Oops!

As told to Shevy Hollander

Imust have heard the word “heavenly” at least 40 times in two weeks. None of the references had anything to do with spiritual aspirations celestial bodies or the clouds above us. But the word was related to the Yom Tov that represents our highest aspirations and holiest desires.

They displayed them in rounds in squares and garnished with exquisite designs. Each ad and recipe was masterfully created to whet appetites send readers into a wonderland of creamy goodness and dispatch them to the freezer where they stealthily pilfered goodies from the pans (that were labeled with untempting names like “cabbage noodles ” in the hope that enough would remain for the Shavuos kiddush).

But not me. The sight of cheesecake made me nauseous and sick. I recalled the last Shavuos when the milchig kiddush all but knocked me out for the rest of the Yom Tov. I forced myself to keep my head above the queasy feeling trying valiantly to smile and be the Bubby-hostess I aim to be but wanting to crawl into my bed and never taste a bite of cheesecake again.

I am just not a cheese person. It’s bad for my waistline awful for my high cholesterol level and I derive no enjoyment from it. Every year I make do with a few butter cookies and a standard light cheesecake. How happy my children were with this yearly treat savoring each bite of their coveted slice. There was even stomach room to eat the fleishig seudah afterward.