The New York Jewish Weekly - Connection the World with Jewish News, Culture, Features, and Opinions for Friday, 28 March 2014

The New York Jewish Weekly - Connection the World with Jewish News, Culture, Features, and Opinions for Friday, 28 March 2014

Passover is almost here, along with its rigorous dietary restrictions and cleaning requirements. Remember that the holiday also brings its own special treats. Food columnist Ronnie Fein reminds us of 10, from sugar cane Coca-Cola to jelly rings.

KOSHER KUPBOARD

Ronnie Fein

Jewish Week Online Columnist

Kosher For Passover: Cult Foods

The top 10 treats we love to eat during Pesach.

Passover’s almost here and supermarkets are starting to fill up with those kosher for Passover foods you can’t get, or wouldn’t care to eat, any other time of year. No, not matzah and potato starch: I mean the good stuff.
#10: Coca-Cola with the yellow top. The colored cap means the Coke is made with cane sugar, so it tastes the way it did back in the day, before high fructose corn syrup took over the world. Corn, of course, is kitnyiot, that category of grains and legumes that are forbidden to Ashkenazi Jews during the holiday along with the more obvious foods like bread and pasta. Sarah Klinkowitz, author of the blog "Food, Words & Photos," says her family fights about which version actually tastes better. But taste aside, everyone knows that Coke made with sugar is healthier than that high fructose corn syrup kind, right? Ditto Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda, also made with sugar during Passover.
#9 Hashachar H’aole Special Cocoa Spread. Folks like Sina Mizrahi at The Kosher Spoon like to wet their matzah just slightly under cold running water and then spread it with the chocolate. According to the scuttlebutt, this is an Israeli thing, and it means the holiday is coming. “ I’m getting excited for Pesach now!” Mirzrahi said.
#8 Manischewitz Coconut Patties. If you, like me, are always on a diet, you allow yourself to eat these candies—a cross between macaroons and Mound’s candy bars—only during Passover. My brother stocks them in his freezer and I actually could have them any old time. But I don’t. I really don’t.
#7 Tam Tams. Because they’re beyond crackers. “They make me want more of everything,” reflected Liz Rueven of Kosher Like Me, who has found all sorts of interesting ways to use these savory old reliables: as soup croutons, for instance. Who knew?
#6 Fox’s U-Bet Chocolate Syrup. Because any self-respecting person whose family ever lived in Brooklyn or the Bronx knows that you can’t make a decent egg cream without Fox’s U-Bet. Don’t even think about Bosco and especially don’t ever make one of those fancy Food & Wine versions with homemade chocolate syrup, cinnamon, pepper and cardamom. Egg creams are a holiday treat. Do it right. And besides, on Passover it’s healthier, for the same reason as #10.
#5 Chocolate Lollypops. On Passover even the most health-conscious parents stop pretending that their kids’ favorite treat is kale chips and give in and serve these, at least for the Seder. “People come to buy these way before Passover because they think we might run out of them,” said Eli Siegel, manager at Seasons in Flushing, New York.     
#4 Baby Fingers. So many parents—including Chanie Apfelbaum of Busy in Brooklyn—who never, ever buy packaged or processed foods own up to buying these cookies. “My kids wouldn’t survive Passover without them,” Apfelbaum said. Her sister-in-law even uses baby fingers crumbled up with milk instead of Passover breakfast cereal. At Empire Kosher Supermarket in Crown Heights, I’m told, they can never have too many boxes. Fun fact: Baby fingers were once called lady fingers, but that name was considered too suggestive.
#3 Manischewitz Rocky Road Macaroons. Because even though they’re just canned macaroons, they’re loaded with coconut, chocolate chips, cashews and marshmallow bits. Need I say more? “They fly off the shelves before Passover begins," said Siegel of Seasons in Flushing.
#2 Jelly Half Moons. True, there were no jelly half moon candies crusted with sugar in the desert during the exodus. But these chewy, crunchy sweets that get stuck between every tooth have shown up on Passover shelves for as long as I can remember. Why? Who knows? Who cares? They just do. And for those who aren’t in the know, Ian Pilarski, buyer at Fairway supermarkets, said, “The secret to the jelly candies is that they go in the freezer before they’re served.” Jamie Geller, cookbook author and head of Kosher Media Network — she knows her way around kosher food — thinks of them as the ultimate: “Jelly rings and jelly slices - so Pesach!” she said.
#1 Chocolate-Covered Jelly Rings. Because if candy jellies are among the most wanted musts on Passover, why not cover them with chocolate just to gild the lily? Besides, you can put one of these on each finger, which is really convenient, and eat a whole handful at a time. Chocolate-covered jelly rings on Passover are the equivalent of Chinese food on Christmas. Everyone knows that—you just might not have realized you knew it until now.
Ronnie Fein is a cookbook author and cooking teacher in Stamford. Her latest book is Hip Kosher. Visit her food blog, Kitchen Vignettes, at www.ronniefein.com and follow on Twitter at @RonnieVFein.
And for further reading pleasure we've got two great packages today, both on our homepage.
Look there for a list of March's top stories, such as a prominent rabbi's reflections on his bipolar disorder and encounter with law enforcement, and a piece about life for Hungarian Jews today.

