Just look at them. Those cheese-laden comestibles, resting in a nourishing bath of oil on teflon, preparing to burst forth with palate-melting, fatty goodness. Can you resist? Well, yes, you can. But only because this is but a digitized image you can't wrap your fingers around and swallow whole. But it does leave ya craving, doesn't it? Makes you remember the warm, fried scent of your bubbie's or zaide's kitchen during Chanukah. Bowls of chilled sour cream awaiting release from their fridges, longing to be paired with their heated, crepe-like food allies. Bet your mind is now a steady drone of Homer Simpson-esque, "Mmmmm... Blintzes." Yeah, mine too. Wish I wasn't lactose intolerant.
So why blintzes? Because they're at once a symbol of the old world and the new. A delicacy forged in the annals of Eastern European cuisine, but perfected (in my humble opinion), by immigrant Jews who settled on new shores and looked to food as a source of comfort and nostalgia when all around them was hardship and struggle. Like the Jewish people, the blintz has persevered, handed down in sacred recipe rituals from generation to generation. A survivor.
Like our parents and grandparents before us, blintzes adapted. Evolving into new and glorious shapes and tastes over the years using low-fat cheese, spelt flour, soy... you name it.
(Admittedly horrible seque coming up.... )
And so it is with what you have before you now, Heebonics: a blog for us, the latest generation of blintz inheritors and mavens. A place for us to meander aimlessly-but-joyfully about topics like, umm... blintzes.
Wanna wax poetic about Jon Stewart? Go right ahead. Feel the need to lament the dearth of Jaffa oranges on the shelves of Toronto's grocery stores? By all means. Got the urge to expound upon the goings-on in Israel? Yup, us too. In fact, write about whatever the heck it is that's on your "kopf" at any given time, you'll find a captive audience.
So welcome to the site. Browse around. Cue up some Rush or Counting Crows on your iPod. Stop drooling over that poster of Bar Rafaeli. Grab a fork and a blintz and come post. Shalom.