For all its talk of the Book of Life, Yom Kippur has nothing on Simchat Torah when it comes to turning the page. We literally roll this one long page of text and story all the way back to the beginning. On Tuesday night, it almost felt like we could roll back the last two years, too.

“The mood was off,” I wrote on Oct. 8, 2023, after having attended a Simchat Torah celebration the same day that Hamas stormed over the Gaza border, killing and taking hostages. 

“It didn’t feel like the situation in Israel today had fully dawned on anyone yet,” I wrote then. “At the same time, our joy, such as it was, hardly overflowed.”

Last year, Simchat Torah was simply muted.

But this year, we partied. Last night, I was at Congregation Beth Sholom, which I just joined two years ago. The crowd was bigger. All ages were out in force. Wine and scotch flowed freely. People sang and danced with each other and with the Torah. There was a lightness in the room.

About 150 were in attendance, including members of Congregation Kol Shofar in Tiburon, which celebrates Simchat Torah with Beth Sholom each year. Isaac Zones and his band Shamati played upbeat songs throughout the hakafot, seven dancing processions around the room while holding Torahs.

Between two hakafot, Rabbi Paul Steinberg of Kol Shofar addressed the room, describing Sukkot and Simchat Torah as “a reseeding for the spring to come.” 

“And so tonight, we are planting the seeds for this coming year,” he said. “So what are you going to plant it with? We’re gonna plant it with community. We’re gonna plant it with justice. We’re gonna plant it with love. We’re gonna plant it with goodness. We’re gonna plant it with compassion. We get a chance to start again. That’s what today is, reclaiming this holiday and reclaiming ourselves as a community.”

Big words — but they matched the mood.

I spotted two Beth Sholom regulars who have worn their IDF-style “Bring Them Home” dogtags every day since the attack; both were grinning ear-to-ear all night, no dogtags in sight.

My boss, editor-in-chief Chanan Tigay, was there too. He showed me a text from a friend: “Was going to sit this one out because I’m rather burnt out, but I think I need to dance with some Jews ASAP.”

Staff writer Emma Goss was at Congregation Beth Jacob in Redwood City, and she said the vibe was similar.

“It’s a bittersweet day, it’s a beautiful day, it’s a meaningful day,” Rabbi Nat Ezray told the crowd. “I know I needed to dance tonight.”

Of course, it’s not an uncomplicated joy. An American Israeli member of Beth Jacob who identified herself as Grace told Emma, “We’re just so joyous that we can finally stand together as a people, as a nation, that finally we get to breathe, that we get a breather.” At the same time, she said, “I’m not taking my little yellow ribbon off, because until all of the deceased are released to their families, there’s just not closure yet.”

Another member, Alyse Katz, came with her husband and two sons, 5 and 8. She told Emma she was feeling “a mix of emotions — joy, relief, but also sadness about what’s happened the past two years.”

Her family joined Beth Jacob last year. “We thought especially after the events of the past couple years it was really important for us to join a synagogue,” she said.

Reporter Lea Loeb was at Congregation Beth Israel in Berkeley for the holiday. The Modern Orthodox synagogue has a closer connection to Oct. 7 than most. Hersh Goldberg-Polin, the Berkeley native who was taken hostage on Oct. 7 and executed by Hamas 11 months later, attended Beth Israel as a little boy. His mother, Rachel Goldberg-Polin, has become one of the most recognizable faces of the hostage families.

Hersh’s memory is of course very much present at the shul. Lea noticed a small memorial to the hostages and to Hersh, with a handmade poster and a spray-painted portrait of him.

Nevertheless, Simchat Torah was a wall-to-wall party, even at Beth Israel. And folks wanted to make sure Lea got some partying in herself, despite having brought her two little kiddos along.

“Everyone knew I was new there and came up to me and offered to help me get a plate for my 3-year-old or hold the baby so I could dance,” she told me.

And it was loud. “I should have known I was in trouble when the woman behind me said she brought two packs of ear plugs because last year she ran out,” Lea said.

“The floors in the building are wood so everyone stomps very loudly. One woman even brought hard-soled clogging shoes to change into. Literally everyone was smiling, laughing, yelling. Kids were running in and out of the building playing tag. Everyone was screaming and clapping and stomping. Just overall the definition of a joyous occasion.”

Lea also put her finger on something I hadn’t quite been able to articulate: “Past Simchat Torah celebrations I had been to, the vibe was like, ‘OK and now we’re supposed to be happy! So dance!’ And this one felt genuine.” I had the exact same feeling last night.

During the Torah reading, Rabbi Yonatan Cohen dedicated each verse to a different group of people and asked them to join in, including one for “everyone who has felt the weight of the past two years” and one for “everyone who has been praying for peace.”

When Lea left around 9:30 p.m., she could still hear the singing three blocks away.

Meanwhile, back at Beth Sholom, we were done with the hakafot and had retired to a downstairs meeting room for the tish. Literally Yiddish for “table,” a tish is a raucous gathering of communal singing and drinking around a table. It’s not necessarily a Simchat Torah tradition, but it is at Beth Sholom.

We sang loudly. We banged on the table. We drank, possibly a little too much. (I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just me.)

The words of songs I’ve sung hundreds of times sounded different. Are they always so focused on Israel and salvation? Probably. But “Am Yisrael Chai,” “Hoshia Et Amecha” and “Od Yavo Shalom Aleinu,” with its Arabic refrain of “Salaaaaam,” all strike a different chord on the rare day when a glimmer of hope hangs over Israel.

And it is just a glimmer. Personally, I am not filled with optimism. The hostages are home, yes. But the cease-fire that brought them back looks dangerously fragile. And even if it holds — even if there truly is peace in the Middle East tomorrow — I won’t be able to stop thinking about all the loss, all the pain and the long road to healing for those most afflicted by these last two years and more.

I also can’t stop thinking about the acrimony within Jewish communities here in the U.S. I have little hope that we’ll be able to heal from the things we’ve said and done to one another over the last two years. Because unlike the Torah scroll, we can’t roll back that time — not really.

As we sang around the table and as I got lost in worrying about the future of the Jewish people, something reminded me to stop, shut up and enjoy a good thing for a few minutes:

Toward the end of the tish, one of Beth Sholom’s stalwart regulars staggered upright, raised a snifter of something in the air, and shouted “L’chaim! The hostages are home, and Simchat Torah is back!”

“Jew in the Pew,” a column about ritual and spiritual goings-on in the Jewish Bay Area, is back after a hiatus. Got suggestions? Send your ideas to david@jweekly.com.

(JTA) — All 20 of the Israeli hostages still alive two years after being taken hostage by Hamas have returned to Israel, following an emotional morning that commanded the attention of Jews around the world who had lobbied for their release.

Unlike in past hostage releases, Hamas did not stage release “ceremonies,” a condition of the deal the group in charge of Gaza made in striking a U.S.-brokered ceasefire deal last week. But in another departure, the group provided phones for hostages waiting for Red Cross vehicles to use to call their families, creating jarring scenes of joyful conversations taking place with masked terrorists visible on screen.

The family of Bar Kupershtein released a video of him telling his ecstatic mother, “It’s OK, Mom. Don’t worry.”

Einav Zangauker, the mother of Matan Angrest, was filmed telling him, “The war is over. You’re all coming home. You are my world. I love you.”

Another photo, released by Israel, showed Gali and Ziv Berman, twins abducted from Kibbutz Kfar Aza, reuniting after being held separately in captivity.

Alon Ohel, who was thought to have suffered injuries to his eyes, could be seen putting on sunglasses provided to him by the Israeli soldiers tasked with bringing him home.

And Lishay Miran-Lavi, waiting for husband Omri Miran after speaking to him by FaceTime, called their two young daughters to tell them, “Daddy’s coming home.” Soon, she and her husband were reunited in person.

The hostages appeared pale and gaunt. A small number looked starved. But they all walked on their own and in some cases appeared to be in improved condition compared to past footage released by Hamas.

The videos and photographs elicited joyous cheers from the tens of thousands of people who gathered in Hostages Square in Tel Aviv, where the site of pained prayer was transformed into a central address for jubilation. The massive “Bring Them Home” letters that had loomed over the square for most of the last two years were revised on Sunday night to say, “Welcome Back Home.”

Another crowd convened at Reim, the kibbutz near the Gaza border where many of the hostages were abducted during the Nova music festival on Oct. 7, 2023, and which would mark their first stop in Israel en route to being reunited with their families. The gathering marked Hoshana Rabbah, the ritual to mark the end of Sukkot. Monday night marks the beginning of Simchat Torah, the Jewish holiday on which Hamas staged its attack and took roughly 250 hostages.

After the 20 living hostages were released Monday, the remains of 28 hostages remained in Gaza, including the body of a soldier kidnapped in 2014.

Under the terms of the deal, Hamas must release their bodies too, but the group said it had been been able to locate all of them. By the end of Monday, only four bodies had been returned.

(JTA) — Like most synagogues, Congregation Beth El in South Orange, New Jersey added new rituals after the Oct. 7, 2023 attacks that killed 1,200 in Israel, saw another 251 taken hostage and launched a grinding war between Israel and Hamas.  

The Conservative congregation hung a “bring them home now” sign out front on behalf of the hostages. Rabbi Jesse Olitzky added the “Acheinu” prayer for redeeming captives to the weekly Shabbat service, and each week read the biography of a hostage. As the war raged on, the congregation sang songs of peace. 

There and elsewhere, congregants wore yellow hostage ribbons and pins on their lapels, and dog tags with the names of the missing. Some families lit extra candles on Shabbat. Rachel Goldberg-Polin, whose son Hersh would eventually be listed among the dead in Gaza, popularized the wearing of a piece of masking tape on which she wrote the number of days since the hostages were taken.  

