FEBRUARY 27 • 2020 | 5
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for openers
At First Yuck
E
veryone has those special foods that
remind them of home or childhood.
But as you dig in and are
“mmmm-mmmm”ing happily away, you
might find that people around you don’
t
quite share your enthusiasm. They’
re
watching you incredulously,
saying thing like, “How can
you eat that? That’
s disgust-
ing!”
I grew up in Australia, and
a childhood staple was toast
with butter and Vegemite.
Even today I have a jar of
Vegemite in my pantry, and
every so often I’
ll crack open the jar, take a
whiff and be transported right back to my
childhood. I also sometimes, just for kicks,
stick it under my kids’
noses — I love
their expressions of abject horror. Anyone
who grew up outside Australia or England
seems to agree that Vegemite looks like the
black stuff they layer the roads with and
smells even worse.
It goes the other way, too. As a newbie, I
hadn’
t tried some local foods until I made
my home in Detroit. For example, I hadn’
t
had seven-layer cake. The transition was
easy; I describe it as love at first bite. It
didn’
t, however, go as smoothly with root
beer or Vernors, which gave me a strong
taste of dental surgery gone wrong.
One guy capitalized on this phenome-
non. A while back, Samuel West of Sweden
opened the doors to his “Disgusting Foods
Museum.” People voluntarily part with
their hard-earned money for the honor of
exploring his collection of the world’
s most
gruesome edible delights. His displays
include fermented herring from Sweden,
roasted guinea pigs and frog smoothies
from Peru, the infamous stinky fruit from
Thailand and century eggs (preserved for
three months) from China. An entire sec-
tion is dedicated to cheese alone, called the
Altar of Stinky Cheese. Some of the foods
can even be sampled. The entrance tickets
are useable vomit bags, just in case.
And, yes, if you’
re wondering, he cer-
tainly does have a jar of Vegemite on dis-
play. (It’
s not even the only Australian food
they have. There are also Musk Sticks, a
soft pink licorice that kind of resembles a
thin squirt of toothpaste that smells like
musk and tastes like it, too.)
Food can be a very cultural experience.
I’
ve been wondering if someone might fol-
low Mr. West’
s example and open a “Jewish
Foods Museum.” Of course, a whole sec-
tion would be dedicated to fish — lox,
gefilte, herring — and potfuls of steaming
Jewish penicillin and an exhibit on matzah
(carefully placed on a non-wooden,
non-cardboard stand, so people don’
t get
mixed up and eat the display).
They could have a section devoted to
each holiday, like fried everything for
Chanukah and cheese everything for
Shavuot. That famous nine-word summa-
ry of all Jewish holidays can be the printed
on the paper plates: “They tried to kill us;
we won; let’
s eat.”
To add to the true Jewish eating expe-
rience, the museum could have a bubbie
sitting there urging everyone, “Eat more!
Eat more! Oy, you’
re much too thin!” (And
in some cases, “
Are you single? Because I
have a son …”)
Of course, no one could possibly leave
without making a l’
chaim with some
Manischewitz wine and making a toast …
to the challah.
All would be welcome. Even Australians
who might quietly slather some delicious
Vegemite on that toast.
A Special Friendship
The Mobile station on the corner of Maple
and Adams in Birmingham is much more
than just a gas station. It’
s a refuge for many
and represents a cohesive family. Kyle
Hannawa, the station’
s owner, informed my
husband and me
of Bruce Kwaselow’
s death
on Feb. 9. Bruce was an employee who
walked from his nearby apartment to work
each morning before 6 a.m. He was reliable,
honest and loyal. With Bruce’
s death we all
lost a friend; but Kyle lost a brother.
I am reminded of the words in Proverbs:
“There is a friend that sticketh closer than a
brother.
” Kyle was that
brother to Bruce. After
Bruce became ill, Kyle
would visit every day
after work, combing
Bruce’
s hair, helping
him brush his teeth or
do anything else that
Bruce needed done.
Kyle is Chaldean. Bruce was Jewish. Is
there a different God for both of them?
I think not. My heart ached when I saw
Kyle at Bruce’
s funeral, officiated by Rabbi
Rubenstein of Congregation Beth Ahm.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tossed
dirt onto Bruce’
s casket.
We will miss Bruce. He asked for so little
and gave so much. May his memory be for
a blessing. And we ache for Kyle, who lost a
friend and a brother.
— Ruth Grimaldi
Birmingham
CORRECTIONS
• In “Upheaval at WSU Press” (Feb. 20, page
24), Editor-in-Chief Annie Martin’
s last
name was spelled incorrectly. Also, the three
WSU Press leaders dismissed from their
jobs were not escorted from their offices.
• In “Brotherly Leadership” (Feb. 20, page
50), Zack Kirshner’
s last name was mis-
spelled. Jason Gelsey is a member of Sigma
Tau Gamma fraternity.
Rochel
Burstyn
letters
Kyle and Bruce