cuisine, with prices more befitting a restaurant than a cafe. Ahi tuna shwarma with hummus and ahi tuna kabob are a few of the more creative dishes served with pastas, sandwiches, steaks and Israeli comfort foods like shakshuka, malawach and burekas. A glass showcase features gargantuan desserts, among them Middle Eastern specialties like khadif and baklava.
One Saturday afternoon, the restaurant was full, but no waiting list. Israeli patrons were identifiable not only from appearance, but from their loud decibel of Hebrew. I was greeted unofficially by a party promoter, who immediately added me to his SMS party invite list. I felt like I was back in Tel Aviv, where cafes are prime recruitment ground for partiers.
Sitting inside was another Israeli nightlife player, Motti Aivas, owner of the Avalon nightclub in Hollywood, dipping pita in hummus with two friends. “The food reminds me of ha’aretz [the Land] — and the people, sometimes you want to be with Israelis,” he said.
Not Rami, though, a yored (immigrant from Israel) since 1994. His friends dragged him there. “It’s mostly for arsim, and people who don’t know what arsim are.” For those who fit into the latter category, arsim refers, usually pejoratively, to uncouth Israelis. As for the menu, “It reminds of me of Kapulski” (the once-popular Israeli cafe chain that’s now a favorite among pensioners). He says he prefers the boutique cafes on Third Street for menus — and clientele — with a little more sophistication.
Rami was part of the entourage of an Israeli musician known as HaSaruf, The Burnt Man. With unmistakable long, stringy hair, he got the nickname from a publicity stunt he pulled in 2000, when he made an album disguised as a man crippled from severe burns. (He eventually revealed the scam and took on a new stage name, Zino.)
“What are you doing in Los Angeles?” I asked.
“Working for the agalot,” he joked, referring to the carts at malls manned by Israelis. In fact, he was in Los Angeles for a music convention. Other Israeli musicians touring here have made a stop at Aroma, too — among them Hadag Nachash and Shlomo Artzi.
But Aroma Sunset wants American celebrities and entertainers to feel at home there, too.
Local singer Alexis Miranda had no idea it’s an Israeli hangout. “It was always packed, like 24-7.” She figures the food must justify the crowd. “It was amazing. Grade A,” she said of the chocolate soufflé and chocolate cake.
Actor Eric Reinholt was also there for the first time. “It was the best pizza I ever had,” he said, although he found the service lacking. “I think she was new,” he offered with classic American politeness.
But Aroma Sunset isn’t always packed. On one early Monday morning, Mark Shields from West Liberty, Iowa, population 3,000, was among five patrons. He was in Los Angeles as part of a traveling exhibition on the Oregon Trail. “We passed by yesterday and thought this looks like a great place to spend time,” he said over coffee and two chocolate croissants.
When I told him it’s an extension of a cafe in Encino, he was floored. Turns out he had eaten at the Encino branch last year. He had just passed by and liked it. “It feels ethnic, cultured,” he said. “Everyone sitting around tables, drinking, eating, being happy. Maybe I should go to Israel if this is what it’s like.”
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Next American-Israeli Idol
Jewish Journal; April 27, 2009
Click here for original
Last week a handful of yordim (Israelis who “descended” to America) were given the rare opportunity to make aliyah; that is, to rise back up to Israel—and to stardom. Kochav Nolad (“A Star is Born”), Israel’s “American Idol” knock-off, came to Hollywood, literally, to scout talent for its seventh season. After stops in New York, Florida, and Atlanta, the show’s director, host, and two judges held a round of auditions at the Vanguard nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard for Israeli ex-pats aspiring to become Zion’s Kelly Clarkson or Carrie Underwood but whose Hebrew accents would probably horrify “Idol” judge Simon Cowell.
Auditions were advertised in the American-Israeli press, and singers were asked to prepare two songs—at least one in Hebrew—along with a Hebrew song written specially for the show. The Hollywood leg of the tryouts culminated in an Independence Day party hosted by DJ Eliran and DJ Tal at Vanguard on April 23, where the top five L.A. contenders auditioned live on stage for a few hundred of the show’s fans. For the record, this reporter was among the unsuccessful auditioners.
The party was an Israeli pop culture fest with nary an English word heard amidst a techno version of the hora and other Israeli disco tunes, although the dance floor only reached a quarter capacity—probably due to the hefty $35 entrance fee at the door.
Nevertheless, toward midnight, the crowd managed to squish together near the stage to watch Tzvika Hadar, Israel’s Ryan Seacrest, (although much more round and informal than the “Idol” host), move along the audition. The show’s veteran judges, Israeli singer Margalit “Margol” Tzanani and journalist/filmmaker Gal Uhovsky, raked the talents with true Simon Cowell severity, choosing only two potential “stars” from the batch. The evening ended with a classically tacky tribute to America with Tzanani singing a dance remix of Springstein’s “Born in the USA.”
Footage of the American auditions will be aired as part of the program in the summer, broadcast in the U.S. on the Israeli Channel. Israeli-Angelenos who made the cut have good reason to exile their Hollywood dreams to the Holy Land. Kochav Nolad has been a ratings hit from the start—a favorite among the tweens—launching successful careers of several pop and television stars, including Ninette Tayeb, Shiri Maimon, and Harel Skaat.
Click here for original
Last week a handful of yordim (Israelis who “descended” to America) were given the rare opportunity to make aliyah; that is, to rise back up to Israel—and to stardom. Kochav Nolad (“A Star is Born”), Israel’s “American Idol” knock-off, came to Hollywood, literally, to scout talent for its seventh season. After stops in New York, Florida, and Atlanta, the show’s director, host, and two judges held a round of auditions at the Vanguard nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard for Israeli ex-pats aspiring to become Zion’s Kelly Clarkson or Carrie Underwood but whose Hebrew accents would probably horrify “Idol” judge Simon Cowell.
Auditions were advertised in the American-Israeli press, and singers were asked to prepare two songs—at least one in Hebrew—along with a Hebrew song written specially for the show. The Hollywood leg of the tryouts culminated in an Independence Day party hosted by DJ Eliran and DJ Tal at Vanguard on April 23, where the top five L.A. contenders auditioned live on stage for a few hundred of the show’s fans. For the record, this reporter was among the unsuccessful auditioners.
The party was an Israeli pop culture fest with nary an English word heard amidst a techno version of the hora and other Israeli disco tunes, although the dance floor only reached a quarter capacity—probably due to the hefty $35 entrance fee at the door.
Nevertheless, toward midnight, the crowd managed to squish together near the stage to watch Tzvika Hadar, Israel’s Ryan Seacrest, (although much more round and informal than the “Idol” host), move along the audition. The show’s veteran judges, Israeli singer Margalit “Margol” Tzanani and journalist/filmmaker Gal Uhovsky, raked the talents with true Simon Cowell severity, choosing only two potential “stars” from the batch. The evening ended with a classically tacky tribute to America with Tzanani singing a dance remix of Springstein’s “Born in the USA.”
Footage of the American auditions will be aired as part of the program in the summer, broadcast in the U.S. on the Israeli Channel. Israeli-Angelenos who made the cut have good reason to exile their Hollywood dreams to the Holy Land. Kochav Nolad has been a ratings hit from the start—a favorite among the tweens—launching successful careers of several pop and television stars, including Ninette Tayeb, Shiri Maimon, and Harel Skaat.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thinking Outside the Matzah Ball Box
Jewish Journal; March 28, 2009
Click here for original
When the Israelites rushed out of Egypt, Pharaoh’s men on their heels, they hurriedly bundled their belongings, food included, to carry as much as they could on their backs and donkeys. Seeking to nourish themselves throughout their desert journey to the Promised Land, they rolled together unleavened bread crumbs, eggs and oil to create a round, nutritious finger food. They heated these in water jugs, along with chicken bone scraps, to preserve them and give them flavor. And that’s how matzah ball soup was born.
At least that’s how the matzah ball legend should read. The round dumpling traditionally made of matzah meal, eggs, and some kind of fat is so entrenched in Jewish tradition that its history seems to date back to the Torah itself. The icon of Jewish pop culture, the staple of deli menus, the culinary gem of bubbies worldwide, matzah ball soup is the unofficial symbol of Jewish cuisine, the soup of the one God.
But like many dishes generally regarded as “Jewish foods,” like gefilte fish and cholent, matzah ball soup originated in Eastern Europe. The Yiddish word for matzah balls, “knaidelach,” comes from the German word for dumpling, “knödel.” The matzah ball may very well have been the vanguard Jewish food of its time, an adaptation of the gentile dumpling suited to Passover restrictions and pantries, invented by the Martha Stewart of the shtetl, her (or his?) name now lost in obscurity.
Since then few Jewish chefs, professional and amateur, have dared to tamper with the matzah ball. In that sense, the matzah ball is the “ultra-Orthodox” Jewish food. The most popular recipe for many home cooks today may very well be the one on the matzah meal box. But with the growing sophistication and cross-fertilization of many types of cuisines, that’s changing.