This week, as the last 20 living hostages were returned to Israel as part of a cease-fire deal between Israel and Hamas, many Jews are relieved to be ending these rituals — even as they question whether it is right to do so and wonder how to channel their prayers and practices toward whatever comes next. Twenty-four deceased hostages are believed to be in Gaza, and even as soldiers return home and Gazans reclaim what’s left of their former lives, an enduring peace seems far away. 

At Beth El, the Acheinu and lawn sign will stay in place until the bodies are returned. In the meantime, Tuesday night’s celebration of Simchat Torah will be a chance to experience a sense of relief members haven’t felt in two years.

“Like so many we haven’t been able as a people to move forward and get to Oct. 8 until the hostages came home,” Olitzky said Monday, hours after Hamas released the living hostages. “And now there is a sense of being able to exhale and breathe and, God willing, to move forward, to rebuild, and for all Israeli citizens and for Palestinians to have opportunities to build peace.”

This week, rabbis and Jews in the pews are asking if it is time to move forward.

Rabbi Yael Ridberg, the recently retired spiritual leader of Congregation Dor Hadash in San Diego, said she would remove the ribbon and dog tag she wears when the bodies of the deceased hostages are returned. 

“I look forward to tucking them away, but not disposing of them,” she wrote in response to a journalist’s query. “I will stop wearing them when all the deceased hostages are returned. These are keepsakes of a time worth remembering, as hard as it has been for the last two years.”

Ronit Wolff Hanan, the former music director at Congregation Beth Sholom in Teaneck, New Jersey, said she is not sure what to do with the ribbon pin and dog tags she’s worn for most of the past two years. She’s torn between “this unbelievable release and relief and joy,” and sadness that there are still 24 bodies yet to be returned.

“My whole thing is, well, what do we do know?” said Wolff Hanan, a dual U.S.-Israeli citizen whose son served over 300 days in the Israeli reserves during the war. “I keep thinking about the long, difficult road all of these hostages and families have ahead of them, and it’s just unimaginable. But also I’m thinking about, when it is really over? We don’t know if this is the dawn of a new era or if we are going to go back to the same old, same old.”  

Her partner, Rabbi Eli Havivi, offered his own solution to a similar dilemma: In synagogue on Monday morning, he wore his hostage dog tags, but covered with blue painter’s tape, in order to suggest that “it’s over, but it is not over.” 

On a Facebook page for Jewish women, a number of members spoke of their reluctance to stop lighting extra candles. Some felt that if they did, it would break a kind of spiritual commitment, or might suggest that they’ve given up on the freed hostages who will continue to have mental and physical challenges. Some referred to a passage from Talmud (Shabbat 21b) that extends the metaphor of the Hanukkah candles to suggest that someone should always add light, not subtract.     

By contrast, the comic Periel Aschenbrand wrote that she was eager to take off the button that she’d been wearing in solidarity with Omri Miran, a hostage abducted in front of his wife and two children on Oct. 7. “I can’t wait to be able to take it off tomorrow, and for Omri to be reunited with his daughters and family,” she wrote Sunday on Instagram. 

Alyssa Goldwater, an Orthodox influencer, wrote that she too is “really looking forward” to taking off the yellow ribbon pin she’s worn over the past two years, but that removing doesn’t mean forgetting. 

“When you remove a pin, the tiny holes never fully go away,” she wrote on Instagram. “They will remain and serve as a reminder that we will never forget what has happened to us over the last two years. We will never forget who stood by us and who stood soundly or against us. The holes will be tiny because we pray that the hostages will be able to eventually heal and live their regular lives again, where the unimaginable travesties they’ve been through won’t even be noticeable in the human eye, but the holes will remain, because this is a part of us now.”

Long before Oct. 7 led to a torrent of new practices, Jews altered their prayers and rituals in tune with current events, with some changes handed down from rabbis and others bubbling up from the “folk.” 

Some changes stick — like the Av HaRachamim memorial prayer, composed in the Middle Ages for those who perished in the Crusades — and others fall away. In the 1970s and ’80s boys and girls celebrating their b’nai mitzvah “twinned” with Soviet Jews unable to emigrate. Adults wore silver bracelets with the name of these refuseniks, and put them away when the emigration restrictions fell.  

The additions and changes that persist usually speak to other events, the way Av HaRachamim has become a weekly reminder of various Jewish tragedies. In general, however, a prayer or ritual that responds to current events “should have a theoretical timestamp for when it exits stage left, even if we cannot always know when that time will come,” Rabbi Ethan Tucker, president and rosh yeshiva of Hadar, explained in a Facebook post discussing the transition away from Oct. 7 practices. “Without that foresight and planning, the addition either straggles on, eventually becoming a kind of exhibit in the gallery of prayer, or it simply fades away when monotony and detachment have gotten the better of it.”

The Jewish calendar itself seemed to conspire in the spiritual turbulence of many Jews: The hostage release came on the eve of Israelis’ celebration of Simchat Torah — and the second anniversary, on the Hebrew calendar, of the Hamas attacks. 

The holiday is meant to be a day of unbridled joy. A centerpiece of Simchat Torah is the hakafah, when congregants dance with and around the Torah scrolls

Last year, congregations struggled with how to match the happy themes of the holiday with the one-year anniversary of the worst attack in Israel’s history. Olitzky said his congregation began last year’s Simchat Torah festivities with a “solemn” hakafah, where congregants sang Israel’s national anthem and a somber Hebrew song while standing still. Olitzky said he took solace at the time in the words of Goldberg-Polin, who said, “’There is a time to sob and a time to dance’ and we have to do both right now.”

And while the release of the hostages is also tinged with sadness — for the lost years, the captives who didn’t make it, the suffering still to come — many will use the holiday as a celebration of deliverance and gratitude.  

The release of the hostages, Olitzky said, will “allow Simchat Torah to be that — the holiday when we are supposed to have so much joy. Last year it was difficult to find that joy on Simchat Torah. I truly believe that we will have a greater opportunity in the days ahead to sing and dance.” 

Adat Shalom, a Reconstructionist synagogue in Bethesda, Maryland, will use Simchat Torah to celebrate the hostages’ return by ending another common practice since Oct. 7: a chair left empty on the synagogue’s bima, featuring the image of a missing hostage.

During the dancing on Simchat Torah, marked on Tuesday night outside of Israel, the congregation will bring the chair and use it to lift up members wedding-style. “We have a lot of people in the community who are really close with the Hostages and Missing Families Forum in Washington,” said Rabbi Scott Perlo. “We’re going to take that very chair, and take it from its depths and lift it up, and make it the centerpiece of our joy.”

Adat Shalom rotated in a number of special prayers and readings over the past two years, acknowledging, Perlo said ruefully, that “there’s so much to pray for,” including “the hostages, the safety of our family in Israel, the safety of people in Gaza,” and the state of American democracy. 

He understands that some congregants may be wary of letting go of the new rites and prayers — perhaps afraid that if they don’t keep up the tradition, the horrors that prompted their prayers will only return. 

“So what I would say to them is some version of, ‘Yes, don’t let it go completely, but let it transform into something new,’” said Perlo.

Rabbi Felipe Goodman of Temple Beth Sholom in Las Vegas, Nevada also plans to incorporate a ritual of release and transformation during Simchat Torah celebrations on Tuesday night. He’s asking congregants to bring their yellow pins and dog tags and place them on an heirloom Torah cover.  “This cover will be dedicated as a memorial and displayed at the entrance of our Temple, so that every time we walk through through Our Temple’s doors, we will remember what happened on Oct. 7, 2023,” he wrote in a message to members.

On Sunday, Hanna Yerushalmi, a rabbi based in Annapolis, Maryland, shared a poem on Instagram, called “Yellow Chairs” that imagined a near future in which hope will transform the fraught symbols of Oct. 7 grief and remembrance. It reads in part:

Empty chairs will be
saved for friends arriving late,
and tape will be
tape again,
and hostage necklaces
will be put away, forgotten in drawers.
and Saturday night will be date night once again.

After the High Holidays come to an end at sundown on Oct. 2, it will be time to turn our attention to Sukkot and Simchat Torah, two uplifting, family-friendly holidays. Sukkot is a weeklong harvest festival; it begins at sundown Oct. 6 and ends at sundown Oct. 13. Simchat Torah comes right after, starting the evening of Oct. 14. After the gravitas of the Days of Awe, these exuberant autumn holidays offer opportunities for joy, celebration and fun.

In this list, we’ve gathered holiday events around the Bay Area geared toward families and kids and featuring kid-friendly activities like arts and crafts, music and dancing, storytime and more. 

Sunday | October 5

Sukkot Celebration in Livermore — Tri-Valley Cultural Jews event includes sukkah-raising, arts and crafts, a potluck and more. Livermore location provided with registration. 10:30 a.m.-12 p.m. $15 suggested donation for nonmembers. To register, email CulturalJews@gmail.com or call (925) 399-8029.

JCC Family Cooking: Sukkot — Class for kids and adults. Bake apple cobbler and make mint honey lemonade to celebrate the holiday. At Oshman Family JCC, 3921 Fabian Way, Palo Alto. 4-5 p.m. $40 per family.

Beth Am Tot Sukkot — Celebration for families with young children ages 0-6 with sukkah decorating, story time and music. At Congregation Beth Am, 26790 Arastradero Road, Los Altos Hills. 3:30-5 p.m. Free. 

JCC East Bay Sukkot Celebration — Festive arts and crafts, cooking, games and more. In partnership with Berkeley Moshav, Jewtina y Co., Eden Village West, Wilderness Torah and Camp Tawonga. At 1414 Walnut Ave., Berkeley. 3-5 p.m. $12 per adult. 

