Archeologists conducting excavations of early Iron Age Israel have long noted something interesting—unlike those of their neighbors, the settlements of the ancient Israelites don’t offer any evidence that their diet included pig.
It’s a fascinating find. Independent historical evidence for Yetsiyas Mitzraim is scant at best. From archaeological sources, we can’t prove that the Torah was given at Har Sinai. But we can say that three thousand years ago, our ancestors were following at least one mitzvah. Over the years, particularly among Ashkenazim (in the Muslim world, pig wasn’t as big an issue anyway), avoiding pig flesh became a hallmark of Jewish behavior and Jewish identity.
It was thus with a considerable amount of distaste that I came upon “The Treyfster,” the Jewish Daily Forward’s new food column celebrating the consumption of forbidden foods.
To be sure, The Treyfster is hardly the first Jew to celebrate a dubious diet.
In 1885, at the notorious “Trefa Banquet,” the Reform movement celebrated the Hebrew Union College’s first graduating class by hosting a lavish affair featuring a full panoply of forbidden foods, including clams, crab and shrimp (even then, though, pig was off the menu). Jewish socialists held Yom Kippur balls where they didn’t just eat, they ate treyf. And it wasn’t just treyf, it was chazer treyf. So in this regard, the Treyfster is hardly original.
That said, however, there is a big difference between the Treyfster and his or her pig-preferring predecessors. Say what you will about them, they at least were eating treyf as part of something greater. Agree or disagree with what they were attempting to do, they saw their treyf consumption as part of a larger transformation of Jewish culture. In that regard, it’s fair to say that their actions were, if unfortunate, in their own way, Jewish. When the Treyfster tucks into a plate of pork, however, he’s not indulging anything other than his own appetite, which would be fine, except that The Forward has also given him a platform to indulge his ego.
And that’s the thing that I find so troublesome about the Treyfster. I am glad we live in a tolerant society where we can do whatever we want, and where the Treyfster can eat whatever he wants. But when the Treyfster writes:
I’ve come to accept with some relief that the negotiation with treyf, the experience of eating it all for the first time, the savoring of new tastes and thinking about what they mean to me, well, who am I kidding? This eating non-Jewish foods — it’s just so Jewish.
I have to say enough, already. There is a real problem in the Jewish world, and that is the tendency to imbue everything Jews do with some Jewish significance, as if the very fact that a Jew does it means that it suddenly becomes “Jewish.” Well guess what, it doesn’t.
A Jew eating bacon is no more Jewishly profound than a Jew shooting skeet. Indeed, it is less so, because—and big shocker here—we live in an age in which eating treyf is really not terribly unusual or radical—all it is is unJewish. Not “so unJewish as to be Jewish.” Just plain old boring unJewish.
My friends who went to Catholic school ate pork. My buddies in the US Army at pork. When I walk through Chinatown on the way to the train station, I see lots and lots of people eating pork. I’ve seen it, I’ve been around it, and I have to tell you, it really isn’t all that interesting. Much less so, let’s say, than playing the accordion, and arguably less Jewish as well (try and play a porkchop in a klezmer band).
Don’t get me wrong, I read the Forward every Shabbos morning and have been a subscriber for nearly 20 years. But if the Forward finds this sort of thing compelling, why stop at treyf? There’s a whole array of fascinating columns the Forward can run:
The Mixster—The columnist comes to understand the divine dichotomy of God and Shekhina through the wearing of shatnez
The Covetster—The columnist spends a year violating the 10th Commandment. What could be more Jewish than dissatisfaction?
The Seethester—A spin-off of the Treyfster, the columnist recounts his culinary adventures seething kids in the milk of their mother, and comes to appreciate his own mother in the process, thus truly embracing the 5th commandment.
The Flickster—The columnist explores what it means to flick lights on and off on Shabbos, thus truly appreciating the meaning of “yehi or.”
The Shickster—I would write this one, as I discover whether or not there really is no simcha without wine, or if beer would work just as well.
I could go on, but well, who am I kidding? This cutting the column short—it’s just so Jewish.