“I think traditional cooks are breaking out; they’re more sophisticated,” said Adeena Sussman, a recipe developer, food writer and cooking instructor based in New York. “Everyone is traveling more and interested in ethnic cuisine. There are a lot of kosher Web sites where you can get kosher gourmet products. Actually, I think Jews who keep Passover strictly are those who are seeking the most innovative ideas because they are those who follow the laws for eight days and are trying to keep their families well-fed and interested for eight days.”
One of the most popular maverick matzah ball soup recipes has been Susie Fishbein’s tri-color matzah ball soup, as featured years ago in her popular “Kosher by Design Entertains” cookbook (Mesorah Publications, 2005) and on “The Today Show” with Katie Couric. The recipe calls for a green maztah ball made with pureed spinach, a yellow matzah ball made with turmeric and a red matzah ball made with tomato paste.
“It was a funky spin on something traditional, and that’s what I do,” said Fishbein from her home in New Jersey. She sought a matzah ball soup that wasn’t only flavorful, but visually appealing and healthful, especially for the children. “I’ve had mothers come up to me in shul and say ‘I only make the green ones, and they’re called ‘Shrek matzah balls,’ and my boys love them.’”
Matzah balls are like a “blank canvas,” ripe with possibilities for adding flavor and color. Last year Sussman developed a “dill-infused chicken soup with herbed matzah ball gnocchi” recipe featuring matzah balls shaped like the Italian potato dumpling and rolled with spinach, parsley and dill. Green herbs are intuitive additives, because they often compliment the flavor of the chicken soup and also reflect the spirit of spring. Sussman recommends ground chicken, ground beef and horseradish as other nontraditional additives.
But not every ingredient works. “There were definitely things that were not winners,” said Fishbein, recalling her own experimentation. “Blueberry matzah balls are hideous. Carrot matzah balls covered with carrot juice were hideous.”
Like the Torah, matzah balls are open to a variety of interpretations and subject to intense debate. Surprisingly, some of Southern California’s top chefs believe the matzah ball is sacred.
“I don’t want to recreate the matzah ball; I think it tastes fine how it is, as long as it has a light texture,” said Suzanne Tracht, executive chef at LA’s Jar chophouse on Beverly Boulevard. “They shouldn’t be too hard. You shouldn’t use them for weapons….The most important part of the matzah ball, since it’s basically a dumpling, is the broth — that’s where it comes out.”
Every year, Tracht holds a Passover seder at her restaurant, and this year she’s making a consommé with lemongrass, galangal and ginger. “We make it so intense that we clarify the broth, as well, so that it has a more rich and intense flavor.”
Todd Aarons, executive chef at the gourmet kosher restaurant Tierra Sur at the Herzog Wine Cellars in Oxnard puts his “stock” in the broth, as well. “I’m a purist. I would play around with the broth first, and I’d probably keep the matzah ball intact.” For his own matzah ball soup, Aarons likes to use duck and chicken bones for a deeper flavor. “When I eat it, though, it doesn’t remind me of my mom’s, which is okay.”
He became convinced of the powerful absorption properties of the matzah ball after his Yemenite wife served regular matzah balls with her Yemenite soup, traditionally made with chicken, beef and exotic herbs, including hawaij, a Yemenite spice mix consisting of cumin, coriander, pepper, cardamom, cloves and turmeric. He likens matzah balls to bread used for dipping. “Every culture has a chicken soup. You can explore all different kinds of chicken soup and throw a matzah ball in, and it would work.”
In fact, the matzah ball is the only Ashkenazi food that has been warmly embraced by Sephardic traditions, especially in Israel. “Sephardic cooking is much more popular in Israel now than Ashkenazi cooking — Israel is a warm country, the ingredients are more suitable for Middle Eastern food,” said Janna Gur, editor-in-chief of Israel’s leading gastronomic magazine, Al HaShulchan, and author of “The Book of New Israeli Food” (Schocken, 2008). “Many recipes make the crossover to Ashkenazi households, but not vice versa, except for matzah ball soup.”
Another (chicken or beef?) bone of contention among chefs and cooks relates to texture: dense or light and fluffy?
Cookbook author and food writer Judy Zeidler, also a bubbe of seven, prefers fluffy matzah balls, hands down. “When I got married, my mother-in-law always made sinkers — matzah balls so hard they sink to the bottom of the pot. I grew up with my mother’s matzah balls. Like clouds, they floated to the top of the soup. My husband thought they were ridiculous, but he thought they were so much easier to eat and so much more flavorful.”
To make matzah balls as fluffy as her mother’s, she recommends separating the yolk and whites and then folding the yolk and matzah meal into egg whites beaten into soft peaks. Seltzer is recommended instead of water to increase fluffiness, and chilling matzah balls plays an important part in determining texture.
“Chilling will make it much easier to roll so you can manipulate them,” said Fishbein. “If you can roll them right at the outset you have a lot of matzah meal in them, and they probably won’t be very fluffy.”
Sussman is the only one interviewed for this article who prefers dense matzah balls, or, as she likes to call them, “matzah balls al dente”, an Italian term to describe pasta that is firm but not overcooked.
But home cooks shouldn’t feel discouraged if they can’t think out of the matzah meal box. “My mother used to make matzah balls from scratch,” said Sussman, “but one year we actually tried the mix and found that it worked quite well and started making them from the mix, not because we couldn’t make it from scratch, but because we liked them.”
Click here for original
When the Israelites rushed out of Egypt, Pharaoh’s men on their heels, they hurriedly bundled their belongings, food included, to carry as much as they could on their backs and donkeys. Seeking to nourish themselves throughout their desert journey to the Promised Land, they rolled together unleavened bread crumbs, eggs and oil to create a round, nutritious finger food. They heated these in water jugs, along with chicken bone scraps, to preserve them and give them flavor. And that’s how matzah ball soup was born.
At least that’s how the matzah ball legend should read. The round dumpling traditionally made of matzah meal, eggs, and some kind of fat is so entrenched in Jewish tradition that its history seems to date back to the Torah itself. The icon of Jewish pop culture, the staple of deli menus, the culinary gem of bubbies worldwide, matzah ball soup is the unofficial symbol of Jewish cuisine, the soup of the one God.
But like many dishes generally regarded as “Jewish foods,” like gefilte fish and cholent, matzah ball soup originated in Eastern Europe. The Yiddish word for matzah balls, “knaidelach,” comes from the German word for dumpling, “knödel.” The matzah ball may very well have been the vanguard Jewish food of its time, an adaptation of the gentile dumpling suited to Passover restrictions and pantries, invented by the Martha Stewart of the shtetl, her (or his?) name now lost in obscurity.
Since then few Jewish chefs, professional and amateur, have dared to tamper with the matzah ball. In that sense, the matzah ball is the “ultra-Orthodox” Jewish food. The most popular recipe for many home cooks today may very well be the one on the matzah meal box. But with the growing sophistication and cross-fertilization of many types of cuisines, that’s changing.
“I think traditional cooks are breaking out; they’re more sophisticated,” said Adeena Sussman, a recipe developer, food writer and cooking instructor based in New York. “Everyone is traveling more and interested in ethnic cuisine. There are a lot of kosher Web sites where you can get kosher gourmet products. Actually, I think Jews who keep Passover strictly are those who are seeking the most innovative ideas because they are those who follow the laws for eight days and are trying to keep their families well-fed and interested for eight days.”
One of the most popular maverick matzah ball soup recipes has been Susie Fishbein’s tri-color matzah ball soup, as featured years ago in her popular “Kosher by Design Entertains” cookbook (Mesorah Publications, 2005) and on “The Today Show” with Katie Couric. The recipe calls for a green maztah ball made with pureed spinach, a yellow matzah ball made with turmeric and a red matzah ball made with tomato paste.
“It was a funky spin on something traditional, and that’s what I do,” said Fishbein from her home in New Jersey. She sought a matzah ball soup that wasn’t only flavorful, but visually appealing and healthful, especially for the children. “I’ve had mothers come up to me in shul and say ‘I only make the green ones, and they’re called ‘Shrek matzah balls,’ and my boys love them.’”
Matzah balls are like a “blank canvas,” ripe with possibilities for adding flavor and color. Last year Sussman developed a “dill-infused chicken soup with herbed matzah ball gnocchi” recipe featuring matzah balls shaped like the Italian potato dumpling and rolled with spinach, parsley and dill. Green herbs are intuitive additives, because they often compliment the flavor of the chicken soup and also reflect the spirit of spring. Sussman recommends ground chicken, ground beef and horseradish as other nontraditional additives.
But not every ingredient works. “There were definitely things that were not winners,” said Fishbein, recalling her own experimentation. “Blueberry matzah balls are hideous. Carrot matzah balls covered with carrot juice were hideous.”
Like the Torah, matzah balls are open to a variety of interpretations and subject to intense debate. Surprisingly, some of Southern California’s top chefs believe the matzah ball is sacred.
“I don’t want to recreate the matzah ball; I think it tastes fine how it is, as long as it has a light texture,” said Suzanne Tracht, executive chef at LA’s Jar chophouse on Beverly Boulevard. “They shouldn’t be too hard. You shouldn’t use them for weapons….The most important part of the matzah ball, since it’s basically a dumpling, is the broth — that’s where it comes out.”