Friday | October 10

JCC Sukkot Shabbat Dinner — The Oshman Family JCC hosts a celebration for families in the sukkah. At OFJCC, 3921 Fabian Way, Palo Alto. 5:30-7 p.m. $52 per family (two adults, two children), additional adults $22, additional children $14. Children 2 years and under free. 

Elevate Shabbat in the Sukkah — Celebrate Shabbat and Sukkot together. Shake the lulav, enjoy “Pizza in the Hut” dinner and musical service. At 740 Western Ave., Petaluma. 5:30 p.m. Suggested donation $18 per adult, kids under 12 free. 

Beth Am Shabbat & Sukkot Celebration — Congregation Beth Am celebrates Shabbat and Sukkot while also fundraising for ALAS (Helping Latinos Dream), a social service organization and farmworker advocacy group Half Moon Bay. At 26790 Arastradero Road, Los Altos Hills. 6:15 p.m. Free. 

Saturday | October 11

Sukkot & Fall Harvest Festival Pop-up — Annual farmers market booth hosted by the JCCSF includes shaking the lulav, tasting local honey and seasonal produce, and creating art with foraged, locally sourced and organic materials. At Ferry Plaza Farmers Market, 1 Ferry Plaza, S.F. 9 a.m.-2 p.m. Free. 

Sukkot: Pajama PJ Library Party — Peninsula JCC invites families to wear their pajamas for a cozy Sukkot celebration featuring arts and crafts, dinner and family-friendly Havdalah in the sukkah. Presented with PJ Library. At 800 Foster City Blvd., Foster City. 5-7 p.m. $10 per family. 

Emanu-El Young Family Sukkot Shabbat — Congregation Emanu-El hosts families with young children in its new rooftop  play space. Shake the lulav, enjoy Sukkot games and arts and crafts, plus bagel brunch. At 2 Lake St., S.F. 10-11:30 a.m. 

Sunday | October 12

Urban Adamah Sukkot Family Farm Festival — Holiday celebration for kids and families with arts and crafts, music, farm stations and light snacks. Concludes with singing and dinner in the sukkah. Co-presented with Jewish Gateways. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 2-5 p.m. $12-$36 per person, sliding scale. 

Sukkot Party and Concert in Petaluma — B’nai Israel Jewish Center invites all to its Sukkot party. Music by three bands playing a mix of Hebrew and English music, food trucks and hands-on holiday activities. At 740 Western Ave., Petaluma. 1-6 p.m. Free. 

Pomegranate Picnic in the Sukkah — Temple Beth Sholom invites families to a Sukkot picnic with storytelling by Joel ben Izzy. Preorder picnic baskets and drinks. RSVP and food orders must be received by Oct. 10. At 642 Dolores Ave., San Leandro. 11 a.m.-1 p.m. Picnic baskets $45 and up, drinks $6 and up.

Sukkot Party in the Sukkah — Family celebration with arts and crafts, music and dancing, and shaking the lulav. Co-hosted by Congregation Beth Jacob and Jewish Baby Network. At Beth Jacob, 1550 Alameda de las Pulgas, Redwood City. Free. 3:30-5 p.m.

“Shake the Lulav” — Family Sukkot party with music, dancing, snacks. Presented by Congregation Beth El and Jewish Baby Network. At Beth El, 1301 Oxford St., Berkeley. Free. 10:30 a.m.-12 p.m.

Monday | October 13

Fremont Simchat Torah Celebration — Music and dancing at Temple Beth Torah. At 42000 Paseo Padre Parkway, Fremont. 7 p.m. Free. 

Beth Am Simchat Torah — Congregation Beth Am invites all to their service followed by music, dancing and nosh, plus marking milestones for b’nai mitzvahs and kindergartners. At 26790 Arastradero Road, Los Altos Hills. 6:15-8 p.m. Free. 

Tuesday | October 14

Chochmat Simchat Torah Remixed — Chochmat HaLev celebrates the Torah with a kids’ program with the Latin-Jewish family program Olamim, followed by Maariv service and dance party. Pizza for kids and snacks for all. At 2215 Prince St., Berkeley. 5:30-10 p.m. Member adults $24, nonmember adults $36-$54. Kids free. 

Simchat Torah Celebration — Kehilla Community Synagogue invites all to their celebration in partnership with Or Shalom Jewish Community and Bay Area Jews for Justice. Dance with the Torah and enjoy live klezmer music with Mike Perlmutter on clarinet and sax and Diane Wirtschafter on vocals. At 1300 Grand Ave., Piedmont. 6:30-9:30 p.m. 

Wednesday | October 15

Simchat Torah Celebration — B’nai Israel Jewish Center invites families for dinner, singing, dancing and more. At 740 Western Ave., Petaluma. 4-7 p.m. $0-$18 suggested donation. 

The wrenching anniversary of the Oct. 7 attack is behind us on the Gregorian calendar. But on the Jewish calendar, the anniversary is still ahead — Shemini Atzeret (for Conservative and Orthodox Jews in the diaspora) or Simchat Torah (in Israel and in Reform practice). 

I have a visceral memory of coming to synagogue that morning, knowing only that something very terrible had happened and trying to hold one another up in our shock and sorrow. That sacred day, I fear, will forever be marked by our traumatic memories of what some Israelis call “Black Shabbat.” But before we get there on the calendar, we have Sukkot. 

The early rabbis had a remarkable disagreement about what were the sukkot (booths) in which the Israelites lived during their wilderness journey. “You shall live in booths seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in booths, in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt — I, your God.” (Leviticus 23:43-44)

What’s to argue about? Jewish children know from a young age what a sukkah is — it’s the hut built outside many Jewish homes, symbolizing the flimsy structures in which the Israelites lived during their wilderness journey.

But the Sifra (an early collection of midrash on the Book of Leviticus, written perhaps in the third century CE) tells us that Rabbi Eliezer said, yes, the sukkot described above are actual sukkot. Remarkably, Rabbi Akiva says that the sukkot described in the text are not physical sukkot at all, but the “clouds of glory” — clouds infused with the presence of the Divine. Later commentators, including Rashi, carry this midrashic image forward through the ages.

One wonders why a revered ancient rabbi and a commentator as literal-minded as Rashi would reject the obvious and plain meaning of the text (a sukkah is a sukkah!) and instead suggest that what sheltered the Israelites on their journey was God’s protective clouds. Even more importantly, what might this midrashic image mean for us?

To be surrounded by the Divine clouds means to feel embraced by the presence of the Divine, by something larger than ourselves, by a Mystery we cannot name or see. Enveloped in Divine clouds, we would feel protected and safe, trusting that it was possible to go on. We would believe that even if bad things were to happen (which they surely will), we would be able to navigate the challenges.

I am particularly struck this year by the image of the clouds of glory. Like many people I know, I have spent the past year in a near-constant state of fear, anxiety, grief and trauma. I have spent countless hours devouring the Israeli press, as if knowing every detail of unfolding events would make me less frightened. It didn’t. 

I am blessed to be one small step removed from the horrors of Oct. 7. None of my family members was killed or kidnapped in the attack or called into military service. So my engagement with the tragedy has been slightly less visceral than those on the front lines. Now that a year has passed, I can pause and take a breath.

For others like me, we could reach for the clouds as we move through the anniversary period (from Oct. 7 to Shemini Atzeret). What I mean by that is that we should be taking occasional moments off from reading, digesting and arguing about Israel, Gaza, Lebanon, Iran and antisemitism. For a moment here or there — even five or 10 minutes at a time — we can turn off the devices, put down the newspaper and notice ways in which we are, in fact, safe in this moment. We can notice some of the blessings in our lives and appreciate the people who offer us love and kindness, right here, right now.

We can choose to open up to sources of nourishment that are all around us and within us, giving thanks that we do not live in a physical war zone, even though some of our loved ones do. Even when we feel sad, angry, frustrated or fearful, we can notice that if we hold all of those feelings tenderly for a few moments, we feel just a bit lighter. And when we reach out to offer kindness to others, we almost always feel better. Together we create a sukkah of caring, of love and gentleness.    

The “clouds,” representing sources of shelter and protection, are a metaphor. Of course, in our lives there are real dangers, which we must be attentive to and act on. But if we pause for brief moments to open to the ways in which we are safe and nourished — even in these terrible times — we will be better prepared to speak and act with wisdom and clarity when we must.

May Sukkot bring us moments of shelter, care and resilience. And may the New Year bring us a time of more peace and blessing in our lives and in the world.

Yom Kippur will soon be in the rearview mirror and the days are growing shorter, which means Sukkot is right around the corner. The holiday begins on the evening of Wednesday, Oct. 16, and ends a week later on Oct. 23.

This holiday, sometimes known in English as the Feast of Tabernacles or by the epithet “Z’man Simchateinu — Time of our Joy,” commemorates the Israelites’ journey through the desert, celebrates the harvest season and encourages us to welcome guests into our sukkahs and our homes.

To help you make the most of this holiday, we compiled a list of Sukkot events and activities in the Bay Area. We also included some for Simchat Torah, which celebrates the ending and restarting of the yearly cycle of Torah readings and kicks off Oct. 24.

San Francisco

Wednesday, October 16

Sukkah Decorating Party — Holiday kick-off party with snacks, arts and crafts and sukkah decorating. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. At USF Campus, Welch Field between St. Ignatius Church and Kalmanovitz Hall. 11 a.m.-1 p.m. Free. 

Guests on Indigenous Land — Rabbi Faryn Borella of Or Shalom Jewish Community discusses how Jews can be good guests on indigenous land and how the Jewish tradition beckons us to the work of solidarity with Indigenous peoples. With dinner. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. At USF Campus, Welch Field between St. Ignatius Church and Kalmanovitz Hall. 6:30-8 p.m. Free. 

