Ah, dream homes. As a child, I drew them, complete with swimable moats, slides instead of stairs, and a bedroom for pet monkeys. As a grownup, my tastes have matured somewhat, but I still love grandeur so every year I tromp through eclectic homes on an East Bay kitchen and home tour, usually with a friend. We’re critical in choosing where to vicariously live — too formal, we kvetch, or oy, white marble for kitchen countertops?
But this year, I find myself looking at homes in a different way.
Walking into one luxurious home, I miss the mezuzah at the door; the life-size giraffe and sleeping mermaid sculptures pull my eyes away — and I don’t know then to even look for one.
Beyond the expansive two-story atrium, a cozy corner library calls, with numerous books on the shelves about Judaism and Israel and novels by authors whose renowned last names connote their Jewishness. Cookbooks in the kitchen instruct chefs how to make traditional Jewish dishes and holiday food.
“Think they might be Jewish?” I joke to my friend. “You should see downstairs,” whispers the tour volunteer who overhears me. “Take a peek.” The room is off-limits and I have only a partial view from my position at the top of the staircase, crouching low on all fours like a cat ready to pounce. Others look at me, puzzled. “Menorahs,” I murmur to passers-by. So many different ones, all works of art.
My friend will later recall the spacious ballroom with the waterfall behind the bar, the luminous glass artworks, the indoor pool. I, however, fixate on its Jewishness.
This is because my home doesn’t exude much, I think. Would anyone who didn’t already know me well recognize it as a Jewish home?
Upon returning to my own residence, I imagine it’s on a tour.
Notice, the guidebook would read, as you step over the pile of dog hair in the entryway and wend your way through the path of origami papers that litter the floor, the stained glass star on the living room mantle — made by an artist neighbor who had no idea it was a Jewish star. Locate the modern brushed-silver menorah next to it. (Other menorahs scheduled to make appearances later in the year are currently in storage. They will be displayed year-round as the homeowners’ daughter’s collection grows, dependent upon allocation of allowance and what gift-givers bestow.) Behind glass in the china hutch, unintentionally obscured by a large ceramic hand-painted fire-breathing dragon, you may glimpse a small tarnished Kiddush cup, a family heirloom.
As you proceed downstairs, observe the array of Jewish books on one of the bedside tables. Notice the word “Interfaith” amongst them.
Back upstairs, spot the Jewish songbook open on the piano and the vast assortment of handcrafted candles on the table. One smells like bubblegum. The two crystal candlesticks, won by the homeowners in a raffle at Macy’s bridal registry event, are now designated Shabbat candleholders. (The non-Jewish resident of the home would like it noted that he enjoys the stillness and quiet that falls when candles are lit on Friday nights and reading aloud by candlelight.)
Next, you will enter the kitchen where you may detect challah crumbs on the kitchen counter. The ones on the floor have been vacuumed up by the dog, who drools on challah night. You will pass the cupboard with the door that doesn’t shut properly where you may notice a box of stale matzah, now hard as cardboard.
See the daughter’s Hebrew school calendar of dates on the fridge; in the freezer below sit latkes from Trader Joe’s. Look for the black satin kippah that lies on the windowsill, property of one East Bay synagogue and accidentally worn all the way home by one of the homeowners, who keeps meaning to return it.
As you exit to the garden from the family room, take note of the small zayin in script form on the north wall, scribbled by a mischievous friend during one unsupervised Shabbat dinner. It isn’t an intentional Hebrew letter, but the proprietor would like to point out that it’s all about how you look at it.
Joanne Catz Hartman, who lives in Oakland, can be reached at [email protected].