Every year, Tracht holds a Passover seder at her restaurant, and this year she’s making a consommé with lemongrass, galangal and ginger. “We make it so intense that we clarify the broth, as well, so that it has a more rich and intense flavor.”
Todd Aarons, executive chef at the gourmet kosher restaurant Tierra Sur at the Herzog Wine Cellars in Oxnard puts his “stock” in the broth, as well. “I’m a purist. I would play around with the broth first, and I’d probably keep the matzah ball intact.” For his own matzah ball soup, Aarons likes to use duck and chicken bones for a deeper flavor. “When I eat it, though, it doesn’t remind me of my mom’s, which is okay.”
He became convinced of the powerful absorption properties of the matzah ball after his Yemenite wife served regular matzah balls with her Yemenite soup, traditionally made with chicken, beef and exotic herbs, including hawaij, a Yemenite spice mix consisting of cumin, coriander, pepper, cardamom, cloves and turmeric. He likens matzah balls to bread used for dipping. “Every culture has a chicken soup. You can explore all different kinds of chicken soup and throw a matzah ball in, and it would work.”
In fact, the matzah ball is the only Ashkenazi food that has been warmly embraced by Sephardic traditions, especially in Israel. “Sephardic cooking is much more popular in Israel now than Ashkenazi cooking — Israel is a warm country, the ingredients are more suitable for Middle Eastern food,” said Janna Gur, editor-in-chief of Israel’s leading gastronomic magazine, Al HaShulchan, and author of “The Book of New Israeli Food” (Schocken, 2008). “Many recipes make the crossover to Ashkenazi households, but not vice versa, except for matzah ball soup.”
Another (chicken or beef?) bone of contention among chefs and cooks relates to texture: dense or light and fluffy?
Cookbook author and food writer Judy Zeidler, also a bubbe of seven, prefers fluffy matzah balls, hands down. “When I got married, my mother-in-law always made sinkers — matzah balls so hard they sink to the bottom of the pot. I grew up with my mother’s matzah balls. Like clouds, they floated to the top of the soup. My husband thought they were ridiculous, but he thought they were so much easier to eat and so much more flavorful.”
To make matzah balls as fluffy as her mother’s, she recommends separating the yolk and whites and then folding the yolk and matzah meal into egg whites beaten into soft peaks. Seltzer is recommended instead of water to increase fluffiness, and chilling matzah balls plays an important part in determining texture.
“Chilling will make it much easier to roll so you can manipulate them,” said Fishbein. “If you can roll them right at the outset you have a lot of matzah meal in them, and they probably won’t be very fluffy.”
Sussman is the only one interviewed for this article who prefers dense matzah balls, or, as she likes to call them, “matzah balls al dente”, an Italian term to describe pasta that is firm but not overcooked.
But home cooks shouldn’t feel discouraged if they can’t think out of the matzah meal box. “My mother used to make matzah balls from scratch,” said Sussman, “but one year we actually tried the mix and found that it worked quite well and started making them from the mix, not because we couldn’t make it from scratch, but because we liked them.”
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Boteach Pitches Shabbat for All
Jewish Journal; March 4, 2009
Click here for original
Jewish tradition has it that if every single Jew observed two full Sabbaths, the Messiah would arrive. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach’s new initiative, “Turn Friday Night Into Family Night,” might not bring the Messiah, but he hopes that getting Americans to observe a Shabbat-style dinner will be one step toward perfecting America, and ultimately the world.
“Let’s not get them talking about Brangelina and their family. Let’s get them talking about their own family and dreams,” said Boteach at the initiative’s West Coast launch on Feb. 5 at the Beverly Hills home of Sunny Sassoon, CEO of The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.
Boteach, a prolific writer whose most recent book is “The Kosher Sutra,” called Shabbat “the Jewish community’s gift to the American people.” He envisions American families sitting down every Friday night, using a “two-by-two-by-two” formula: two hours “unplugged” from phones or televisions, two topics for family discussion and two guests. The initiative will be publicized through talk shows, public service announcements and celebrity endorsements.
L.A. Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa stopped by to share his belief in the “the power of the meal.” Addressing the mixed crowd of well-dressed Hollywood types, kippah-wearing Jewish leaders and city officials, Villaraigosa related how his single mother made sure to have dinner with her children every night, no matter how hard she worked that day to support them. “She talked to us about her dreams for us and a world for us to grasp.”
Rachel Hunter, the 1990s “It” supermodel, became a supporter of the initiative after Boteach explained it to her at a birthday party for Kerry “Krucial” Brothers, singer Alicia Keys’ songwriter-producer boyfriend.
Standing two feet taller than Boteach, Hunter, a single mother of two teenagers with ex-husband Rod Stewart, is sure to add a shiksa goddess appeal to the Shabbat queen, saying how important it is for parents to give their children undivided attention. “No matter what time of day it is, I sit at the edge of the bed and listen to them.”
Jewish American spiritual guru Marianne Williamson was also on hand at Sassoon’s home to ruminate on the humbling of America amid the current economic crisis and its readiness for a concept of Shabbat to soothe them.
“It’s beyond values,” she said. “The nervous system is hard-wired. We’re moving too fast.” — Orit Arfa, Contributing Writer
Click here for original
Jewish tradition has it that if every single Jew observed two full Sabbaths, the Messiah would arrive. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach’s new initiative, “Turn Friday Night Into Family Night,” might not bring the Messiah, but he hopes that getting Americans to observe a Shabbat-style dinner will be one step toward perfecting America, and ultimately the world.
“Let’s not get them talking about Brangelina and their family. Let’s get them talking about their own family and dreams,” said Boteach at the initiative’s West Coast launch on Feb. 5 at the Beverly Hills home of Sunny Sassoon, CEO of The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.
Boteach, a prolific writer whose most recent book is “The Kosher Sutra,” called Shabbat “the Jewish community’s gift to the American people.” He envisions American families sitting down every Friday night, using a “two-by-two-by-two” formula: two hours “unplugged” from phones or televisions, two topics for family discussion and two guests. The initiative will be publicized through talk shows, public service announcements and celebrity endorsements.
L.A. Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa stopped by to share his belief in the “the power of the meal.” Addressing the mixed crowd of well-dressed Hollywood types, kippah-wearing Jewish leaders and city officials, Villaraigosa related how his single mother made sure to have dinner with her children every night, no matter how hard she worked that day to support them. “She talked to us about her dreams for us and a world for us to grasp.”
Rachel Hunter, the 1990s “It” supermodel, became a supporter of the initiative after Boteach explained it to her at a birthday party for Kerry “Krucial” Brothers, singer Alicia Keys’ songwriter-producer boyfriend.
Standing two feet taller than Boteach, Hunter, a single mother of two teenagers with ex-husband Rod Stewart, is sure to add a shiksa goddess appeal to the Shabbat queen, saying how important it is for parents to give their children undivided attention. “No matter what time of day it is, I sit at the edge of the bed and listen to them.”
Jewish American spiritual guru Marianne Williamson was also on hand at Sassoon’s home to ruminate on the humbling of America amid the current economic crisis and its readiness for a concept of Shabbat to soothe them.
“It’s beyond values,” she said. “The nervous system is hard-wired. We’re moving too fast.” — Orit Arfa, Contributing Writer
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Bashir's Folman Reacts to Oscar Loss
Jewish Journal; February 25, 2009
Click here for original
“Waltz With Bashir” is a movie that expresses filmmaker Ari Folman’s hatred for war. But the run up to the Academy’s announcement for best foreign-language film felt like a war zone of the spirit, with Israeli Oscar dreams crushed by the Japanese.
“I was really hyped and tense. Then it was a drop of adrenaline immediately after the announcement of ‘Departures,’” Folman told The Circuit at the post-Oscar bash at the Beverly Hilton.
He described the exact mood at the Hilton’s International Ballroom, where the Israeli production team — not lucky enough to attend the actual ceremony at the Kodak Theater — watched the Oscars at a viewing banquet held by Jewish philanthropist Daphne Ziman’s Children Uniting Nations and co-sponsored by The Hollywood Reporter, Billboard and 93.5 FM The Beat.
Ziman spread her hope for Zionist victory by reserving several tables for the “Waltz With Bashir” brigade, engaging in hasbara (publicity) by leaving brochures about the film for some 600 guests, including Oscar Nunez (“The Office”), William “Billy” Baldwin, Jane Seymour and Tia Tequila.
The battle was long and drawn out as the best foreign-language film was announced more than two hours into the ceremony.
“It was a total build-up with five categories, then four categories, commercial breaks, sitting here feeling like my heart will jump out of my body,” said Tel Aviv-based animator Neta Holzer, moments after the Japanese bomb fell.
Israeli Consul-General Yaakov Dayan, on hand with consulate staff to provide support, shared the disappointment.
Folman, dashing in a tuxedo, acted like the dignified general as he graciously took time to speak with Israeli reporters, rehashing the same sound bites to give each warring network some individuality, all with the same basic message: “It’s a letdown, but on the other hand, we got so far,” he told them in Hebrew, “that it’s not so bad now.”