Thursday, October 17

Israel’s Black Panthers — Israeli American journalist Asaf Elia-Shalev of JTA discusses his new book, which explores Israel’s Black Panther movement of the 1970s led by young and impoverished Moroccan Israeli Jews who challenged the country’s political status quo and rebelled against ethnic hierarchy. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. At USF Campus, Welch Field between St. Ignatius Church and Kalmanovitz Hall. 6:30-8 p.m. Free. 

Friday, October 18

Shabbat in the Sukkah — Or Shalom Jewish Community and the Swig Program in Jewish Studies and Social Justice present musical Shabbat services in the sukkah with Rabbi Faryn Borella and the Or Shalom Music Ensemble. Bring a potluck dish to share. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. At USF Campus, Welch Field between St. Ignatius Church and Kalmanovitz Hall. Schmoozing and eating 5:30 p.m., service 6-7:30 p.m. Free. 

Saturday, October 19

Musical Sukkot — Event for families featuring music, story time, play, movement and holiday snacks. Bring ushpizin (special guests) to welcome into the sukkah. Presented by Tkiya Music, Jewish Baby Network and The Kitchen. At Jewish Community High School, 1835 Ellis St., S.F. 10:30-11:30 a.m. Free, registration required. 

Sukkot and Fall Harvest Festival — JCCSF presents a Sukkot-centric stall at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market that includes a sukkah, art from local creators, lulav and etrog shaking, honey tastings and more. Co-sponsored by Foodwise, Marshall’s Honey, Foraged Art and Leslie Jonath. At Ferry Plaza, One Ferry Building, S.F. 9 a.m.-2 p.m. Free. 

Sunday, October 20

Sukkot Street Festival Celebration — Chabad of Cole Valley presents community-wide holiday block party with live music, kid’s activities, a fire juggler, barbeque, moon bounce, rock climbing, balloon art, a sukkah and more. At 10th Ave. between Geary and Anza St., S.F. 4:30-8 p.m. Free, RSVP by Oct. 16. 

Celebrate in the Sukkah — San Francisco Campus for Jewish Living presents a community Sukkot event with food, music, ritual and card-making. At SFCJL, 302 Silver Ave., S.F., 3-5 p.m. Free, registration required.

Monday, October 21

Nourishing Our Collective Power — Meal in the sukkah with conversation about collective power and how to act for our collective future. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. At USF Campus, Welch Field between St. Ignatius Church and Kalmanovitz Hall. 5:30-6:30 p.m. Free. 

Tuesday, October 22

Body, Soul, Gender and God: Trans and Nonbinary Identities and the Art of Being Human — Trans Jewish scholar Joy Ladin discusses her books, which highlight what living between and beyond gender categories can teach us about becoming, loving, losing, mourning and otherwise being human. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. Online. 4:30-5:30 p.m. Free. 

Wednesday, October 23

University Ministry Multifaith Sukkot Peace Service — Community prayer service in the sukkah for peace. Part of USF’s annual Open Doors Sukkot program. At USF Campus, Welch Field between St. Ignatius Church and Kalmanovitz Hall. 12-12:45 p.m. Free. 

Thursday, October 24

Torah Meet and Greet — Three drop-in sessions to get up close and personal with an unrolled Torah scroll in celebration of Simchat Torah. At JCCSF, 3200 California St., S.F. 9-10 a.m., 12-1 p.m., 3-4 p.m. 

Saturday, October 26

Tots Together in the Sukkah — Jewish Baby Network event with lulav shaking, snacking, crafting, singing, puppets, schmoozing and celebrating. At Congregation Am Tikvah, 625 Brotherhood Way, S.F. 10-11:30 a.m. Free. 

North Bay

Wednesday, October 16

Soups in the Sukkah — Adult social in a sukkah. With soups, salads, desserts and warm drinks. At Chabad Jewish Center, 205 Keller St., #101, Petaluma. 6:30 p.m. Free. 

Sunday, October 20

“Jams for Joy” — Sukkot concert featuring Alex Jordan, Mookie Siegel, Jordan Feinstein, Angeline Saris, Jeremy Hoenig and Rabbi Shalom Bochner. With Mediterranean food truck. At B’nai Israel Jewish Center, 740 Western Ave., Petaluma. 2-6 p.m. Free. 

Cereal in the Sukkah — Sukkot celebration with cereal bar, pancake buffet, hot chocolate, lawn games, lulav shaking and edible sukkah. Presented by Chabad of Petaluma. Address given with reservation. 10 a.m. Free, RSVP required. 

Sukkot Storytime — Chabad of Central Marin presents Sukkot story time with puppets, songs, holiday-themed snacks and sangria for adults. At Marin location provided with RSVP. 10:30 a.m. Free. 

East Bay

Sunday, October 13

Tot Sukkot Celebration — Urban Adamah, Olamim and PJ Library present Sukkot celebration on the farm with singing in English, Spanish and Hebrew, storytelling and Latin-inspired Sukkah crafts. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 3:15-4:30 p.m. $18 per family. 

Wednesday, October 16

16 Cubits Sukkot Community Dinner — Community dinner and sukkah decorating event to kick off the inaugural 16 Cubits competition, an architectural challenge where teams create innovative sukkah designs using biophilic materials. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 5-8 p.m.$10-$36, sliding scale. 

Sunday, October 20

Sukkot Celebration — Jewish Baby Network event with lulav shaking, singing, schmoozing and celebrating. Bring a blanket. At Congregation Beth El, 1301 Oxford St., Berkeley. 10:30 a.m.-12 p.m. Free. 

Sukkot Festival — Urban Adamah and the 16 Cubits sukkah building competition present Sukkot festival on the farm with workshops and community music jam with Sacred Music Fellowship. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 2-6:30 p.m. Free. 

Family Sukkot Festival — Includes lulav and etrog shaking, wheat grinding, pickle making, multicultural sukkah decorations, Hebrew Sukkot games and more. For families with kids ages 2-8. Presented by JCC East Bay, Camp Tawonga, Eden Village West and Jewish Gateways. At JCC East Bay, 1414 Walnut St., Berkeley. 3-5 p.m. $36 per family. 

Thursday, October 24

Tot Simchat Torah — Urban Adamah, Kehilla Community Synagogue and Chochmat Halev present half-hour Simchat Torah tot service singalongs with guitar, drums, puppets and dancing with scarves. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 5:30-6 p.m. $12-$36, sliding scale. 

Simchat Torah Bash — Urban Adamah, Kehilla Community Synagogue and Chochmat HaLev team up for a multi-generational celebration with music from the Kehilla Klezmer band, puppet show and dancing. Co-sponsored by Aquarian Minyan and Beyt Tikkun. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 5-9:30 p.m. $10-$36, registration required. 

South Bay / Peninsula

Friday, October 18

Fun Friday: Sukkot — PJ Library and Oshman Family JCC present holiday-themed story time, featuring “The Best Sukkot Pumpkin Ever” and paper plate pumpkin craft. At Oshman Family JCC, 3921 Fabian Way, Palo Alto. 4:15-5:15 p.m. Free. 

Sukkot Shabbat Dinner — Joyful Shabbat dinner in the sukkah with music and dancing. In partnership with Camp Tawonga. At Oshman Family JCC, 3921 Fabian Way, Palo Alto. 5:30-7 p.m. $52 family of 4, $22 adults, $14 kids 2–18, free for kids under 2. 

Sleepover in the Sukkah — Overnight program for Hebrew-speaking upper-elementary ages kids with Shabbat service, dinner, Sukkot activity, movie screening, sleeping in the sukkah and breakfast the next morning. At Oshman Family JCC, 3921 Fabian Way, Palo Alto. 6 p.m. Friday-9 a.m. Saturday. $60. 

Saturday, October 19

Tot Shabbat in the Sukkah — Shabbat service with songs, games and food led by guest Jewish educator Mimi Greisman. At Congregation Beth Am, 26790 Arastradero Road, Los Altos Hills. 9:30 a.m. Free, registration required. 

Sunday, October 20

Party in the Sukkah — Jewish Baby Network event with lulav shaking, singing, snacking, crafts, fall-themed play, schmoozing and celebrating. Bring a blanket. At Congregation Beth Jacob, 1550 Alameda de las Pulgas, Redwood City. 3:30-5 p.m. Free. 

Sukkot Fun — PJ Library and Wornick Jewish Day School present hands-on activities like cooking and art for families with kids ages 5 and under. At Wornick Jewish Day School, 800 Foster City Blvd., Foster City. 10-11:30 a.m. Free, RSVP by Oct. 17. 

Marking the end of the annual Torah reading cycle, Simchat Torah is one of the most joyous days on the Jewish calendar. Tradition calls for dancing with Torah scrolls and eating festive meals and sweets.

Filled foods are a hallmark of the holiday, which this year will be observed from sunset Oct. 17 to sunset Oct. 18 (in Israel, and in Reform communities, it’s a day earlier).

In pursuit of tasty treats for such a sweet day, I explored a new cookbook that matches the stories of women in the Talmud with recipes. “Feeding Women of the Talmud, Feeding Ourselves: Uplifting the Voices of Talmudic Heroines and Honoring them with Simple, Vegan Recipes” is by Kenden Alfond, a blogger (“Jewish Food Hero”) who also wrote “Beyond Chopped Liver.”

The new book pairs stories about 69 women from the Talmud (written by female rabbis, educators and others) with mostly vegan recipes (gathered from 129 women who are chefs, food bloggers and home cooks from around the globe).

