New-fangled Boerum Hill deli, run by a Montreal couple, takes aim at excesses of genre.
Special To The Jewish Week
Walking into Brooklyn’s newest Jewish deli for the first time, Ken Goeringer sees two mothers chatting at a table, a pair of art students with a splay of sketchpads arranged around their plates and a man in a shirt and tie looking up from his library book to balance a few bites of brisket-covered poutine (a decadent marriage of frites, cheese curd and gravy) on a fork.
Robert I. Friedman was a Jew. That inconvenient fact may have stopped fanatics like the extremist settlers who once beat him up on the West Bank from doing much worse, due to their concern about religious proscriptions against killing a fellow Jew. At one point, rumors circulated on the West Bank that he was not, in fact, Jewish. Robbie feared they were started by individuals who sought to remove for themselves this barrier to his elimination.
I often think I should have jumped into the lake after him.
My son was 12 years old at the time, leaning a bit too far out when he cast his fishing rod. Maybe he did it on purpose.
When Zachary hit the lake he was only a foot from the boat dock, in water barely over his head, and easily within reach for me to pull him back up. There was no current, and with his swimming skills, he probably could have chosen to do a few laps to the floating dock and back, fully clothed, before he climbed out of the water.