Blue Ribbon and Memory.

This has nothing to do with Kadima.

Two days ago, I learned that I won First Place in the Cookies/Biscotti contest at the 2009 Los Angeles County Fair. I saw the display last night, and there it was, my mandelbread on a plate, with a blue ribbon next to it. I am very pleased.

I used my late mother's mandelbread recipe, so really I share the honor with her. I was shocked to have won; the competition is often fierce in these contests with the usual suspects often taking home most of the ribbons.

The mandelbread was my Mom's signature dish, and one that everyone loved. We even referenced it on her memorial plaque. When I started baking as a hobby several years ago, I refused to make the mandelbread, even though my Mom gladly shared the recipe with anyone who asked. It was her dish, and hers alone.

When she suddenly passed away in March, 2008, we were going through her house and I found her recipe trove. My Mom was many wonderful things, but she was not particularly organized. So there were scraps of papers everywhere. Strangely, only a few weeks before she died, I asked her where her recipes were, and she said that they were in an overstuffed book "on the shelf." After her passing, I miraculously found the "Book", and in it was the mandelbread recipe. There was a scrap of oil stained legal paper, in my Mom's handwriting, containing the recipe. It was the primary source document.

The first time I made the recipe it did not come out right. My Mom's instructions were vague and somewhat unclear. I thought I'd never be able to replicate it. It was only when I realized that I had to mix everything by hand, and not by standmixer was I successful. I made the recipe, and sure enough, the flavor and texture was perfect--just how I remembered it. My Mom often brought the mandelbread when she visited someone's house (her doctors at City of Hope called her the "Cookie Lady" because she always brought mandelbread to her appointments) and she would routinely give us tubs full of the stuff. Having the mandelbread in our house was a way of knowing that she was with us.

Now that she's gone, I've made the mandelbread and several other recipes that she used to make. In doing so, we not only honor her memory, but she remains a "tasty" part of our lives. Food can do this. It can trigger deep memories in special ways. The mandelbread does this, as do a few other of my Mom's baked goods. So does my wife's chicken soup.

While I am ecstatic at winning the competition, the victory really is a tribute to my Mom, Sandra Sholkoff. Although she is gone, her recipes and baking lives on.

May her memory always be for a blessing.

I'll be back next week with some more news about Kadima.

Shabbat Shalom.