The recipe below — inspired by the story of a rabbi’s daughter — includes a layer of date caramel and is thus perfect for Simchat Torah. The story, which has inspired rabbinic thought on financially independent women, is about how the daughter’s wedding contract stipulates she retain her own possessions and manage her own finances.

The recipe is by Yaël Alfond-Vincent (Alfond’s Paris-based daughter), and my writeup is adapted for style, space and my experience in making it. Note that the cookies need to chill before being served.

No-Bake Vegan Millionaire Squares

Adapted from “Feeding Women of the Talmud”

• Makes 16 small cookies
• 2 cups almond flour
• ¼ cup plus 1 tsp. coconut oil (see notes)
• 1 Tbs. maple syrup
• ½ tsp. salt
• ½ cup almond or peanut butter (see notes)
• 1 cup pitted dates
• 2 dried figs
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 2 Tbs. fresh lemon juice, plus more if needed
• 12 oz. nondairy semisweet, bittersweet or dark chocolate (see notes)

Line the bottom and sides of a loaf pan (8½-by-4½-by-2½ inches) with a large piece of parchment paper so it’s easy to lift out the squares.

Place almond flour, ¼ cup coconut oil, syrup and salt in the work bowl of a food processor. Process until until paste forms (3 to 5 minutes). Press mixture evenly into the bottom of prepared pan. Smooth with a metal spoon. Refrigerate at least 1 hour.

Once this layer is well chilled, pulse the almond butter, dates, figs, vanilla, lemon juice in the food processor until smooth. Taste and stir in more lemon juice if desired. Evenly spread on top of shortbread with a metal spoon. Wet the back of the spoon with water or additional juice and smooth. Return to fridge for at least 1 hour.

Melt the chocolate: Place chips or broken-up chocolate bars with remaining 1 tsp. coconut oil in small pot over low heat until smooth, stirring occasionally. Pour over the chilled caramel layer, titling the pan so the chocolate spreads evenly. Place pan level in refrigerator overnight. (Can be made 3 days ahead.)

Use the paper to lift the millionaire squares out of the pan in one piece. Cut into 16 pieces with sharp knife. Serve at room temperature. Wrap leftovers individually in plastic and store in refrigerator.

Notes: Use solid, room-temperature coconut oil, which will have a strong coconut taste. If that’s an issue, use triple-refined coconut oil or a non-palm oil solid baking shortening. Choose a nut butter without added oil or sugar. Use vegan chocolate that is 54% to 72% cocoa solids. If using chips, 2 cups equals 12 oz.

The Torah column is supported by a generous donation from Eve Gordon-Ramek in memory of Kenneth Gordon.

Bereishit

Genesis 1:1–6:8

The holiday of Simchat Torah marks the reset of the cycle of Torah portions. The Book of Devarim (Deuteronomy) concludes and the Book of Bereishit (Genesis) begins anew.

This year, because Simchat Torah ended on a Sunday, we have had nearly a week to prepare for the portion of the week; some years, we have to rush due to very few days between Simchat Torah and the next Shabbat.

The storyline in Bereishit is confusing and difficult for us to reconcile with our rational understanding of the universe. The Torah is not meant, however, to be a science or history book. It is meant to be a guide for navigating our course in this world.

Perhaps the extra time we have been granted this year will allow us to delve a little deeper into its messages.

In the narrative of the creation of Adam and Eve, we find that the episode is presented first as an introductory sketch and then repeated with the details and dimensions necessary to foster an understanding of what might have taken place 5,781 years ago.

The first account of creation states, “So God made Man in His image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them” (Genesis 1:27). What does it mean that He created him in the singular if it then goes on to suggest that he created them male and female. Which was it?

It seems that originally man was a composite of a male and female. To this man, it further states that, “God blessed them and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea, the bird of the sky, and every living being that moves on the earth’” (Genesis 1:28).

It seems that Adam and Eve, together, were told that they would rule over all the other creatures.

In the second chapter, we find a detailed account of their creation and their separation. In verse 18, it states, “Hashem, God, said, ‘It is not good for man to be alone; I will make him a helpmate corresponding to him.’” The text then describes the naming of all the animals and then returns to the story of the surgical process of removing a side of Adam to create Eve.

What was so bad about man being alone?

After all, he was a fusion of both masculine and female entities all bound up in one. Why the need for separation? Further, one can ask why the interruption with the naming of the animals?

The classic commentaries have multiple explanations that answer some of these questions. Some of the more contemporary Mussar scholars suggest that what was not good about Man being alone was that he had no opportunity to be a giver. The account of naming the animals suggests that Adam was trying to find opportunities to give to other creatures, but that the giving was not as satisfying an experience.

Ironically, when Adam and Eve were still fused together as one, they were told to be masters over all other creatures. Even when Man was put in a position to give to other beings, it was still considered not good enough. Man needed to have a peer to whom to give. By creating Eve, they each could give to each other in a meaningful way. When there is an imbalance in power, the giving often does not achieve the greatest good.

The Midrash Bereishit Rabba 17:2 suggests that a man who is not married lives without good, and bases it on our verse that says that it is not good for man to be alone.

Giving creates goodness. Without opportunities to give, we are lacking in our capacity to achieve, and also to produce, good.

A few weeks ago, the Yom Kippur service that was recited across the globe harkened back to a depiction of the service performed by the high priest of Israel in the Holy Temple. That service was considered valid only if the high priest was married. So much so, that according to the Mishnah, in the first chapter of Tractate Yoma, they even prepared a bride in waiting in case something should happen to his current wife.

Why the emphasis on marriage as a critical precondition to the holiest service of the year?

For the very same reason. The high priest has to be a giver if he is going to represent the entire Jewish people before God. Giving is not just a good thing to do; it is by very definition good itself.

It’s summer, usually a time for merriment, but not this year. This year, to borrow a bit from Shakespeare, now is the season of our discontent — the long, unrelenting season of Covid-19.

Yet, soon, amid pandemic and economic and political injustice, autumn’s breakneck, breathless season of Jewish renewal and recommitment will arrive. Beginning next month, we will observe Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah.

Since these observations still feel far away, I propose we start the renewal and re-engagement process right now, finding ways — each day — to celebrate our lives. If we don’t, we risk stagnation, discontent and even depression as we mourn lives lost, illness and life plans stymied amid shelter-in-place health requirements and economic hardship.

How to do it, though? “Aye, there’s the rub” — to quote Shakespeare yet again.

In recent days, I admit to succumbing to ennui and sadness. The signs? Overeating, under-exercising, too little work accomplished, too much internal angst and too much staring at the TV.

To prod myself out of my coronavirus blues, I first thought about my tough-as-nails family. I recalled my brilliant Shakespeare-quoting father being forced to quit school in sixth grade to help support his family during the Depression, and my mother’s quiet, enduring mourning for her brother killed in World War II. And I also reflected on the resilience and grace of both parents and my two oldest brothers, who all faced debilitating health problems but still managed to laugh and find joy each day.

Fortified by a strong dose of familial nostalgia, I developed my plan. It was a ridiculously simple one. I wrote out a daily schedule. It wasn’t fancy. It contained no uplifting quotes. It just detailed the basics of day-to-day life. Get up, eat breakfast, do household chores for an hour, write for two hours, exercise, write for another hour, etc.

Again, my simple schedule contained nothing profound. But it built in accountability, and it got me — and kept me — focused. Surprisingly, it also sparked something I hadn’t felt in a while: gratitude, which is something to celebrate in these endless days of sheltering in place, wearing masks and social distancing.

Why did my simple little daily schedule generate these profound feelings of gratitude and celebration?

It did so by reminding me of all I have to be grateful for — good health, a loving family, comfortable surroundings to live and work in, the ability (really the luxury) to be my own boss and set my own schedule for work.

Since part of my newly imposed daily regime includes an hour for study and reflection, I looked up “Judaism and gratitude.” It seems our religion is literally built upon the word gratitude! The original Hebrew word for Jew, Yehudi, is a form of the Hebrew word for thank you — todah.

Daily Jewish prayer opens with Modeh/Modah Ani — a thank you for the opportunity of another day. So much for the much-maligned Jewish guilt! We Jews are much more oriented toward gratitude!

And the Hebrew term for gratitude, hakarat hatov, means, literally, “recognizing the good.” So practicing gratitude means recognizing the good that is already yours, which, of course, brings me back full circle to my simple daily schedule — the one that got me out of my funk.

If a return to basic routines and rituals isn’t enough to help right now, and you need something else to lift your spirits, good news! August is Family Fun Month and also Admit You’re Happy Month.

It’s also National Catfish Month here in the U.S., obviously not so much a Jewish holiday, but maybe the silly thought of it will tide you over till we get into the swing of the Jewish fall holidays. They’re just around the corner.

Appetizers shaped like rolled-up Torah scrolls are an excellent way to celebrate Simchat Torah — and these phyllo-dough treats stuffed with zucchini and feta cheese certainly fit the bill. They’re savory, tasty and a darned cute likeness.

Eating scroll-like or rolled-up foods has become part of the celebration of the holiday, which commemorates the end of the yearly Torah reading cycle and the beginning of the next. Simchat Torah this year will begin on the evening of Monday, Oct. 21 and end after sunset the next day; Reform Jews and Jews within Israel celebrate it a day earlier.

The baked pastries in this recipe are a variation of the Sephardic and Mizrachi phyllo dough appetizers known as “cigars” … but for Simchat Torah, the flaky cylinders are standing in for Torah scrolls.

Phyllo dough is available in many markets, often in the freezer section. Phyllo freezes well so save extra sheets for another recipe.

These rolls are best eaten within hours of baking, but can be reheated in a 250-degree oven on an ungreased baking sheet for 10 minutes, or until flaky and warmed. If refrigerated, bring to room temperature before heating.

