MICHELE LOWY

For centuries, Jews have been following strict dietary rules known as keeping kosher. Animals must be slaughtered humanely by a trained person, dairy and meat cannot be cooked or eaten together, some foods are forbidden, and all packaged foods must have a kosher seal of approval.

My parents grew up in kosher homes, but didn’t continue that when I was growing up. I thought the kosher rules were silly, though I would never have said that to my grandparents or favorite uncle. They were traditional Jews who believed in the power of mitzvot, defined as both commandments and good deeds.

I was also taught that the mitzvot served to remind us, at all times in our daily life, of the presence of God. I’m agnostic about God, and don’t believe in running my life according to religious law and tradition. But there is something powerful about imbuing the ordinary actions and tasks of daily life with something beyond routine. In the twenty-first century we might call it mindfulness.

I’ve always loved cooking, and many joyful parts of my adult life have revolved around cooking for, and eating with, family, friends and the wider community. Even cooking daily meals when my three children were young was more than just routine to me.

It was probably thirty years ago that I first read about factory egg farming and began buying only free-range eggs. A few years later a friend and I began buying meat in bulk from farmers we knew raised their animals as humanely as possible. As much as I can, I buy organic produce from farmers nearby, raise some of my own fruit and vegetables, and buy the smaller amount of meat we now eat from farmers I meet and get to know. By buying local and organic I am using my little bit of economic power to support healthier local food systems and the environment.

I also enjoy preparing food for people in need of support. Every month I join with a few members of the Champlain Valley Unitarian Universalist Church to cook for the Charter House. I bake cookies for the Congregational Church’s Community Supper, which offers a meal to food insecure families and individuals. And several times a month I bring a homemade casserole over to Gather for people to share. For the last few years I’ve cooked monthly for Abolition Kitchen, which supports Black women activists. And of course I join every meal train I’m invited to.

When I buy the ingredients for Charter House or Gather, I am buying larger quantities than what I need at home, where there are just two of us. But (and because I can afford it) I buy the same quality and kind of ingredients I would buy for us, out of respect for the people I am cooking for.

This is my way of keeping kosher. Food is not just fuel; cooking is not always just domestic labor. Being mindful of the source of our food, whether from the earth, our fellow creatures, the community of farmers and food workers, or our own hands, is spiritual, a source of reverence and love. I try to keep in my mind and heart the people I am cooking for, whether it’s for my family and friends, the activists of the Abolition Kitchen, or the marginalized and temporarily unhoused who come to Charter House and Gather. I try to imbue my labor with a sense of reverence and blessing.

I keep trying, in my own way, to keep my kind of kosher, and be a mindful Jewish mother to as many members of the community as my pots and spoons can reach. I may not be following the mitzvot that are religious commandments of how to cook and eat, but I’m attempting to do the mitzvot that can help heal the broken world.

Michele Lowy is a retired teacher living in Middlebury. She published her first novel, “A Small Door,” in 2023 and is working on a second one.