Instead, I got a distraught look in return, and then she asked in a strong accent, “Tell me, how many kids do you have? Because that looks like a lot of snacks!”
“Don’t worry,” I responded. “They only take one a day, and it’s only for school.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” she said, complete unsatisfied with my defensive response. “Children need homemade food. You don’t give this to kids. You should be making them blintzes!” (She wasn’t referring to Tuv Taam.) I agreed with her, and told her how right she was (on some level).
Walking out of the store, I thought about her comments, somewhat humored by the fact that she knows nothing about my day-to-day life. I’m a mother who loves serving her kids healthy and nourishing suppers and making sure they get some fruits and vegetables in somehow, someway. I was grateful for the mussar, and it reminded me of how idyllic it would be if I had time in my day to make homemade blintzes for a snack. It’s a message about nourishing the people we love, and how love weaves its way into the food we make.
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