OPINION

My Struggle With Bipolar Disorder

A prominent rabbi apologizes and reflects on his diagnosis and arrest by police during a manic episode.

Alfredo Borodowski

Eight months have passed since the beginning of my experience with the criminal justice system. (I was arrested in June and accused of impersonating a police officer and was ultimately charged with non-criminal violations.) My involvement in that system is now well settled and gratefully behind me. These eight months have also given me the respite to reflect deeply on what took place, the challenge of being bipolar, and how to use this difficult and painful experience, and my diagnosis, to derive something positive.
First, I want to acknowledge the pain and stress my actions and their consequences, albeit in the throes of a psychiatric episode, caused my family, my friends, my congregation and others who came to be on the receiving end of my symptoms.
Now that the legal part of my crisis has been resolved I am able, for the first time, to share my experiences openly. In breaking my silence, I hope to be able to help those who suffer in silence from mental illness to be properly diagnosed and treated, early on, so that they can continue to lead productive lives, without having to experience the crisis I had. I hope as well, as I continue to progress in the treatment of and recovery from my illness, under the supervision of thoughtful and caring general physicians and psychiatrists, to highlight that individuals with bipolar disease, treated properly, can continue to contribute their talents and expertise as productive members of society.
I am still shaken by the events that happened to me back in June. Who would have anticipated that a rabbi of a wonderful congregation and executive director of a prominent Jewish educational program would, in the span of two days, be confronted by the legal system, experience self-destructive thoughts and be admitted to a psychiatric unit of a major hospital? But, in fact, as unbelievable as that may seem, the signs had actually been present for months.
The higher doses of antidepressant medications that had been prescribed for me at the time actually brought me from a state of depressed despair back to my habitual high energy, then to what became an extended period of bipolar mania. In those three months of mania I actually accomplished some amazing things. I completed writing a book, started another one, read voraciously and extended the activities of the center that I directed — all with half my usual amount of sleep. Yet something was seriously “off.”
The energy and creativity was accompanied by a tremendous degree of grandiosity and self-importance, also common symptoms of bipolar disorder. Convinced I could accomplish just about anything, I also became irritable and argumentative. This inflated sense of self manifested itself, among other behaviors, in my seeking to make order in the world by confronting drivers on the road, ultimately leading to my arrest. While mania often generates high energy and high productivity, it cannot continue to be a positive state, and, as in my situation, it is bound to end negatively.
This began my downward spiral into acute depression, which ended on a psychiatric unit of a major metropolitan medical center. There I learned my proper diagnosis, bipolar disorder. In the days to come, I was faced with the embarrassment of the public aftermath of my untreated symptoms and resultant behaviors.
But there was also hope. That came from my beloved congregation, Sulam Yaakov, built from scratch a few years ago with no big building, name or cache. The congregation became the counterbalance of compassion and Torah I needed to survive. My return to the bima at Sulam Yaakov back in August was the greatest therapy I could have had. Standing side-by-side with my family, the congregants sent an unmistakable and loudly spoken message: We know this man and we know who he really is. 
In that moment and beyond I came once again to know how lucky and how blessed I am.
Today I am left with my mental health condition exposed to the community: What do I do now? I’m attempting to transform my difficult and challenging experience into a blessing. In the psychiatric unit, I was introduced to a new community in search of a voice — a community still hiding behind closed doors, feeling rejected, stigmatized, discarded and scared to be discovered.
Many conversations I have had about my crisis end with the other person sharing that a relative or friend has a mental illness. People also say how difficult is to be open about and confront mental illness issues. If just one individual is inspired and encouraged to say, “Wow, the rabbi, one who leads a community and is a public persona, is not afraid or ashamed of being bipolar, then neither do I need to be ashamed and remain hidden,” then a great part of this very challenging illness I carry will be justified.
Finally, I came to learn there are wonderful programs that train individuals in key positions to detect mental illness and to assist those at risk and their loved ones to avert situations like the one that happened to me. To be trained in these techniques and to train others has become part of my mission. With training, rabbis, Hillel directors and other religious and community leaders can literally save lives.
Coming through my experience has brought a deep wisdom and gratitude to my life. I’m very thankful to my family, friends, community and health professionals for my treatment and teaching me that bipolar mania can be treated, stabilized and recovered from with insight, cooperation and compliance. As an “out of the closet” person with bipolar illness, now being properly treated and stabilized, I serve as a test case for the community that must choose between opening or closing its doors to me and the many others with mental illness silently standing by my side.
Rabbi Alfredo Borodowski is spiritual leader of Congregation Sulam Yaakov, Larchmont, N.Y. Email: rabbialfredo@optonline.net
Also, front and center, you'll see several pieces dealing spiritedly with issues of rabbinic authority, particularly in the Modern Orthodox world. Definitely fodder for Shabbat table conversation.