He now looks forward to going back to Israel and spending quality time with his family — in real peace. — Orit Arfa, Contributing Writer
Kosher Good Life in Oxnard
Add 10 tables of more than 200 assorted top kosher wines, stir in a buffet of chef Todd Aarons’ gourmet delicacies and simmer in the elegant expanse of the Tierra Sur, a gourmet kosher restaurant in Oxnard, and what do you get? The second annual International Food and Wine Festival hosted by Herzog Wine Cellars on Feb. 18.
The atmosphere was merry yet refined as CEO David Herzog and his nephew, Joseph Herzog, vice president of operations, showcased the best of kosher wines from Spain, Italy, France and California, with an entire hall dedicated to Israeli wines.
Winemakers shared their libations with a crowd of about 200 sprinkled with foodies and wine lovers of all religious shades, members of the Herzog Wine Club, Oxnard Mayor Tom Holden and renowned wine critic Daniel Rogov, who commented on “the increasing level of awareness among both Jewish and non-Jewish wine consumers that there need be no contradiction between fine wine and kosher wine.”
With cigars being hand-rolled in the corner, the evening certainly undid any stereotype that kosher keepers can’t enjoy the good life. — Orit Arfa, Contributing Writer
Click here for original
“Waltz With Bashir” is a movie that expresses filmmaker Ari Folman’s hatred for war. But the run up to the Academy’s announcement for best foreign-language film felt like a war zone of the spirit, with Israeli Oscar dreams crushed by the Japanese.
“I was really hyped and tense. Then it was a drop of adrenaline immediately after the announcement of ‘Departures,’” Folman told The Circuit at the post-Oscar bash at the Beverly Hilton.
He described the exact mood at the Hilton’s International Ballroom, where the Israeli production team — not lucky enough to attend the actual ceremony at the Kodak Theater — watched the Oscars at a viewing banquet held by Jewish philanthropist Daphne Ziman’s Children Uniting Nations and co-sponsored by The Hollywood Reporter, Billboard and 93.5 FM The Beat.
Ziman spread her hope for Zionist victory by reserving several tables for the “Waltz With Bashir” brigade, engaging in hasbara (publicity) by leaving brochures about the film for some 600 guests, including Oscar Nunez (“The Office”), William “Billy” Baldwin, Jane Seymour and Tia Tequila.
The battle was long and drawn out as the best foreign-language film was announced more than two hours into the ceremony.
“It was a total build-up with five categories, then four categories, commercial breaks, sitting here feeling like my heart will jump out of my body,” said Tel Aviv-based animator Neta Holzer, moments after the Japanese bomb fell.
Israeli Consul-General Yaakov Dayan, on hand with consulate staff to provide support, shared the disappointment.
Folman, dashing in a tuxedo, acted like the dignified general as he graciously took time to speak with Israeli reporters, rehashing the same sound bites to give each warring network some individuality, all with the same basic message: “It’s a letdown, but on the other hand, we got so far,” he told them in Hebrew, “that it’s not so bad now.”
He now looks forward to going back to Israel and spending quality time with his family — in real peace. — Orit Arfa, Contributing Writer
Kosher Good Life in Oxnard
Add 10 tables of more than 200 assorted top kosher wines, stir in a buffet of chef Todd Aarons’ gourmet delicacies and simmer in the elegant expanse of the Tierra Sur, a gourmet kosher restaurant in Oxnard, and what do you get? The second annual International Food and Wine Festival hosted by Herzog Wine Cellars on Feb. 18.
The atmosphere was merry yet refined as CEO David Herzog and his nephew, Joseph Herzog, vice president of operations, showcased the best of kosher wines from Spain, Italy, France and California, with an entire hall dedicated to Israeli wines.
Winemakers shared their libations with a crowd of about 200 sprinkled with foodies and wine lovers of all religious shades, members of the Herzog Wine Club, Oxnard Mayor Tom Holden and renowned wine critic Daniel Rogov, who commented on “the increasing level of awareness among both Jewish and non-Jewish wine consumers that there need be no contradiction between fine wine and kosher wine.”
With cigars being hand-rolled in the corner, the evening certainly undid any stereotype that kosher keepers can’t enjoy the good life. — Orit Arfa, Contributing Writer
Monday, January 26, 2009
Working for a Song
Jerusalem Post; January 25, 2009
Click here for original
Songwriter Sheppard Solomon won't be watching the eighth season of American Idol, which is now in full swing - even though the singing contest has gotten him a lot of work.
His latest single, "Feels Like Tonight," performed by American Idol's fifth season finalist Chris Daughtry, reached the top of the charts last year, helping American Idol's most successful rockster clinch the best band award at the American Music Awards.
Solomon has written album tracks for other American Idol winners and finalists: Kelly Clarkson, David Cook and David Archuleta, not to mention artists who made it the "old-fashioned" way, like Britney Spears, Celine Dion, Enrique Iglesias and Paris Hilton.
The singing contest bores the Jewish 39-year-old bachelor, and it reflects his growing disillusionment with the mainstream music business. "It's become more about the wrong things," he says during an interview at his home in the Hollywood Hills. "That's why people don't buy records. They don't feel attached. It's not real. It's more plastic. People like Elton John, Bob Dylan, Sting, Jim Morrison - they were real artists with points of view."
There's another reason people don't buy records: the rise of the Internet. Artists no longer rely on record labels to get their music heard or distributed. Music fans now download their favorite songs or watch videos on YouTube. A songwriter has to produce a genuine radio hit to make a small fortune. "The scope, the range of opportunity is closing in," Solomon says. "You have a lot of people chasing a minimum amount of opportunity. It creates a feeding-frenzy kind of environment. You have 10 records being made that are important and you have 1,000 songwriters writing songs for them."
The New York City native has been writing songs since he was a teenager fronting a rock band. He got his first real songwriting break in 1994 with UK hit single entitled "Just A Step From Heaven," performed by the girl group Eternal. Since then, he's been hustling to stay on top of a business he describes as "political and weird," and often that means lending his melodies and lyrics to manufactured pop stars. "And you don't know where that smash will come, either."
Case in point: "Feels Like Tonight" was first developed in a jam session with Lukasz Gottwald (a.k.a. Dr. Luke, producer of Spears's latest hit, Circus) after working on Paris Hilton's album together. The song lay fallow for several months until they played it to another Swedish hitmaker, Max Martin (also producer for Spears classics, including "Baby One More Time"). Martin further shaped the melody and brought it to the attention of legendary BMG music exec Clive Davis.
"Basically, Clive Davis loved the song and wanted Taylor Hicks to sing it as the winning song for American Idol. They recorded a version of it, but it didn't have the right sound to it. It wasn't convincing. They scrapped that. So six months later they were making the Daughtry record. Clive Davis said we should have him cut it."
EVEN THOUGH he's worked with the biggest names in the industry, Solomon doesn't feel like his career is established.
"Nobody is ever established. It's yes or no. It's a trendy business, like fashion. You always have to be in with the times. Unless you're writing country music - then it doesn't matter," Solomon said.
For now, he has tempered his ambition. "As you get older, you get less infatuated with the rat race. You want the simpler things in life. Being with someone you love. Having a good life. Not running around like a mad person trying to conquer the world."
Seeking fulfillment, depth and a sense of rootedness after working decades in a competitive business that left him feeling tired and empty, Solomon took his first trip to Israel about five years ago and immediately felt a connection. "When you go out in Israel, you don't have to pretend to be something else. You are who you are."
Having gone to Sunday school as a child, he never practiced Judaism seriously. "I'm definitely Jewish and aware of my Jewishness, but I like all religions."
But he felt a sense of belonging in Israel, particularly Tel Aviv, and the simplicity and grittiness of life there charmed him. Now he counts many Israeli ex-pats living in Los Angeles as his good friends. "I need that. I need something removed from my work," he said.
He doesn't have any plans to move to Israel, though. "Last time I went, it was kind of boring. A part of me really loves it. It has a soul to it that's very interesting."
Click here for original
Songwriter Sheppard Solomon won't be watching the eighth season of American Idol, which is now in full swing - even though the singing contest has gotten him a lot of work.
His latest single, "Feels Like Tonight," performed by American Idol's fifth season finalist Chris Daughtry, reached the top of the charts last year, helping American Idol's most successful rockster clinch the best band award at the American Music Awards.
Solomon has written album tracks for other American Idol winners and finalists: Kelly Clarkson, David Cook and David Archuleta, not to mention artists who made it the "old-fashioned" way, like Britney Spears, Celine Dion, Enrique Iglesias and Paris Hilton.
The singing contest bores the Jewish 39-year-old bachelor, and it reflects his growing disillusionment with the mainstream music business. "It's become more about the wrong things," he says during an interview at his home in the Hollywood Hills. "That's why people don't buy records. They don't feel attached. It's not real. It's more plastic. People like Elton John, Bob Dylan, Sting, Jim Morrison - they were real artists with points of view."
There's another reason people don't buy records: the rise of the Internet. Artists no longer rely on record labels to get their music heard or distributed. Music fans now download their favorite songs or watch videos on YouTube. A songwriter has to produce a genuine radio hit to make a small fortune. "The scope, the range of opportunity is closing in," Solomon says. "You have a lot of people chasing a minimum amount of opportunity. It creates a feeding-frenzy kind of environment. You have 10 records being made that are important and you have 1,000 songwriters writing songs for them."