Zucchini-Feta Rolls

Makes 16 to 18

• 8 oz. feta cheese (not crumbled)
• 2 cups, packed, shredded zucchini
• ⅛ tsp. salt plus as needed
• 2 Tbs. finely chopped green onion
• 1 Tbs. finely chopped dill
• 1 Tbs. finely chopped flat leaf parsley
• 1 Tbs. finely chopped fresh mint
• ¼ tsp. crumbled, dried mint
• ¼ tsp. paprika
• ¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
• 1 large egg, beaten
• 1-lb. box phyllo dough sheets (about 9-by-14 inches), defrosted according to package directions
• ½ cup oil
• Dip (see below), optional

Taste the feta. If it is overwhelming salty, rinse in cold water then soak in cold water for several hours, changing water periodically and rinsing again before using. Pat feta dry. Cut into ¼-inch pieces. Set aside.

Put shredded zucchini in strainer over bowl. Stir in ⅛ tsp. salt. Let sit 20 minutes. Squeeze zucchini to press out as much liquid as possible. Discard liquid. Combine feta cheese and zucchini. Mash well. Mix in green onion, dill, parsley, fresh mint, dried mint, paprika, pepper and zest. Taste. Most likely it will be salty enough from the feta, but add salt to taste, if needed. Mix in egg.

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. Open phyllo box. Remove 10 sheets and keep covered with a damp kitchen towel. Rewrap remainder and freeze for future use.

Lay out 1 phyllo sheet flat on work surface, leaving rest covered. Brush with oil (sheet should be covered but not saturated). Top with second sheet. If there are any tears, mend by brushing oil on tear and pressing edges together. For larger rips, brush with oil and top with a scrap of phyllo. Cut into 4 equal rectangles.

Put 1 Tbs. of feta-zucchini filling about ¾ of an inch from the short edge of one of the rectangles, leaving a ½-inch margin from each side of the rectangle. Roll bottom of dough up over filling. Roll once more until filling is covered by the phyllo. At that point, stop rolling and fold in the sides of the phyllo rectangle. Then continue rolling until a cylinder is formed. Place phyllo roll seam side down on prepared baking sheet. Repeat with remaining ingredients.

Brush top and sides of phyllo rolls well with oil. Bake about 25 minutes until golden brown. Serve hot, warm or at room temperature with dip.

Dip: Combine 1 cup plain Greek yogurt with 2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest, ¼ tsp. paprika or cayenne, 2 Tbs. finely chopped dill, 2 Tbs. finely chopped fresh mint and 1 tsp. crumbled dried mint.

Bereishit

Genesis 1:1-6:8

Isaiah 42:5-43:10

“Bereisheit bara Elohim.” These are the first three words of the Torah, which we begin reading again this week: “In the beginning, God created.”

This week, we roll the Torah all the way back to the beginning of beginnings, to the first event in the Torah: creation. Acting out of some desire or impulse, God dives deep into the tohu v’vohu, the depths of primordial chaos, and creates — separating light and dark, dividing waters, shifting land and seas, appointing celestial beings, forming plants and animals, and fashioning human beings.

The opening chapter of Bereisheit creates a powerful case for creativity: We are all creative, we are created to create and our creating creates the world. It is this case for creativity that forms the basis for our work at the Jewish Studio Project and, we believe, that has the power to revitalize the Jewish experience.

“Bereisheit bara Elohim.” God is, first and foremost, a Creator. The Torah begins with these words to teach us that the fundamental nature of the Divine is to be creative. Later in the Torah portion, we learn that human beings are created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. By linking these two concepts, we formulate the powerful idea that humans are made to be creators. Creativity is inherent in each and every one of us. It is imbued in us from the very beginning. It is a foundational aspect of what it means to be human and an essential pathway to connection with the Divine.

We live in a society in which, as Lesley University professor Shaun McNiff writes, “a pervasive sense that creative expression is restricted to an anointed group.” Separating us further from our creative instincts are social and professional pressures that inhibit us as we grow older. These pressures reduce our comfort with risk-taking and our willingness to be vulnerable, key building blocks of creative expression.

Bereisheit (also the Hebrew name of Book of Genesis) provides a theological framework that both models and democratizes creativity. Regardless of whether or not you consider yourself an artist or “the creative type,” Genesis reminds us that we all possess inherent creativity. This means that each of us has the ability to imagine, to play with the raw material of our lives, to see things in a new light and to wrestle with the stuck places within us. As beings made in the image of the Divine, we are given the license and the tools to emulate the creative process illustrated in Bereisheit: to explore, create, behold and praise.

Bereisheit teaches us not only about the origin of creativity, but also about the role of the creative process. Creativity, as enacted in these verses, is the Divine’s way of bringing more goodness into the world. After each act of creation, the text reads, “vayar Elohim ki tov” — “and God saw that it was good.” Creativity is a way of making sense of the chaos and darkness, of manifesting new ways of seeing and being, and a means of bringing more goodness into the world, for ourselves and for all of creation.

When creativity is activated, good things happen: hearts open, we can connect to one another in deep and authentic ways, and we can discover new insights about our lives and the world around us. When we bring our creativity to Judaism, we are able to truly claim our role as the inheritors and innovators of today, adding our unique voices and diverse perspectives in a way that renews our living tradition for ourselves and our community.

In the morning prayer service we say, “Mechadeish b’chol yom tamid ma’asei bereisheit” — God creates daily and renews constantly the work of creation. As humans made in the Divine image, we are invited into the ongoing process of creation. As we start the Torah cycle over again this week, may we be reminded of the power and potential of the creative process to renew us and our Judaism. And may our creativity enable us to create a world that is evermore ki tov.

Dear Dawn: I have always loved Christmas, especially the crafts that I make for the holiday. I create home decorations from candles to toys to table centerpieces, and I also love to make my own Christmas cards. My Jewish fiance is OK with me decorating for Thanksgiving but is uncomfortable with my ideas for Christmas. I’m willing to try to invest some time in Hanukkah crafts, but I just don’t see many that appeal to me. Can you help me figure out how to be able to practice my hobbies without upsetting my relationship? — Crafty Gal

Dear Crafty: Let me assure you that you are not alone. Crafting is one of the most popular hobbies in America, and in fact crafting is actually good for you! Christmas is the No. 1 money-making holiday in America, so don’t expect its omnipresence to diminish. Christmas season arrives in late September and lasts through January. During this time dogs become Christmas dogs, trains become Christmas trains, etc.

Many people love the holiday simply because it is imbued with stimuli to our senses. Christmas smells good, tastes good, sounds good, looks good and feels good. Then layer those senses over years of memories and you have the Superman of holidays. For the vast majority of Americans, Christmas is a time of familiar memories. Everyone has rituals that are meaningful, whether it’s going to church or leaving cookies for Santa. In your case, it’s crafting. The holiday gives you reasons to sew, embroider, bake, make cards and so on.

In trying to be sensitive to your partner, you are facing the problem of unfortunate timing. The excitement of multiple fall Jewish holidays ends in October, and there’s a dry spell until Hanukkah. The rabbis sometimes refer to this period of time, the month of Cheshvan, the bitter month. Just as Judaism is getting quiet, Christianity and American culture are charging up. Starting with Halloween and continuing through Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s, America is in full holiday mode. There is a visible effort made to build up Hanukkah so that this little David can match Goliath, but it’s no contest.

You and your fiancé will need to seek a compromise. But first you must articulate what you desire. I want you to find concrete ways of expressing your crafting joy so that your fiancé can better understand what motivates and excites you. Otherwise he will probably keep saying no to Christmas because he doesn’t feel comfortable with it.

Crafty, we’re going to take a two-pronged approach. First, let’s look at crafty options that could appeal to him.

Hanukkah crafts are out there. Take a look at Pinterest. I’m not as organized as I should be, so I have both a Crafty Ideas board and a Hanukkah board. There are home decorations galore; see if any appeal to you. These are ideas that should absolutely work for your Jewish sweetheart.

Second, look at what you already have and see if it could be modified to be “wintery” instead of specifically Christmasy. If you love to twist a garland on your banister because it smells good and evokes the holiday, how about decorating it with some shiny dreidel crafts? A woman I know has a beautiful winter scene with trees and deer all made of wood that she puts on her mantle. She’s Jewish and does this for her Catholic husband who grew up with a crèche. I know another woman who repurposes all of her animal-shaped cookie cutters from tree decorations to either Sukkah decorations or uses the animal cookies for a special treat on the Shabbat of Parashat Noah.

Finally, Hanukkah doesn’t have the cachet of Christmas, so it may not be enough for your crafting needs. So branch out. Look into craft options for Purim, Passover, Sukkot and Shabbat all year-round.

According to tradition, the Torah has 70 faces. We reread it each year in, hoping a new face will be revealed. Its words don’t change, but we do. Who will we be this year, and which face will the Torah show us? Simchat Torah is our first opportunity in the year to begin finding out, as we read the final portion of the Torah, immediately followed by the first, and the annual cycle starts all over again.

But what happens when you’ve been round more than 70 times? How many things has the Torah been to our elders?

In search of an answer to that lofty question, I attended Simchat Torah morning services this year at The Reutlinger Community, a bright and friendly Jewish senior living facility in Danville. I came up with no answer, as I was immediately sidetracked by the personalities and proceedings.

I was joined by my friend and frequent Jew in the Pew companion, professor Rachel Gross of S.F. State Jewish studies department.

We took seats next to a woman named Doris Langer. Effusive at our mere presence, she endeared herself to us immediately. She was overflowing with fun facts about her fellow residents and amusing asides about the goings-on (some of which we heard more than once, but who’s counting). Doris is at least as inveterate a shul talker as I, both delighted and bemused by the proceedings.

