Opening Day

No, not that opening day, which took place in Tokyo, as we were on our way to Israel. And I’m not even referring to today’s home opener, where the Sox will receive their 2007 rings. For those who have forgotten how that works, because it’s been so long, after a team wins the World Series, which is what we call the Major League baseball championship, the players and coaches, and even the staff, all receive commemorative rings. And unlike the T-Shirts that are being worn in the beer soaked locker room, or even on the visiting mound, as everyone begins the celebration, and are somehow ready immediately after the conclusion of the Series, all without managing to jinx the winning team, the rings are not ready so fast.

Instead, the rings are made sometime over the winter, and get presented in a long ceremony that precedes the next season’s home opener. That’s today; and for the second time in only four years, after never having witnessed this ceremony previously, the Fenway faithful will enjoy a joyous parade, probably starting with Tim Wakefield, who has been with the team the longest, and finishing, ironically, with Eric Gagne, who joined the team at last summer’s trading deadline, and then did his best to undermine the Sox stretch drive. Maybe they should give the last ring to Ellsbury, who was called up after the Gagne trade, and who would make for a better conclusion to today’s procession.

But that being said, I’m still not referring to baseball. Rather, I mean opening day at the barbeque pit. Yesterday was warm and sunny, so I fired up the Weber twice, once for lunch and once for dinner, and cooked variations of the Israeli food we had been eating for the previous ten days. Just about the only thing we brought home from this trip was a variety of Israeli spices, two of which are combinations made for cooking meat. The one we used on Sunday has an indecipherable Hebrew name, one that meant nothing to us, but was loosely translated as kabob spice. We ate some great kabob on this trip. My favorite was at the little Arab restaurant in K’Far Kana, the kabob being served traditionally, cooked on a skewer, served so hot you had to be careful not to touch the burning end of the metal skewer. Susan’s favorite was a kabob patty that she ate at a Café in Tel Aviv’s renovated port district, looking out over the Mediterranean as the sun set. They served the kabob on the spongy Yemenite bread that Gidon makes, the name of which I can never recall.

I tried the kabob spice on two meats; first I used some ground Buffalo a friend had given us, mixed that up with chopped garlic and onions, and a spoonful of seasoning. Buffalo burgers, Israeli style. Very good, although not nearly as spicy as the authentic product. Perhaps it’s the lamb they use over there; perhaps I needed more of the spice. Who knows? Dinner time I marinated chicken strips in the Cornell chicken barbeque sauce, but flavored with kabob spice. Once again they were tasty, but the flavor was a shadow of the real thing. Still it was noteworthy, both for the season’s opening of the pit, and for the effort to cook with Israeli accent. With all the trips over the past year, I don’t know how long it will be before we return. But in the meantime, I’d like to keep a taste of Israel close by.