OPINION
All A Rabbi Can Command These Days Is Respect
Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel once wrote, “Faith is a blush in the presence of God.” Put another way, the purpose of a synagogue, or any house of worship for that matter, is to alert congregants of the gap between who we are and who we should be — an awareness that often induces us to blush. The paradox embedded in all synagogues is that at one and the same time they seek to embrace Jews “where they are,” yet also direct them towards “where they ought to be.”   
All of which makes the job of a rabbi really interesting. Because if the project of religion is to inform, admonish or inspire individuals toward bettering themselves and the world in which we live, then it follows that a rabbi’s task must be the same. From the time of the Prophets to present-day congregational life, sound religious leadership is marked not by parroting the choices Jews would otherwise make, but rather in inspiring Jews to live the lives they would otherwise not lead. Be it feeding the poor, supporting the State of Israel, or preaching the value of endogamy — a rabbi’s job is prescriptive in nature — to reach beyond what everyone else in secular society tells us is inevitable and unavoidable.
We live in an age of radical autonomy and permeable social boundaries. Ever since the Enlightenment, rabbis no longer possess the political authority, inclination or time to check up on what Jews are and aren’t doing. The only thing a rabbi or any religious leader can command in this day and age is respect. Every rabbi knows that that the choices of his or her congregants make are ultimately their own. We all understand that as congregational leaders what we say or do may result in a congregant leaving our community. As leaders called on to serve a community, we are all aware of the tipping point whereby the gap between us and our congregants may widen to the point of finding ourselves out of a job.
But just because the dynamics of the playing field have changed doesn’t mean the values have. Even in modernity, especially in modernity, the unique, sensitive and critical nature of rabbinic leadership must be affirmed. Rabbis and congregants must understand that the statement of Jewish values can never be contingent on the assent of the Jew in the pew. Do you treat each other kindly? I don’t know, but our tradition makes clear that you should. Do you give charitably? You may or may not, but I am here to remind you of your obligation to do so. Are you faithful to your spouse? Statistically speaking, odds are that not all my congregants are, but it should come as no surprise that I preach that they should be. Do you keep kashrut and Shabbat? I have no intention of ever “spot-checking” families, but the message from the pulpit remains constant week in and week out. The whole point of rabbinic leadership, as the saying goes, is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.
My colleagues and I think very carefully about what we do and don’t affirm as values. What we say (or don’t) about same-sex relationships, the importance of Jewish camping, day school education, Israel advocacy, endogamy or any other sensitive issue is never a decision made lightly. And no matter what we decide, we are all aware that no matter what we say, many in our community have chosen and will continue to choose otherwise. We preach these things because we believe them, because we believe our stances are justified by the tradition and because we believe that these behaviors offer the greatest possibility for the growth, strengthening and defense of the Jewish people. But we do not preach these things because we assume you will agree with us. The explicit or implicit social contract between rabbi and Jew is based on love, trust and dialogue — with or without accord. As Rabbi Israel Salanter stated: “A rabbi whose community does not disagree with him is no rabbi. A rabbi who fears his community is no man.” 
All told, the most important thing a rabbi can model for congregants is his or her own struggles. I have no idea who my children will or won’t marry. I have no idea how long I can keep sending my kids to shul, Jewish day school and Jewish summer camp before they hit system overload. I can’t even claim to know for sure what combination of Jewish educational experiences holds the greatest promise for a child’s Jewish future. I have stayed up more nights than I can count wondering if in this day and age if it is conscionable for me to live anywhere but Israel. There are a lot of ideals that I believe should be held sacred, and I will be the first to admit that I don’t live up to all of them. And while some may call that hypocrisy, the words I would choose are authenticity and integrity. In other words, the most honest and effective form of leadership a rabbi can provide is not to pontificate, but to share his or her humanity. Even rabbis don’t have it all figured out — so we certainly don’t expect other Jews to have done so. Our commitment is to wrestle with God’s will — every day of our lives.
One of the most moving passages offered by the tradition comes towards the end of the Torah when Moses enjoins his people to live a life of mitzvot. “It is not in the heavens … neither is it beyond the sea … No, it is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.” (Deuteronomy 30:12-13) We do not live in the world as it ought to be; synagogues remind us of that fact. But synagogues also inspire us towards leading the life we long to lead and remind us that our ideals are not as far away as we think. It is altogether doable. Most of all, synagogues remind us that we are all engaged in this struggle — clergy and laity together. Each one of us reaching out for truth even as we admit to being unsure of where it lies, all of us seeking to make real God’s will here on earth.
Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove is spiritual leader of Manhattan’s Park Avenue Synagogue.
Have a great weekend, everybody, and hope to see you next week.
-- 
Best,
Helen Chernikoff, Web Director