At one point, during a rabbinic platitude about the Torah, Doris turned to us with a devious smirk and exaggeratedly mimed the universal gesture for “Feh!”

The service was led by Reutlinger’s Rabbi Debora Kohn, along with singer and guitarist Achi Ben Shalom, who often provides music for services at Reutlinger. Rather than meet in the Reutlinger synagogue, we met in a common space on the first floor of assisted living. (No room for dancing in the shul, Kohn told me.) There were about two dozen residents in attendance, enjoying varying states of mobility. Everyone sat in a big oval with plenty of space for dancing in the middle.

After a brief shacharit (morning service), Kohn said a few words about the fires raging to the north. “Our community has brought here into skilled nursing people who were evacuated from their nursing homes,” she said. “This is what we do as Jews; we walk the walk, instead of talking the talk.”

Kohn constantly bounced around the room, dancing with residents and orchestrating on the fly who should be given the honor of which hakafah. The hakafot are the centerpiece of Simchat Torah: seven circuits of the room holding and dancing with the Torah. Each honoree moseyed around at whatever pace they could muster, assisted by Reutlinger staffer Nonnie Fluss, whom Kohn appropriately declared “the Holy Shlepper.”

As each hakafah proceeded, Ben Shalom led synagogue classics that some might call stuffy — though I prefer to think of them as tunes that no longer get the respect they deserve. Think Mi Piel and Torah, Torah, Torah.

Most hakafot consisted of two residents and an aide gingerly and deliberately dancing their way around the oval. The aide carried the Torah on behalf of the honoree, offering each person in the circle the opportunity to kiss the Torah. Rachel and one woman’s younger relatives danced energetically in a circle a couple times.

For a section of Hebrew to be read before the start of the hakafot, Kohn came across the room to Henry Drejer, a man sitting on the other side of Doris from us.

“What?” he asked. “I want you to read this,” she said, placing before him a large-print copy of Siddur Sim Shalom. As soon as he saw the text, he lit right up. With no warning and with a voice only slightly diminished by age, he began belting it out in classic hazzanut (the melodies and performative style of old-school cantors AKA hazzans).

Henry turned out to be the star of the show. A Holocaust survivor born in prewar Germany, Henry eventually came to San Francisco, where he was for 38 years the cantor at B’nai Emunah, a congregation founded by German survivors.

Henry’s hazzanut is of a type one rarely hears in American synagogues today. Over time, our sense of nusach (the cycle of melodies and modes that are the bedrock of hazzanut), has been flattened, robbed of the regional variation it once had in Europe.

But not Henry. His delivery was from an age when one could expect subtle and not-so-subtle variations in traditional tunes from shul to shul, cantor to cantor, region to region.

Thankfully, Kohn would return the microphone to him a few more times that morning. Each time, he beamed.

“He’s great fun,” Doris told us, an ever-present twinkle in her eye. As if we couldn’t tell!

Later, during the Torah reading, Henry exclaimed “Oy vey!” when the chanting wasn’t up to snuff. (He did so somewhat louder than I imagine he intended to — or maybe not.)

Rightly so, Kohn was constantly in fear for everyone’s safety. She cares deeply for them. Mortality and aging are squeamish topics for us — to serve as a rabbi in a setting like this is brave and truly holy work.

Each time she called someone up, she would exhort everyone to have fun, but to be safe — “Don’t get up and dance unless you can do it safely!” When she called Henry up to do a hakafah, she shouted across the room at him: “Lo ratzim!” — “No running!”

But Kohn also heaped praise on him. He’d only been at Reutlinger a few months, but people had clearly grown quite fond of him. “I can let him take over services and it will be even better,” she said. (And why not? I hope she is making appropriate use of Henry’s skills on a weekly basis.)

Of course, the next time she turned around, Henry was terrifying everyone by bending his knees and shimmying toward to the floor while still grasping his walker. Kohn practically had a heart attack. “I’m dancing!” Henry proclaimed with a note of exasperation.

The service concluded with Shehecheyanu, a blessing that thanks God for helping us to reach a milestone or a time of joy. “We made it!” Kohn proclaimed.

Then she announced that there would be regular Shabbat services the following morning. Doris turned to Rachel and I one more time: “Tomorrow? Ehh, no one will come.”

Eyeing the empty seats before services began, Rabbi Ted Feldman was a little worried.

It was the evening of Oct. 11, and just two hours earlier he’d alerted members of B’nai Israel Jewish Center that the Petaluma Police Department had issued an advisory: Prepare to evacuate. Winds were expected to intensify and shift direction, and the raging wildfires to the north could easily turn on Petaluma.

For a while he wondered if his message “might have scared some people” from coming. But then, slowly and steadily, worshippers trickled in. Young and old, singles and couples, people from his independent congregation and from Ner Shalom, a Reconstructionist shul 12 miles north in Cotati, filled nearly all of the 50 seats.

They came to celebrate Simchat Torah, which began at sunset — to hold the cherished scrolls, to sing, dance and pray — but they also came to seek solace. Every person there was touched in some way by the horrendous inferno still raging uncontrolled in Santa Rosa, Napa and the surrounding areas.

One woman feared that she’d lost her job because her employer was burned out. Another was safe in west Petaluma, but had taken in her friend’s six llamas and flock of chickens. Several people already had begun packing their possessions in case they had to evacuate.

Ner Shalom’s Reb Irwin Keller, who co-led services with Feldman, himself had evacuated from his home. His synagogue sheltered nine suddenly homeless families on Oct. 8, the first night of the fire, and continued to provide refuge for those fleeing the relentless flames.

“People have brought mattresses, pillows, food,” Keller said. They were sleeping in the sanctuary and in classrooms. Given the latest “red flag” fire alert, he added, “We might leave our Torahs in the car tonight.” Just in case.

Though originally planned to celebrate Simchat Torah, marking the annual completion of the Torah reading, the service also became a source of comfort and healing.

We are not the first generation of Jews who have observed Simchat Torah in a time of danger.

As he opened the evening, Feldman said, “This is a different kind of chag sameach, of course, with what’s happening in the world around us. It’s strange coming together at Simchat Torah like this, with our world in turmoil.”

Keller reminded the crowd, “We are not the first generation of Jews who have observed Simchat Torah in a time of danger.” Our ancestors also faced grave situations, he said, “and still they came together” to sing and dance.

The service began on a subdued note, as Keller led worshippers in singing Shiviti (Psalm 16:8), translated on a handout sheet as “I am equanimous. Yah is before me always.”

In other words, Keller said, “Let yourself be calm.”

Then, picking up his guitar, and with musicians from Ner Shalom playing quietly in the background, Keller led the singing of other prayerful songs, such as “Brokenhearted” (Psalm 147:3-4; Numbers 12:13) and Ana B’Choach, which begins “Source of Mercy, With loving strength, untie our tangles … Lord, keep us safe …”

Afterward, Keller asked people to rise as three Torahs were sent around the room, telling everyone, “Take whatever time you need to be with the Torah.”

He added: “We’re all in need of healing — in body and in spirit. In the days ahead, if you have to take shelter in the world, may you also take shelter … in the wings of God. We as Jews have the privilege this evening to celebrate Torah — the gift of it.”

And ever so quickly, the mood changed. Musicians picked up their instruments for a rousing rendition of “Hava Nagila,” people jumped to their feet and the dancing began.

Amid the joyous singing, dancing and clapping, spirits lifted and fire worries receded — at least for a while.

One of these days, maybe ahead of Simchat Torah, you are going to attend a Jewish studies class. Or not. But let’s say you do.

You’ll sit in a classroom, or a lounge, or in the front row of a synagogue. There will be a teacher, and he or she will pass around a stapled packet of papers — maybe two sheets, maybe five — with various biblical verses, Talmudic excerpts, examples of Jewish law and perhaps a snippet of a contemporary essay or a quote from Martin Buber or Hannah Arendt.

I want to talk about these sheets, why they may be uniquely Jewish, and why they may be the most important and ubiquitous example of Jewish educational technology that you probably take for granted — or never heard of.

The packets are known as source sheets, and they’ve been with us since … well, at least since the widespread use of the mimeograph machine in the 1950s. Before that, rabbis or teachers might quote from a pile of Jewish books they kept in front of them, and perhaps refer students to a similar pile on their desks.

But once teachers could cheaply copy fragments of Jewish text, and cut and paste them in any order they wished, the source sheet became a tool for flexibility, convenience and ingenuity in the Jewish classroom. And their current dominance is an example of how technology transformed tradition — and continues to do so in the digital age.

“When you are weaving together different threads from different texts composed during vastly different times and places, the best way is to pull excerpts from different texts,” said Sara Wolkenfeld, director of education at Sefaria.org. “There is an art form to it. The way you pull and combine helps express the story you want to tell in the class you are teaching.”

Sefaria, a nimble online database of Jewish texts in both their original language and in translation, is rapidly becoming the red-hot center of the source sheet universe — which, I assure you, is a thing. Since Sefaria was founded in 2013, over 12,000 people have made some 74,000 source sheets using the site’s handy source sheet builder. Of those, 7,200 of their creations are available online. (Disclosure: Daniel Septimus, one of Sefaria’s founders, sits on the board of 70 Faces Media, JTA’s parent company.)

And the range of subjects is testament not only to the depth of the Jewish canon but to the breadth of Jewish obsessions. There are sheets for lessons on sex, death, love, money, family strife and sibling rivalry, Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. For Simchat Torah, which begins this year on the evening of Oct. 12, there’s a sheet on the rules about women dancing with a Torah scroll. There’s even a sheet about whether or not Jews should take part in Halloween.

