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Be warned. This article contains subjects Jews should not/ cannot/ do not want to talk about. Speaking of things that are not kosher, this Jew Taboo instalment is all about traif.
The Urban Dictionary contains two definitions for traif. Traditionally, it is anything considered vile or non- kosher in the Hebrew faith. Contemporarily, it is something dirty and nasty you do not want around, much less want to consume or touch.
Not wanting to open a can of metaphorical worms, which incidentally are not kosher, this discussion will focus on the traditional variety of traif. The kind you eschew eating at Skinny Dip but most probably indulge in at a Byron Bay café, a month after the rest of the tribe departs.
So what are kashrut laws about and why are some Jews compelled to observe them, while others feel mild guilt pangs for not observing them, leaving the rest to break the dietary laws at each course, with the zeal generally reserved for intercourse.
Everyone is well aware of the cardinal one. Do not cook a kid goat in its mother’s milk. This rule is drummed into Jewish children at Hebrew school, when their young minds are supple and ripe for indoctrination. Well-behaved and unspoilt Jewish children were not generally known to question these laws until one rabble rouser at a Jewish school in Lindfield which shall for all intents and purposes remain nameless asked, “what if it is not the kid’s mother?” This question had all the kids in the playground questioning and discussing over their “kosher pastrami” school lunches, can you cook a kid goat in another mother’s milk?
Another (less popular) dietary law involves creatures of the deep. Feel free to serve them at your son’s bris, as long as they have scales (interesting considering how much we Jews like to avoid other sorts of scales). Crustaceans ain’t kosher, so keep them out of your sushi! The rationale? Several have been offered to me, most centred around the theory that prawns et al are the cockroaches of the sea, that they eat the excrement of other marine life. I am still not sure whether this is a case of eating shit or talking shit. Either way, if I give you seafood and you give it back to me because it is not kosher, is that squid pro quo?
There are of course, the age old rules about land animals. I have some vague recollection through the haze of my Jewish Studies lessons that the laws involve cloven hooves, chewing cud and pigs wishing the whole world were Jewish. I would rather not specify the details of these laws, for fear that if I get it wrong my Morah will come at me during the night, brandishing her sheitl as some sort of weapon.
Admittedly, some of the theories for observing kashrut laws are quite attractive. One is that by not indiscriminately eating everything that comes into your path, you are separating yourself from animals, increasing your humaneness. Another explanation is that it strengthens your Jewish identity, as every time you look at a menu, you observe the things you cannot eat then question why you cannot eat them. Like a lightening bolt it hits you, ahhh it is because you are one of the Chosen People.
Finally, kashrut is about exercising self discipline, which strengthens your character. All these reasons are valid and strike a chord with me personally. For some bizarre reason however, every time I step foot into Hurricanes, which is often, the aforementioned logic goes flying out the window (perhaps to drown its sorrows in the nearby mikvah) and I am left at one with a 350 gram rump (with monkey gland sauce and a Roquefort salad, in case you are interested).
I recently read the God Delusion, in which religion is referred to as a means of control. How is it done? You take the activities that humans derive the most happiness from, such as lobster consumption, and ban them. Every time humans engage in these pleasurable activities, which bring joy to an otherwise bleak existence, they feel guilt and feel the need to seek forgiveness, bringing them back into the clutches of faith. Very evil and conspiratorial, but apparently rather effective, just ask L. Ron Hubbard.
Some say the greatest Jewish dilemma is free traif. Maybe if the rabbinate spoke to the food authorities and asked them to double the price of traif (as a certain Sydney-based kosher institution has done with kosher functions) we might find it easier to resist it. Maybe if a certain food chain were not right outside my bus stop, I could avoid frequent indulgences. All I know is that in moments of weakness, of which there are many, I take solace in the words of my great uncle. He always says, it is not what you put in your mouth, it is what comes out.
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