The New York City native has been writing songs since he was a teenager fronting a rock band. He got his first real songwriting break in 1994 with UK hit single entitled "Just A Step From Heaven," performed by the girl group Eternal. Since then, he's been hustling to stay on top of a business he describes as "political and weird," and often that means lending his melodies and lyrics to manufactured pop stars. "And you don't know where that smash will come, either."
Case in point: "Feels Like Tonight" was first developed in a jam session with Lukasz Gottwald (a.k.a. Dr. Luke, producer of Spears's latest hit, Circus) after working on Paris Hilton's album together. The song lay fallow for several months until they played it to another Swedish hitmaker, Max Martin (also producer for Spears classics, including "Baby One More Time"). Martin further shaped the melody and brought it to the attention of legendary BMG music exec Clive Davis.
"Basically, Clive Davis loved the song and wanted Taylor Hicks to sing it as the winning song for American Idol. They recorded a version of it, but it didn't have the right sound to it. It wasn't convincing. They scrapped that. So six months later they were making the Daughtry record. Clive Davis said we should have him cut it."
EVEN THOUGH he's worked with the biggest names in the industry, Solomon doesn't feel like his career is established.
"Nobody is ever established. It's yes or no. It's a trendy business, like fashion. You always have to be in with the times. Unless you're writing country music - then it doesn't matter," Solomon said.
For now, he has tempered his ambition. "As you get older, you get less infatuated with the rat race. You want the simpler things in life. Being with someone you love. Having a good life. Not running around like a mad person trying to conquer the world."
Seeking fulfillment, depth and a sense of rootedness after working decades in a competitive business that left him feeling tired and empty, Solomon took his first trip to Israel about five years ago and immediately felt a connection. "When you go out in Israel, you don't have to pretend to be something else. You are who you are."
Having gone to Sunday school as a child, he never practiced Judaism seriously. "I'm definitely Jewish and aware of my Jewishness, but I like all religions."
But he felt a sense of belonging in Israel, particularly Tel Aviv, and the simplicity and grittiness of life there charmed him. Now he counts many Israeli ex-pats living in Los Angeles as his good friends. "I need that. I need something removed from my work," he said.
He doesn't have any plans to move to Israel, though. "Last time I went, it was kind of boring. A part of me really loves it. It has a soul to it that's very interesting."
Monday, December 22, 2008
Circumcision: The Ed Hardy Way [VIDEO]
The Jewish Journal: December 17, 2008
Click here for original and video!
Adam Saaks doesn't consider himself particularly religious, except when it comes to custom "cuTour," his term for circumcising T-shirts. For Saaks, custom designing T-shirts by nipping and tucking the hems, cutting and lacing-up the sides, and netting and looping the front -- using only scissors and tweezers -- isn't a mere fashion upgrade, but a religious experience.
Saaks is the exclusive T-shirt mohel (circumciser) for the fashion lines of French designer Christian Audigier. He specializes in Ed Hardy, the line incorporating designs of American tattoo artist Don Ed Hardy. The T-shirts are known for their colorful skulls, hearts, crossbones and flowers intertwined with messages like "Love Kills Slowly" and "Death or Glory." They are a status symbol of "coolness" for young and old alike.
Saaks travels the world, making appearances at fashion shows, nightclubs and department stores, eight-inch chrome blades in hand, ready to transform -- in a matter of minutes -- already eye-catching, provocative T-shirts into sexualized form-fitted tops and dresses.
The final products might make the parents of any nice Jewish girl blush, even though Saaks counts among his devoted clients Jewish women -- and their mothers.
"I went to Hebrew school on Saturday or Sunday -- I don't remember -- and became a skateboarder and outcast," Saaks said.
The Journal met with the 36-year-old artist at the flagship, multiroomed Christian Audigier store on the corner of Melrose and Fairfax avenues, a day before his trip to Egypt for the wedding of former Spice Girl Melanie Brown. Why not make a stop in Israel?
"I don't have time," he said, although it's likely he'd be a big hit at the Ed Hardy store in Tel Aviv.
Saaks' assimilation was preceded by that of his grandfather, who shortened the family name from "Isaaks" to "Saaks" when he came to America from Romania. The change was prophetic: Saaks' girlfriend, a Croation-Swedish model, pointed out that sax means "scissors" in Swedish.
By the time his older siblings celebrated their bar mitzvahs, his parents grew less strict with tradition, not that he cared much.
Lately, though, he has developed a renewed Jewish pride, thanks in part to his belated bar mitzvah in Paris last year by a rabbi he met at a fashion showroom.
"This rabbi told me, 'You weren't bar mitzvahed? We'll bar mitzvah you now!' He put those straps on my arm and the box on my forehead, and I recited stuff."
Normally he wears a Star of David consisting of a white gold chain, a white gold star and a charm of white platinum scissors studded with diamonds.
A wardrobe stylist for 10 years before moving to Los Angeles in 2001, Saaks said his talent was revealed to him at a trade show in Las Vegas in 2001. While he was helping a friend launch a T-shirt line, "one girl passing by wanted a shirt cut like something on the rack. I pulled her aside, did two cuts and drew a crowd of 50 people. They didn't leave until I finished the shirt."
Now he charges anywhere from $350 for a single brit milah (circumcision) to $5,000 for a booked event. His designs are sold off the rack at the Melrose store, but there is nothing like getting the T-shirt personally sliced on the wearer. All the wearer needs is a little faith.
Saaks' promotional tours have surely helped the Ed Hardy line get more exposure (or shall we say, "overexposure"). Billboards dominate Los Angeles, celebrities prance around town wearing Audigier designs, but there may be another Jewish twist to Audigier's success.
"We have mezuzahs all over the place. Christian has them on his house, on his office," Saaks said, referring to the ritual boxes placed on doorposts of Jewish homes and businesses enclosing the sacred Jewish prayer to love God. "It's not a Jewish-run company at all, but his mentors are pretty religious, people he grew up with, so they're always guarding him."
Indeed, all of the doors at the store had mezuzahs on them -- but the cheap, uninspiring plastic variety the sofer (scribe) usually gives for free with the scroll. Audigier, with the help of Saaks and his Jewish friends, might want to think about a mezuzah line -- minus the skulls and crossbones, but preserving the florals and the message, "love."
This would certainly promote another mitzvah (commandment), in addition to circumcision -- the Hardy way.
Click here for original and video!
Adam Saaks doesn't consider himself particularly religious, except when it comes to custom "cuTour," his term for circumcising T-shirts. For Saaks, custom designing T-shirts by nipping and tucking the hems, cutting and lacing-up the sides, and netting and looping the front -- using only scissors and tweezers -- isn't a mere fashion upgrade, but a religious experience.
Saaks is the exclusive T-shirt mohel (circumciser) for the fashion lines of French designer Christian Audigier. He specializes in Ed Hardy, the line incorporating designs of American tattoo artist Don Ed Hardy. The T-shirts are known for their colorful skulls, hearts, crossbones and flowers intertwined with messages like "Love Kills Slowly" and "Death or Glory." They are a status symbol of "coolness" for young and old alike.
Saaks travels the world, making appearances at fashion shows, nightclubs and department stores, eight-inch chrome blades in hand, ready to transform -- in a matter of minutes -- already eye-catching, provocative T-shirts into sexualized form-fitted tops and dresses.
The final products might make the parents of any nice Jewish girl blush, even though Saaks counts among his devoted clients Jewish women -- and their mothers.
"I went to Hebrew school on Saturday or Sunday -- I don't remember -- and became a skateboarder and outcast," Saaks said.
The Journal met with the 36-year-old artist at the flagship, multiroomed Christian Audigier store on the corner of Melrose and Fairfax avenues, a day before his trip to Egypt for the wedding of former Spice Girl Melanie Brown. Why not make a stop in Israel?
"I don't have time," he said, although it's likely he'd be a big hit at the Ed Hardy store in Tel Aviv.
Saaks' assimilation was preceded by that of his grandfather, who shortened the family name from "Isaaks" to "Saaks" when he came to America from Romania. The change was prophetic: Saaks' girlfriend, a Croation-Swedish model, pointed out that sax means "scissors" in Swedish.
By the time his older siblings celebrated their bar mitzvahs, his parents grew less strict with tradition, not that he cared much.
Lately, though, he has developed a renewed Jewish pride, thanks in part to his belated bar mitzvah in Paris last year by a rabbi he met at a fashion showroom.
"This rabbi told me, 'You weren't bar mitzvahed? We'll bar mitzvah you now!' He put those straps on my arm and the box on my forehead, and I recited stuff."
Normally he wears a Star of David consisting of a white gold chain, a white gold star and a charm of white platinum scissors studded with diamonds.
A wardrobe stylist for 10 years before moving to Los Angeles in 2001, Saaks said his talent was revealed to him at a trade show in Las Vegas in 2001. While he was helping a friend launch a T-shirt line, "one girl passing by wanted a shirt cut like something on the rack. I pulled her aside, did two cuts and drew a crowd of 50 people. They didn't leave until I finished the shirt."
Now he charges anywhere from $350 for a single brit milah (circumcision) to $5,000 for a booked event. His designs are sold off the rack at the Melrose store, but there is nothing like getting the T-shirt personally sliced on the wearer. All the wearer needs is a little faith.
