The Jose Hess
Diamond
Engagement
Ring.
0-4
Bud's Wiser
Drink up, Jews! Beer has been on our menu for ages.
ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM ASSOCIATE EDITOR
4C's; Cut, Color, Clarity and
Carat Weight - Your guide
to dic mond quality.
lir! lli(iiirc Si Ht . (' 1919
30400 Telegraph Road
Suite 134
Bingham Farms
ANNETTE'S
UNI UE BOUTI UE
AS cialti Sho ie Caterin to Women's Intimate F ashion Needs
Q: Growing up, I heard a lot of
stories about European anti-Semi-
tism. Although I guess anything is
possible, I always found it hard to
believe one thing I heard, that Jews
once were forbidden to marry.
Could it be true?
A: It certainly is true, and it
occurred in 18th-century Aus-
tria-Hungary.
In 1726-27, Holy Roman Em-
peror Charles VI introduced
laws to control the size of the
Jewish population in the
provinces of Bohemia, Moravia
and Silesia. The laws were
called Familiantengesetze ("Fa-
miliants laws"). They fixed the
number of Jewish families that
could exist in each of the three
above-mentioned provinces. All
told, it was about 13,600.
According to the system, no
Jew could marry and start a
family unless he had a "family
number." Such numbers were
assigned to the heads of fami-
lies when the law was first es-
tablished. After the death of a
family head, his eldest son
could inherit the number, but
only after the son was 24.
Younger brothers were not per-
mitted a number unless their
older brother died. Men who
had only daughters were out of
luck altogether. After they died,
their numbers were retired.
In spite of the fact that vio-
lators of the laws could be
flogged, many Jews had secret
marriages. They were forced to
register their children, who
were obligated to use their
mothers' last names, as illegit-
imate.
In addition, Jews were per-
mitted to reside only in places
where they had lived before
1726. As a result, huge num-
bers of Jews were made per-
manently homeless, forced to
wander about the countryside,
often subsisting on begging.
The revolution of 1848 put
a practical end to the laws, but
they were not formally repealed
until 1859.
Q: My name is Bud and the oth-
er day I was hanging at Jim-Bob's
Bar and Grill. A lot of us guys are
there, guys who love picnics and
walks in the moonlight and send-
ing flowers to that special some-
one — hey, you didn't realty believe
me now, did you? Give me some
beef jerky and a bowling ball any
day!
Anyway, I'm sitting there when
in walks the most beautiful woman
I have ever seen. I mean the ice in
my drink was melting as soon as
she got near. And what do I see;
what do I see. She's wearing a Star
of David necklace. Hey, I am Jew-
ish, too, I tell her. But she is unim-
pressed.
Of course I'm eager to show her
that, in addition to being all man in
the body department, I have brains!
So I invited her for a beer. But do
you know what happened? She
turns around, walks away and tells
me, "Jews do not drink beer."
Tell Me Why, I am certain many
men out there are in my same
predicament. Please, offer us some
useful advice on how to handle
these situations.
A: My friend, you have come
to the right place.
Here, at last, is the answer
to the age-old myth that Jews
don't drink beer.
There is ample historical ev-
idence that our ancestors drank
beer. The most common form of
beer is made from barley, which
grew wild in ancient Israel. The
brewing of beer was common in
the ancient Near East. In fact,
there is archaeological evidence
that beer made from malted
grain was brewed in
Mesopotamia by 6000 BCE.
The art of brewing also was
practiced in ancient Egypt.
Modern brewers believe two-
row barley makes the best beer.
The wild barley that grows in
the Land of Israel is thought to
be the ancestral form of two-
row barley.
Contemporary breweries
make beer by cooking the bar-
ley malt and later fermenting
it with yeast. The ancient Jews
made beer by soaking the bar-
ley until it sprouted, and then
ground it. Next, they added
yeast and molded the mixture
into cakes, which were partial-
ly baked. The cakes were crum-
bled, put into jars of water and
left to ferment. Unlike many of
their neighbors, the Jews added
hops, which helped to preserve
and partly clarify the beer. The
final product was a dark, cloudy
beverage (modern beer is made
clear through storage and fil-
tration).
Any papa, rabbi or head of a
yeshiva in fourth-century Baby-
lonia could be a brewer, al-
though he made beer frOm a
very different food: dates.
Editor's Note:
Recently, a reader wrote to
ask whether Chaim Weiz-
mann's name at birth had been
Chaim Fialkow. Tell Me Why
responded that Weizmann was
the given name of Israel's first
president, which is correct.
However, further research
shows that Weizmann was not,
in fact, his ancestral name.
Weizmann's paternal grand-
father was Chaim Azriel Fi-
alkow of Serniki Pervye, a
small town north of Rovno in
the western Ukrainian
province of Volyn.
Chaim Azriel Fialkow, a tal-
mudic scholar who made his
living as a merchant, married
Gitl Rivka Chermerinski of
Motol, a small town northwest
of Pinsk in Byelorussia (Be-
larus).
Chaim Azriel and Gitl Riv-
ka had seven sons, all subject
to conscription in the Russian
army. Inasmuch as Russian
law provided an exemption
from military service for the
only son in a family, it was a c---\
common practice for Jewish
boys who wanted to evade the
draft to change their last
names and be "adopted" by
other families as their only
sons.
Five of the Fialkow boys
changed their last names, to
include a Shapiro, Goldweitz,
Rosensweig and Berman. Ozer
Fialkow, born in 1852, chose
Weizmann as his new last
name. The two youngest Fi-
alkow sons did not alter their
last names, presumably be-
cause the conscription laws
had changed by then. ❑
Send questions to Tell Me Why,
The Jewish News, 27676
Franklin Road, Southfield, MI
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