The trials and tribulations of being Jewish

This Saturday, I will be attending a holiday party thrown by a classmate. There will be fancy dress, eggnog, and all other sorts of delicious "let's call it holiday but really it's just all about Christmas" appropriate fare. Despite the fact that eggnog is one of my favorite things of all time - and PS don't be like me and look up the nutritional information for eggnog online because you will discover that one cup of it is nearly half the fat and calories of what you're supposed to consume in an entire day - I decided that this "holiday" party needed some Jewish flair. So I offered to make latkes.

I think you unchosen ones know these by their heathen name, "potato pancakes."

I've never made latkes before, but I figured it wouldn't be too hard. However, I knew I should give them a test drive before the actual day of the party, since I am a terrible cook in all respects and can ruin pretty much anything.

I was gearing up to make some kickass latkes today. I bought a fancy 7 dollar cheese grater at Bed Bath and Beyond, and was grating the crap out of some potatoes.

Then it came time for me to grate the onion. As soon as I picked it up, I remembered exactly how horrible I am at dealing with onions. I have an obscenely high pain threshold for things like stubbing my toe (which I do a LOT), but for some reason, onions are my kryptonite. So I was having flashbacks of onion-related pain and then I was all, "well, I'm not chopping onion, just grating it. So maybe it will be fine."

To say this logic is flawed is to give too much credit to the fact that I am even daring to call this burst of stupidity "logic."

Sometimes I cook with sunglasses on so as to try to prevent the burning. Actually, I should just rephrase that to say, "Sometimes I cook." Period. I can't even remember the last time I made something that involved me manipulating an onion in any way. But whatever, I didn't have my sweet shades anyway.

So as soon as I start grating, my eyes feel like someone poured boiling water in them and I can't even rub them because one hand is covered in potato and one hand is holding an onion and I'm desperately trying to rub my face into my shoulder but IT DOES NOT HELP and then I can't keep my eyes open anymore but I must keep grating in the name of the preservation of the Jewish people so I grate with my eyes closed which is nervewracking because how do I even know I'm getting the onion in the bowl, plus you lose your balance when you close your eyes and then even with closed eyes IT STILL BURNS and I'm grating and grating and WHY IS THIS TAKING SO LONG and then my roommate walks in the door and I look like I just went through a horrible breakup with my puffy eyes and tears streaming down my face and I'm all "OH GOD, THE ONIONS I CAN'T HANDLE THEM" and my roommate is laughing RATHER INSENSITIVELY and finally I decide I don't need anymore onion in my latkes and I grab a wet paper towel and throw it on my face and all begins to be well in the world again.

My latkes turned out well except I think they need more salt. I look forward to perfecting the recipe but I do NOT look forward to doing onion battle again in just a few days' time. But I'm at least satisfied that I have proven my worth as a potential Jewish mother though it is unfortunate that I can only do this by sacrificing my eyesight to feed people something that is essentially deep-fried and artery-clogging. So my latkes are going to join the eggnog at this party and maybe it'll turn into a "which religion can kill you the fastest?" theme (what you got Islam?). Except at least we Jews have the miracle of Chanukah (which involves oil) to blame for our 8 day oil binge but to my knowledge, eggnog holds no religious significance.

Jews win!