Saaks' promotional tours have surely helped the Ed Hardy line get more exposure (or shall we say, "overexposure"). Billboards dominate Los Angeles, celebrities prance around town wearing Audigier designs, but there may be another Jewish twist to Audigier's success.
"We have mezuzahs all over the place. Christian has them on his house, on his office," Saaks said, referring to the ritual boxes placed on doorposts of Jewish homes and businesses enclosing the sacred Jewish prayer to love God. "It's not a Jewish-run company at all, but his mentors are pretty religious, people he grew up with, so they're always guarding him."
Indeed, all of the doors at the store had mezuzahs on them -- but the cheap, uninspiring plastic variety the sofer (scribe) usually gives for free with the scroll. Audigier, with the help of Saaks and his Jewish friends, might want to think about a mezuzah line -- minus the skulls and crossbones, but preserving the florals and the message, "love."
This would certainly promote another mitzvah (commandment), in addition to circumcision -- the Hardy way.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Made in China
Jerusalem Post, Up Front; October 3, 2008
Click here for original
Just days after the Olympics' closing ceremony in Beijing, businessman Sheldon Adelson shows he's reaching for the tourism gold in China. The writer was a guest of the Venetian Macao Resort Hotel.
I was first introduced to Macao, like many other Israelis, through the popular reality show following psychic Uri Geller's quest to find an Israeli to carry his spoon-bending legacy. One of the prizes: a show in "Asia's Las Vegas," Macao, a special administrative region in China where gambling is legal.
What does Macao have to do with Israel? The man behind the transformation of the area is American Jewish multibillionaire Sheldon Adelson, CEO of the publicly- traded Las Vegas Sands, also a lover of Israel.
Geller's successor, Lior Suchard, has yet to bend spoons (or chopsticks) in Macao. He's focusing on Europe and the US first, says his manager, Yaron Ofer.
But my curiosity about Macao remained. As a Los Angeles native, I fondly recall traveling in my family's motor-home to Las Vegas as a child and returning there as soon as I turned 21. So I was delighted when The Venetian Macao Resort Hotel welcomed me as the lone Israeli correspondent for an Asian press tour of the opening of the Four Seasons Hotel.
My host told me in advance that Macao is first and foremost an Asian destination, catering to Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Thais, Filipinos, Indians, Malaysians, etc. With half of the world's population within a five-hour plane ride, who needs to market to seven million Israelis? My first instinct upon stepping off the hour-long ferry from Hong Kong (following an 11-hour flight from Tel Aviv) was to compare and contrast to Sin City.
The weather was hot, but unlike the Nevada desert, very humid. I noticed many square, discolored pastel towers - the kind that dominate the Hong Kong skyline - but no gargantuan Vegas-style hotels, until I passed the Sands, a shiny black, circular edifice. Only the Wynn Macao, a copycat of the curved, metallic resort owned by another Jewish Vegas titan, Steve Wynn, could compete in architectural elegance.
Located on the Macao peninsula jutting out from southern China, the Sands opened in 2004 as an interim project to satisfy Adelson's China ambitions while the foundations were being laid for The Venetian Macao. He hit the jackpot. The Sands returned its $265 million investment in less than a year. Since opening a year ago, The Venetian has welcomed more than 20 million visitors.
I stood outside The Venetian, focused on the Italian facades and imagined myself not in Venice, but on Las Vegas Boulevard. The enlarged version of the Vegas original is the cornerstone of the "Cotai Strip," not an organically grown "strip" but a registered trademark that refers to all Sands properties being built along the 1.2 kilometer stretch of drained marshland connecting the islands of Taipa and Coloane.
Once complete in 2011, the Cotai Strip will include 14 popular hotel brands, owned by the Las Vegas Sands but operated by the respective hotels. A Vegas-style skyline is gradually emerging with the current construction of the Shangri-la, Sheraton, St. Regis and Traders hotels. Costing $13 billion, the Cotai Strip is undoubtedly the largest commercial tourism project ever undertaken.
The Venetian has already transformed Macao into the most attractive gaming center in Asia, but Adelson's vision goes far beyond casinos. He envisions Macao, like Vegas, as a center for business and entertainment.
Like its Vegas counterpart, The Venetian Macao was conceived as an integrated resort. Suites are designed like mini-apartments. In Macao, casinos account for 5 percent of the property; convention and exhibition space, 10%. A 15,000-seat arena has already hosted pop icons Beyonce and Celine Dion, with Avril Lavigne coming up. The press tour included the premiere of Asia's first permanent Cirque De Soleil, Zaia, a spectacular show under normal circumstances but somewhat of a yawn on the heels of the Olympics opening ceremonies.
AS I WANDERED alone through The Venetian casino on my first night, my personal fantasies of Vegas-style fun, however, begin to slip away. Slots don't flash jackpot numbers amid sounds of coins clanking. No scantily clad cocktail waitresses strut by tables, doling out free booze. Macao apparently doesn't need such casino gimmicks to lure players. Gambling is a Chinese obsession. Players sat at the tables, mostly baccarat, looking focused and serious.
I scoured the tables for blackjack, my favorite, but I heard absolutely no English and players hardly made eye contact with me. While aces and face cards are a universal language, I couldn't help but feel somewhat deaf and mute and I always like to schmooze while I play. There's nothing like the communal cheer when the dealer busts or the communal moan when the dealer hits 21. I call it quits before I start.
But the Zionist in me was comforted as I watched people's chips dwindle. Without their knowing it, Asians are indirectly contributing to Israel. Macao initiatives, gambling revenues included, have made Adelson the third richest man in the US, according to Forbes. Israel and Jewish causes have benefitted from his riches. Adelson is a key contributor to Taglit-birthright israel, Yad Vashem and other educational institutions in Israel and Las Vegas.
Still, I went to sleep in my fluffy bed missing the true Las Vegas vibe, so for breakfast I took comfort in the Starbucks near the lobby. Among the chicken and pork pies, I chose a chocolate croissant, which turned out, to my dismay, hard and chewy.
Starbucks isn't the only American staple in Macao. The Venetian's Grande Canal Shoppes is an American capitalistic wonderland. With ceilings mimicking a sky, it's among the largest malls I've ever seen, loaded with familiar brand names. Clowns and gondoliers provided family entertainment. At the soy-smelling food court, families looked happy eating Chinese fast food, shopping bags in tow. While eager for Asian cuisine, I felt overwhelmed by the myriad of pork, oyster, clam and beef noodle offerings, so I went for the safe noodle: spaghetti.
If I thought The Venetian's Grand Canal Shoppes were impressive, the adjoining Shoppes at the new Four Seasons hotel made them look like a shouk. The high-end indoor mall could easily outdo Rodeo Drive with its number of designer shops. Only the best of the best for Asia's new rich and rising middle-class: Dior, Fendi, Prada, you name it. Walking across the fresh marble adorned with mosaics, I felt the poorest I ever have - in communist China.
BUT I DIDN'T come to Macao to enjoy America, right? I hoped a city tour would offer me more authentic Chinese experiences, not that Macao is the ideal place for them. It was a Portuguese colony until 1999. Pink pastel Portuguese villas alongside the gritty towers testify to its European roots.
In the city center, small roads and alleys lead out of a rather dreary European-style piazza. Popular retail brands like Esprit and Levis have set up shop alongside modest storefronts. An outdoor market sells discount clothing. Street vendors sell Chinese noodles and what look like fresh pork rinds. My tour guide, Sunny Pou, a Macao native, points to many locked metal doors. The new industry has led to a rise in rent, causing some merchants to close or move.
In his broken English, Pou says some locals bemoan Macao's modernization, while others recognize its blessings, particularly more jobs. The Venetian has generated some 12,000. A "back of the house" tour of The Venetian reveals a mini-town for its "team members," equipped with a recreation center, a 7-11 and McDonald's (for that Big Mac-ao). As part of the formal press tour, the Las Vegas Sands unveiled plans for the Adelson Advanced Education Center at the University of Macau (the Portuguese spelled it with a "u") to groom managers in non-gaming businesses.
With all these material developments, however, China's "Sin City" doesn't lack spirituality. Macao's population is split Buddhist and Catholic, and the city's centuries-old Catholic churches and Buddhist temples appeared just as bustling as the casinos.
At night, Macao lights up. With the exception of the American brands, the hotels try too hard. The Chinese art of feng shui, apparently, doesn't apply to exteriors. Some are cluttered with bulbs flashing in primary colors. I'm drawn to the Grand Lisboa, a large hotel designed like an electrified lotus, the symbol of Macao. It is owned by businessman Stanley Ho, who monopolized gaming in Macao before it opened to foreign investors.
Tacky crystal beads dangled from the ceilings amid cigarette smoke. The players appeared scruffier than those at The Venetian. I immediately understood the appeal of Vegas imports: They offer spaciousness, refinement and American-style service. When three women in studded bras and thongs came out dancing at a lounge bar, I longed to return to the cleaner-cut Venetian.
The next morning my hunger for friendly Asian cuisine was finally satisfied at the Bambu buffet. Designed according to feng shui with comfortable booths and bamboo decor, the buffet served made-to-order eggs alongside a delicious choice of sushi, dim sum, miso soup, noodles, fruit and scrumptious croissants. It was a bona fide blend of Asia and Vegas.
