“RABBI’S MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos
Kodesh parshas Vayetzei
8 Kislev 5783/December
2, 2022
PICKLE PEOPLE
In celebration of her Bas Mitzvah last week, my daughter
Chayala and I went on a father-daughter outing. No, we didn’t go to Eretz
Yisroel, LA or Miami. Far more exciting than that, we went to visit the land of
my youth, Manhattan’s Lower East Side. For me it was a walk down memory lane,
for Chayala it was a glimpse into a strange and unfamiliar world.
We walked up Grand Street and East Broadway, and I pointed
out to her the apartment buildings where both sets of my grandparents had
lived. We then went to 550G Grand Street, the building where I had grown up
until our family moved to Monsey. We spent a few minutes meeting with Mrs.
Pauline Hagler, our beloved neighbor from those years, who still lives next
door to the apartment I grew up in.
I noticed that on the front door of our old apartment there was
a Puerto Rican flag and a mezuzah. Mrs. Hagler explained that the family currently
living there isn’t Jewish but wanted to hang a mezuzah on their door like
everyone else on the floor. Unfortunately, no one was home when we knocked so
we didn’t have the chance to see my old apartment.
We stopped by a bakery where the cashier told me she
remembered my parents and grandparents well. We visited Mesivta Tiferes
Yerushalayim, the yeshiva of Rabbi Moshe and then Rabbi Dovid Feinstein zt”l
and where I attended through first grade. We drove by the impressive building
where my Zaydei had once been the Rabbi but, painfully, has since become a
museum.
We were also able to visit the Polisher Shteeble, where not
only my family had davened, but my Sabba and Savta davened as well. Walking
into the Shteeble was like walking into a time warp. Everything looks exactly
as it did thirty years ago.
The highlight of our trip was visiting Rebbitzin Malka
Feinstein, wife of the late Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Dovid Feinstein, in her
apartment. When I asked the Rebbitzin for a beracha for Chayala she warmly
replied that she gives orders, not berachos. She then “ordered” Chayala to keep
giving her parents nachas.
It was very nostalgic for me. But there was still one last
place we had to visit, because no visit to the Lower East Side is complete
without a pickle.
If you’re asking what pickle, you obviously don’t know much
about the Lower East Side. Guss’ Pickles was a fixture on the Lower East Side
for decades. It began with Izzy Guss, an immigrant who arrived in New
York from Russia as a youngster about 1910, sold pickles from a pushcart before
he opened a shop on Hester Street in 1920. The shop with its iconic barrels of
pickles, outlived dozens of rivals, and eventually became one of the
neighborhood’s last pickle stores and a Lower East Side legend. It’s been said if you haven’t eaten a Guss
pickle, you haven’t eaten a real pickle in your life.
These days, because of legalities the pickle store is called
“The Pickle Guys”. But they pride themselves on having the same quality and
taste as Guss’ beloved pickles. When Chayala took a bite into one of their
pickles, she confirmed that she had never had such a tasty and crunchy pickle
in her life. It’s the type of pickle that inspired Joey Newcomb to sing his
song about the “krach” of the pickle. Chayala was surprised to find out
that pickles start out as cucumbers. It was a fascinating discovery for her.
After we arrived home that evening, I emailed the Pickle Guys
to ask them their secret for getting such a good pickle crunch. They responded
that the key was to find a quality cucumber. Smaller ones like Kirby cucumbers
are best. Then let them pickle slowly and naturally in the fridge, and not to
heat or cook the brine. They allow the pickles to remain bathing in their specially
prepared juice and spices for days until they produce their distinctive taste.
There is ongoing discussion in the world of psychology called
the nature-nurture debate. Nature refers to one’s innate genetics, while
nurture refers to one’s upbringing and life experience. Contemporary experts
acknowledge that both nature and nurture play a role in psychological
development, but they debate which is more significant.
The Torah outlook is clear that one is influenced and molded
by both nature and nurture. The Rambam (hilchos de’os 6:1) famously writes that
throughout life a person is heavily impacted and influenced by his social
environment.
Munching on a crunchy Lower East Side pickle on Sunday, I
reflected on the fact that, on some level, we are all “pickled” by our
neighbors, friends, and community. No one lives in a vacuum. Our surroundings
mold us and have a profound effect on how we think and behave. If we hang out with
people who aren’t scrupulous in their morals it is bound to affect us
negatively. On the other hand, when our social circle takes Torah observance
seriously, our personal observance will inevitably be enhanced as well.
The Jewish people have always placed a strong emphasis on
community life. We celebrate together and mourn together and are there for each
other. We influence each other and encourage each other to maintain our faith
even in challenging times.
More important than the delicious crunchy taste of a pickle,
I hope Chayala will remember the profound truism that the pickle symbolizes:
Where we hang out and who we surround ourselves with will have important
ramifications on our lives.
Just as the best pickles are created in barrels spiced just
right, the best people surround themselves with positive role models, neighbors
and friends.
That’s an invaluable lesson for a Bas Mitzvah, and all from a
Lower East Side pickle.
Thanks Guss!
Shabbat Shalom & Good Shabbos,
R’ Dani and Chani Staum