Other sites share their source sheets online. The Shamayim V’Aretz Institute posts sheets on animal welfare. American Jewish World Service offers material on social action. The Orthodox NCSY youth group has sheets on a range of topics.

Rabbi Dan Epstein, the senior Jewish educator at the George Washington University Hillel, refers to creating a source sheet as an art form. Epstein should know: He’s shared nearly 100 source sheets on Sefaria, and they’ve been viewed collectively over 72,000 times.

To teach a lesson on Jewish views on the afterlife, for example, he might include verses from the Bible; selections from the Mishna or Gemara (the two layers of the Talmud); perspectives from the medieval sages Maimonides and Saadia Gaon about the soul and reincarnation; and a teshuvah, or rabbinical ruling, from the 20th-century Modern Orthodox authority Rabbi Moshe Feinstein. These would form the basis for a guided classroom discussion, perhaps after the student had a chance to review the material and a few key questions in chevruta — that is, in pairs or small groups — a staple of yeshiva education going back centuries.

Epstein might not get to every text in a lesson, but that’s OK.

“The lesson is like a concert, and the source sheet is more like a set list,” he explained. “You’ll get to it, but maybe you’ll cancel some songs or just play a few of the longer songs.”

The key, he said, is knowing your audience — the languages they understand, their level of knowledge and their interests.

“You need to make the student feel connected and touch the head and the heart and the hand,” Epstein said. “And not just teach them new info, but teach them to do something. That’s what I based my lessons around.”

Rabbis and teachers have always done this kind of layered Jewish teaching, building an argument or lesson out of centuries of Jewish writing on a topic the way a geologist describes a mountain by pointing to the layers of rock beneath the surface. But the source sheet revolutionized Jewish learning by making sure every student was literally on the same page.

Many educators credit Nechama Leibowitz, a legendary Israeli teacher, with popularizing and democratizing Torah study in Israel with the distribution of her mimeographed work sheets, or gilyonot. Sent to subscribers by mail between 1941 and 1971 (and later collected between hard covers), Leibowitz’s work sheets offered Torah verses and rabbinic commentary, and questions quizzing students on the connections between them.

Leibowitz, who was teaching nearly up to the moment she died in 1997 at age 92, would comment on the students’ answers and mail them back.

Barry Holtz, the Theodore and Florence Baumritter Professor of Jewish Education at The Jewish Theological Seminary, remembers learning Torah from original texts and all-Hebrew textbooks in the 1950s at Congregation Kehillath Israel in Brookline, Massachusetts. But the assistant rabbi there, Joseph Lukinsky, introduced new ways to teach his Hebrew school classes.

“He was an incredibly creative young rabbi, maybe ahead of the curve,” Holtz recalled. “He must have been one of the first people to introduce a tikkun leyl Shavuot” — an all-night study session on the spring holiday of Shavuot — “outside of the Orthodox world, in 1962, just for the teenagers.

“It’s weird that I can remember this, but he had created a packet I suspect is someplace in a closet in my house, with texts that we studied all night long, and the title was ‘Gods Jews have known, and Jews God has known.’ It was so radical and amazing and interesting at the time.”

Lukinsky, before his death in 2009 at 78, was a revered professor of education at JTS.

Source sheets have spread to all the Jewish movements, and to classrooms where the often esoteric Talmudic texts and medieval commentaries may be daunting or unfamiliar.

“I am a lover of rabbinic text — particularly in the Reform movement that often finds it less accessible,” said Rabbi Sari Laufer, director of congregational engagement at the Stephen Wise Temple in Los Angeles. “People aren’t as familiar [with Talmud or rabbinic text] or feel that it is not ours in some way. I am very committed to using and unlocking a lot of rabbinic text.”

A prolific poster to Sefaria, Laufer has created source sheets on work-life balance, the theology of food and seduction, and the imagery of darkness in Jewish thought, among many others.

Working though the multiple layers of Jewish learning, she said, “grounds us in an entire history — a great reminder that questions we think of as modern are questions people have been asking for thousands of years with incredible insight.”

And sometimes a list of sources can be a powerful tool for conversation — and even change.

The lesson is like a concert, and the source sheet is more like a set list.

Abby Stein, a transgender activist and teacher who grew up in a prominent Hasidic family in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn uses a source sheet in classes she teaches on Judaism and gender. The sheet, titled “Changing the Conversation: Jewish-Gender IS Queer … and Feminist,” is available on Sefaria and linked to her Facebook page.

“After everything I had done to enrage the Hasidic community, the most negative, most hate I ever got was for that Torah sheet — not media, not transitioning, but for publishing that source sheet,” Stein recalled. “It threatens them the most because it is using their own text.

“Usually they are very dismissive. Here when I show them a text from a Hasidic rabbi saying a man [can be] in the wrong body, or from Zohar saying an ideal person has to balance femininity and masculinity at all times, or a wife can’t have kids because she is a male, they can’t just dismiss it as B.S.”

Sefaria is trying to chart a future for a study tool that is itself the product of a mid-20th century information revolution. Its library of online source sheets is interactive — that is, every source on a sheet links to the database of myriad Jewish texts.

“When you put a bunch of sources on paper, the audience can only see what’s on the sheet,” Wolkenfeld said.

Using the database, however, “you are in control of the story. You can open up a chapter and see the larger context,” she said. “From three commentaries I can navigate to 10 others.”

And if students have tablets or laptops, they can do all that exploring during the lesson itself.

Holtz warns that if there is a downside to the source sheet, it’s the temptation by a teacher to pick and choose from the wide and woolly corpus of Jewish text to prove a dubious point.

“Some would argue … that you don’t cherry-pick,” said Holtz, who wrote a popular beginner’s guide to studying Jewish text, “Back to the Sources.” “And Jewish study according to this argument should not be about all the good parts or the cool parts or obviously meaningful parts, but you should work hard through all the parts as you encounter them.”

And as seductive a tool as source sheets can be, many teachers don’t want them seen as substitutes for the real thing.

“A source sheet, as critical as it is, it is a tool but no replacement for the text in the original,” said Tzvi Sinensky, the rosh beit midrash, or dean of Jewish learning, at the Kohelet Yeshiva High School in suburban Philadelphia. “We want our students engaging with the original texts and have the skills to parse the Gemara — not to know about the text, but to know it.”

The source sheets Sinensky has posted to Sefaria have been viewed nearly 95,000 times.

Adding a little chocolate to your celebration of Simchat Torah is sure to increase the sweetness of the holiday, which marks the conclusion of Torah readings for the year and the beginning of a new cycle.

This year, the holiday starts at sundown Oct. 12 outside of Israel, and the evening before in Israel. Wherever you are, you can be sure there will be lots of dancing and singing with the Torah scrolls.

One popular custom nowadays is offering something sweet to reflect the “sweetness” of the Torah. Perhaps this is based on an old Ashkenazi custom of giving children a bit of honey on their first day of studying Torah so they would associate the treat with learning.

I have found two fun-to-make treats in “The Modern Jewish Table,” a new cookbook by two self-described British “Jewish Princesses” (Tracey Fine and Georgie Tarn). In offering up 100 kosher recipes from around the globe, Fine and Tarn take a light-hearted approach and aim to simplify preparation. Many Jewish standards are included, some with a twist, such as “Street Food Gefilte Fish Bites.” Recipes are infused with touches from Britain, Vietnam, Italy, the Middle East and elsewhere.

Here are two of the book’s dessert recipes, adapted for style and to reflect my experience making them.

“Nutella” Cookies

Adapted from “The Modern Jewish Table”

Makes 32 cookies

1½ cups ground almonds
½ cup light muscovado sugar (see notes)
3 Tbs. Nutella, or other chocolate-hazelnut or chocolate-almond spread
1 large egg, beaten

Heat oven to 325 degrees. Line baking trays with parchment paper. In bowl, mix almonds, sugar, chocolate spread and egg until a thick, smooth paste is formed.

Take a measuring teaspoon full of batter and roll into a ball. Place on baking tray, leaving room between cookies.

Bake about 10-15 minutes until puffed and the top springs back when touched. Cool in pan for 2 minutes, remove to rack. Cool completely. Cookies firm as they cool. Store airtight.

Notes: Muscovado sugar is partially unrefined sugar with molasses in it; I substituted light brown sugar. Also, I slathered additional chocolate spread on the flat side of cooled cookies and topped each with another (flat side down) to make cookie sandwiches.

Rock on Rocky Road

Adapted from “The Modern Jewish Table”

Makes about 30 pieces

7 oz. graham crackers (see notes)
4½ oz. butter, softened
10½ oz. dark chocolate, broken into pieces
5 Tbs. golden syrup (see notes)
6 oz. mini marshmallows
3½ oz. shelled, salted peanuts
Confectioners sugar, for dusting

Line an 8-by-8-inch rimmed baking pan (at least 2 inches deep) with plastic wrap, making sure wrap comes up and over all sides. Put crackers in a heavy plastic bag. Seal. Bash with a rolling pin until most are bite sized. Combine butter, chocolate and golden syrup in a heavy sauce pan. Melt, stirring occasionally.

Place half of the graham crackers and half the marshmallows in a bowl. Pour half of the melted chocolate over and mix well. Add in peanuts, remaining crackers, marshmallows and chocolate. Stir well, making sure everything is well coated. Pour into pan, spreading out with the back of a large spoon. Refrigerate 4 hours or overnight. Cut into squares with sharp knife. Turn out of pan. Dust with sieved confectioners sugar. Wrap pieces in wax paper. Store airtight in refrigerator.

Notes: As a variation, I used half the graham crackers and added a half cup of dried, pitted sweet cherries. Golden syrup is sugar cane syrup available from some specialty stores. I substituted light corn syrup.