Finally, the media events kicked off, and I was transported from Vegas to Hollywood. At the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the posh Four Seasons hotel, Adelson, 75 (who suffers from peripheral neuropathy that impairs his ability to walk), leaned on his Israeli wife, Dr. Miriam Adelson, as he cut the ribbon. He might as well have been Paris Hilton from the way the Asian paparazzi shoved me to get a good shot. Unfortunately, I had to catch a plane before red carpet events inaugurated the hotel with local celebs.
At the press conference over lunch, I asked Adelson if the Cotai Strip intends to attract Europeans and Americans.
"There's another country you forgot to mention: Russia," he answered while being simultaneously translated into Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese and Korean. "The Russian market is a very big market, and we have reason to believe that we're going to attract Russians. It's closer for Eastern Europeans to come to Macao than it is to go to Las Vegas. For England, I would say it's probably equidistant... There are a lot of markets to which Macao is as equally attractive as Las Vegas."
But as an Israeli-American, I often felt like the alienated Scarlett Johansson character in the film Lost in Translation, leading me to believe that the Western traveler would best enjoy Macao as part of a business trip or broader tour to Asia, with companions, good guides and a healthy budget.
Or I have another idea. Adelson should create a new hotel in Vegas, The Chinesian, to allow the Westerner to experience the best of China in America, because he's doing a mind-bending job bringing the best of America (well, I guess that's debatable) to the Far East.
Click here for original
Just days after the Olympics' closing ceremony in Beijing, businessman Sheldon Adelson shows he's reaching for the tourism gold in China. The writer was a guest of the Venetian Macao Resort Hotel.
I was first introduced to Macao, like many other Israelis, through the popular reality show following psychic Uri Geller's quest to find an Israeli to carry his spoon-bending legacy. One of the prizes: a show in "Asia's Las Vegas," Macao, a special administrative region in China where gambling is legal.
What does Macao have to do with Israel? The man behind the transformation of the area is American Jewish multibillionaire Sheldon Adelson, CEO of the publicly- traded Las Vegas Sands, also a lover of Israel.
Geller's successor, Lior Suchard, has yet to bend spoons (or chopsticks) in Macao. He's focusing on Europe and the US first, says his manager, Yaron Ofer.
But my curiosity about Macao remained. As a Los Angeles native, I fondly recall traveling in my family's motor-home to Las Vegas as a child and returning there as soon as I turned 21. So I was delighted when The Venetian Macao Resort Hotel welcomed me as the lone Israeli correspondent for an Asian press tour of the opening of the Four Seasons Hotel.
My host told me in advance that Macao is first and foremost an Asian destination, catering to Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, Thais, Filipinos, Indians, Malaysians, etc. With half of the world's population within a five-hour plane ride, who needs to market to seven million Israelis? My first instinct upon stepping off the hour-long ferry from Hong Kong (following an 11-hour flight from Tel Aviv) was to compare and contrast to Sin City.
The weather was hot, but unlike the Nevada desert, very humid. I noticed many square, discolored pastel towers - the kind that dominate the Hong Kong skyline - but no gargantuan Vegas-style hotels, until I passed the Sands, a shiny black, circular edifice. Only the Wynn Macao, a copycat of the curved, metallic resort owned by another Jewish Vegas titan, Steve Wynn, could compete in architectural elegance.
Located on the Macao peninsula jutting out from southern China, the Sands opened in 2004 as an interim project to satisfy Adelson's China ambitions while the foundations were being laid for The Venetian Macao. He hit the jackpot. The Sands returned its $265 million investment in less than a year. Since opening a year ago, The Venetian has welcomed more than 20 million visitors.
I stood outside The Venetian, focused on the Italian facades and imagined myself not in Venice, but on Las Vegas Boulevard. The enlarged version of the Vegas original is the cornerstone of the "Cotai Strip," not an organically grown "strip" but a registered trademark that refers to all Sands properties being built along the 1.2 kilometer stretch of drained marshland connecting the islands of Taipa and Coloane.
Once complete in 2011, the Cotai Strip will include 14 popular hotel brands, owned by the Las Vegas Sands but operated by the respective hotels. A Vegas-style skyline is gradually emerging with the current construction of the Shangri-la, Sheraton, St. Regis and Traders hotels. Costing $13 billion, the Cotai Strip is undoubtedly the largest commercial tourism project ever undertaken.
The Venetian has already transformed Macao into the most attractive gaming center in Asia, but Adelson's vision goes far beyond casinos. He envisions Macao, like Vegas, as a center for business and entertainment.
Like its Vegas counterpart, The Venetian Macao was conceived as an integrated resort. Suites are designed like mini-apartments. In Macao, casinos account for 5 percent of the property; convention and exhibition space, 10%. A 15,000-seat arena has already hosted pop icons Beyonce and Celine Dion, with Avril Lavigne coming up. The press tour included the premiere of Asia's first permanent Cirque De Soleil, Zaia, a spectacular show under normal circumstances but somewhat of a yawn on the heels of the Olympics opening ceremonies.
AS I WANDERED alone through The Venetian casino on my first night, my personal fantasies of Vegas-style fun, however, begin to slip away. Slots don't flash jackpot numbers amid sounds of coins clanking. No scantily clad cocktail waitresses strut by tables, doling out free booze. Macao apparently doesn't need such casino gimmicks to lure players. Gambling is a Chinese obsession. Players sat at the tables, mostly baccarat, looking focused and serious.
I scoured the tables for blackjack, my favorite, but I heard absolutely no English and players hardly made eye contact with me. While aces and face cards are a universal language, I couldn't help but feel somewhat deaf and mute and I always like to schmooze while I play. There's nothing like the communal cheer when the dealer busts or the communal moan when the dealer hits 21. I call it quits before I start.
But the Zionist in me was comforted as I watched people's chips dwindle. Without their knowing it, Asians are indirectly contributing to Israel. Macao initiatives, gambling revenues included, have made Adelson the third richest man in the US, according to Forbes. Israel and Jewish causes have benefitted from his riches. Adelson is a key contributor to Taglit-birthright israel, Yad Vashem and other educational institutions in Israel and Las Vegas.
Still, I went to sleep in my fluffy bed missing the true Las Vegas vibe, so for breakfast I took comfort in the Starbucks near the lobby. Among the chicken and pork pies, I chose a chocolate croissant, which turned out, to my dismay, hard and chewy.
Starbucks isn't the only American staple in Macao. The Venetian's Grande Canal Shoppes is an American capitalistic wonderland. With ceilings mimicking a sky, it's among the largest malls I've ever seen, loaded with familiar brand names. Clowns and gondoliers provided family entertainment. At the soy-smelling food court, families looked happy eating Chinese fast food, shopping bags in tow. While eager for Asian cuisine, I felt overwhelmed by the myriad of pork, oyster, clam and beef noodle offerings, so I went for the safe noodle: spaghetti.
If I thought The Venetian's Grand Canal Shoppes were impressive, the adjoining Shoppes at the new Four Seasons hotel made them look like a shouk. The high-end indoor mall could easily outdo Rodeo Drive with its number of designer shops. Only the best of the best for Asia's new rich and rising middle-class: Dior, Fendi, Prada, you name it. Walking across the fresh marble adorned with mosaics, I felt the poorest I ever have - in communist China.
BUT I DIDN'T come to Macao to enjoy America, right? I hoped a city tour would offer me more authentic Chinese experiences, not that Macao is the ideal place for them. It was a Portuguese colony until 1999. Pink pastel Portuguese villas alongside the gritty towers testify to its European roots.
In the city center, small roads and alleys lead out of a rather dreary European-style piazza. Popular retail brands like Esprit and Levis have set up shop alongside modest storefronts. An outdoor market sells discount clothing. Street vendors sell Chinese noodles and what look like fresh pork rinds. My tour guide, Sunny Pou, a Macao native, points to many locked metal doors. The new industry has led to a rise in rent, causing some merchants to close or move.
In his broken English, Pou says some locals bemoan Macao's modernization, while others recognize its blessings, particularly more jobs. The Venetian has generated some 12,000. A "back of the house" tour of The Venetian reveals a mini-town for its "team members," equipped with a recreation center, a 7-11 and McDonald's (for that Big Mac-ao). As part of the formal press tour, the Las Vegas Sands unveiled plans for the Adelson Advanced Education Center at the University of Macau (the Portuguese spelled it with a "u") to groom managers in non-gaming businesses.
With all these material developments, however, China's "Sin City" doesn't lack spirituality. Macao's population is split Buddhist and Catholic, and the city's centuries-old Catholic churches and Buddhist temples appeared just as bustling as the casinos.
At night, Macao lights up. With the exception of the American brands, the hotels try too hard. The Chinese art of feng shui, apparently, doesn't apply to exteriors. Some are cluttered with bulbs flashing in primary colors. I'm drawn to the Grand Lisboa, a large hotel designed like an electrified lotus, the symbol of Macao. It is owned by businessman Stanley Ho, who monopolized gaming in Macao before it opened to foreign investors.
Tacky crystal beads dangled from the ceilings amid cigarette smoke. The players appeared scruffier than those at The Venetian. I immediately understood the appeal of Vegas imports: They offer spaciousness, refinement and American-style service. When three women in studded bras and thongs came out dancing at a lounge bar, I longed to return to the cleaner-cut Venetian.
The next morning my hunger for friendly Asian cuisine was finally satisfied at the Bambu buffet. Designed according to feng shui with comfortable booths and bamboo decor, the buffet served made-to-order eggs alongside a delicious choice of sushi, dim sum, miso soup, noodles, fruit and scrumptious croissants. It was a bona fide blend of Asia and Vegas.
Finally, the media events kicked off, and I was transported from Vegas to Hollywood. At the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the posh Four Seasons hotel, Adelson, 75 (who suffers from peripheral neuropathy that impairs his ability to walk), leaned on his Israeli wife, Dr. Miriam Adelson, as he cut the ribbon. He might as well have been Paris Hilton from the way the Asian paparazzi shoved me to get a good shot. Unfortunately, I had to catch a plane before red carpet events inaugurated the hotel with local celebs.
At the press conference over lunch, I asked Adelson if the Cotai Strip intends to attract Europeans and Americans.
"There's another country you forgot to mention: Russia," he answered while being simultaneously translated into Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese and Korean. "The Russian market is a very big market, and we have reason to believe that we're going to attract Russians. It's closer for Eastern Europeans to come to Macao than it is to go to Las Vegas. For England, I would say it's probably equidistant... There are a lot of markets to which Macao is as equally attractive as Las Vegas."
But as an Israeli-American, I often felt like the alienated Scarlett Johansson character in the film Lost in Translation, leading me to believe that the Western traveler would best enjoy Macao as part of a business trip or broader tour to Asia, with companions, good guides and a healthy budget.
Or I have another idea. Adelson should create a new hotel in Vegas, The Chinesian, to allow the Westerner to experience the best of China in America, because he's doing a mind-bending job bringing the best of America (well, I guess that's debatable) to the Far East.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Go ahead, gogle me
Jewish Journal; July 30, 2008
Click here for original
If someone's life is not worth at least one page of Google search results, does that mean he hasn't accomplished or written anything of enough import to be broadcast online?
I'd like to introduce a new verb to the dating lexicon: "Gogle," a combination of the words Google and "ogle."
One online dictionary defines "oglers" as those who ". . . look at especially with greedy or interested attention."
"Gogle" means to look up a person you want to date with greedy or interested attention using the popular search engine, Google.
I have been guilty of gogling, along with millions of other singles. Whenever I meet a guy, I always try to request a business card so I can get his last name. If I meet a guy online, I deduce his last name from his e-mail address. Then I punch it in Google to find out: Where does he work? What is his background? Has he published anything?
Unless the guy is a fellow writer or journalist, or unless he is semifamous, the search queries usually don't turn up results. At best, his name might be listed in a company Web site profile or some college club he belonged to years ago.
If someone's life is not worth at least one page of Google search results, does that mean he hasn't accomplished or written anything of enough import to be broadcast online? Does he lack ambition, achievement or creative output?
Then again, sometimes I'm relieved when the prospective date doesn't show up on Google. I cannot develop any preconceived notions about the man, and I begin from scratch in getting to know him. Google search results don't really reveal anything about a man's character -- and my deeper self cautions me against judging a man based on his outward accomplishments alone.
And what about men who gogle me? They come up with all kinds of good stuff -- much of it information I don't necessarily want them to know before they get to know me personally. I guess this is occupational hazard for someone who writes this kind of column.
A cursory reading of Google headlines that come up under my name might lead guys to conclude the following: I am a right-wing fanatical Zionist, I'm tired of Israeli men and I have 10 rules for men who date me. In part, I have a blogger to thank for this -- his colorful commentary and reposts of my most recent single columns always get ranked high, a fact of which he is proud.
Some search results seem completely random. For example, in my most recent top Google five, I appear as a writer for a neo-Zionist site that published my politically oriented blogs only three times, despite the fact that I haven't written for them in about a year.
I spoke with a Google spokesman about how the rankings work and to see if there is any way to control them. Google, as it turns out, is a cold, heartless machine.
"Google uses more than 200 different signals to determine relevancy and ranking of search results," I was told. "These include number of links, authority of a page [for example number of links posting to a page], the number of times key word appears on Web site."
The spokesperson asked not to be named; he probably didn't want to risk being gogled. But I did (revenge!) -- from what I gather he's a nice Jewish boy from California.
Google, apparently, doesn't care whose dating life it hurts.
"It's completely algorithmic. There is no human control on this so we don't have people deciding which Web site appears where," he said.
To influence the information that comes up on a Google search, he suggested I add more content that will be indexed by Google or, alternatively, contact the Web site posting information about me.
Fortunately, my own personal Web site still gets ranked No. 1 -- but what about the others that gossip about me or reprint my outdated thoughts?
Google makes some exceptions (so you know there is some human control). If a Web site publishes personally identifiable information about someone (such as a credit card or Social Security number), it will remove that page.
I guess whatever singles column or article I willingly post online is fair game. My articles, singles columns in particular, run the risk of being immortalized on the Internet.
This leads me to wonder if single men and women should come up with Google etiquette standards. Should we tell our date in advance that we have gogled him or her? Sometimes I feel like telling a date: "OK, tell me what you already know about me, and let's go from there."
Is it better to admit we've researched one another, or to pretend we haven't? Or maybe we should implement a rule that says: Daters shall not gogle a prospective date to preserve a sense of mystery and privacy.
I don't see that happening. Gogle has become just another form of ogling. It's just way too tempting.
Click here for original
If someone's life is not worth at least one page of Google search results, does that mean he hasn't accomplished or written anything of enough import to be broadcast online?
I'd like to introduce a new verb to the dating lexicon: "Gogle," a combination of the words Google and "ogle."
One online dictionary defines "oglers" as those who ". . . look at especially with greedy or interested attention."
"Gogle" means to look up a person you want to date with greedy or interested attention using the popular search engine, Google.
I have been guilty of gogling, along with millions of other singles. Whenever I meet a guy, I always try to request a business card so I can get his last name. If I meet a guy online, I deduce his last name from his e-mail address. Then I punch it in Google to find out: Where does he work? What is his background? Has he published anything?
Unless the guy is a fellow writer or journalist, or unless he is semifamous, the search queries usually don't turn up results. At best, his name might be listed in a company Web site profile or some college club he belonged to years ago.
If someone's life is not worth at least one page of Google search results, does that mean he hasn't accomplished or written anything of enough import to be broadcast online? Does he lack ambition, achievement or creative output?
Then again, sometimes I'm relieved when the prospective date doesn't show up on Google. I cannot develop any preconceived notions about the man, and I begin from scratch in getting to know him. Google search results don't really reveal anything about a man's character -- and my deeper self cautions me against judging a man based on his outward accomplishments alone.
And what about men who gogle me? They come up with all kinds of good stuff -- much of it information I don't necessarily want them to know before they get to know me personally. I guess this is occupational hazard for someone who writes this kind of column.
A cursory reading of Google headlines that come up under my name might lead guys to conclude the following: I am a right-wing fanatical Zionist, I'm tired of Israeli men and I have 10 rules for men who date me. In part, I have a blogger to thank for this -- his colorful commentary and reposts of my most recent single columns always get ranked high, a fact of which he is proud.
Some search results seem completely random. For example, in my most recent top Google five, I appear as a writer for a neo-Zionist site that published my politically oriented blogs only three times, despite the fact that I haven't written for them in about a year.
I spoke with a Google spokesman about how the rankings work and to see if there is any way to control them. Google, as it turns out, is a cold, heartless machine.
"Google uses more than 200 different signals to determine relevancy and ranking of search results," I was told. "These include number of links, authority of a page [for example number of links posting to a page], the number of times key word appears on Web site."
The spokesperson asked not to be named; he probably didn't want to risk being gogled. But I did (revenge!) -- from what I gather he's a nice Jewish boy from California.
Google, apparently, doesn't care whose dating life it hurts.
"It's completely algorithmic. There is no human control on this so we don't have people deciding which Web site appears where," he said.
To influence the information that comes up on a Google search, he suggested I add more content that will be indexed by Google or, alternatively, contact the Web site posting information about me.
Fortunately, my own personal Web site still gets ranked No. 1 -- but what about the others that gossip about me or reprint my outdated thoughts?
Google makes some exceptions (so you know there is some human control). If a Web site publishes personally identifiable information about someone (such as a credit card or Social Security number), it will remove that page.
I guess whatever singles column or article I willingly post online is fair game. My articles, singles columns in particular, run the risk of being immortalized on the Internet.
This leads me to wonder if single men and women should come up with Google etiquette standards. Should we tell our date in advance that we have gogled him or her? Sometimes I feel like telling a date: "OK, tell me what you already know about me, and let's go from there."
Is it better to admit we've researched one another, or to pretend we haven't? Or maybe we should implement a rule that says: Daters shall not gogle a prospective date to preserve a sense of mystery and privacy.
I don't see that happening. Gogle has become just another form of ogling. It's just way too tempting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