The Arts

Scene from "Uriel Acosta: I Want That Man!" about 17th-century religious iconoclast.

Erik Carter 

A Jewish Outlaw, 17th-Century Style
Ted Merwin - Special To The Jewish Week
He was a heretic who boldly helped to invent secular Judaism. The 17th-century Dutch Jewish philosopher, Uriel Acosta, questioned Jewish orthodoxy at a time when the Jewish community in Amsterdam was still reeling from the Inquisition — and desperately seeking respectability in the eyes of Jews and non-Jews alike. Now, in the capstone production of its two-year Yiddish theater project, comes Target Margin’s “Uriel Acosta: I Want That Man!” Now in previews, it opens next Monday night in Queens for a two-week run, with four actors each playing Acosta, in addition to other roles.
Acosta was born in 1585 to parents who had converted from Judaism to Christianity under the pressure of the Inquisition. The family fled to Amsterdam to resume their Jewish faith, but Acosta became troubled by what he viewed as excessively ritualistic — essentially rabbinic — and irrational aspects of Judaism. For his renegade views, he was excommunicated (and then, after recanting and then backsliding, excommunicated again), publicly lashed and humiliated, and ultimately driven to suicide. 
While Acosta may be less well known than his near contemporary, the Jewish rebel Baruch Spinoza, his story was a legendary one for centuries after his death. First dramatized in 1847 by the German Christian writer Karl Gutzkow, it spawned numerous Yiddish translations; indeed, it launched the trend of adapting great Western plays for the Yiddish stage.
As historian Seth Wolitz has written, the story serves an “iconic” role in Yiddish culture; it “embodies that culture’s secular aspirations, and celebrates the integrity and uniqueness of the individual, as well as his right to claim a communal identity without being shackled to its religious authority or enforced traditions.”
In developing the work, Herskovits and his team drew from many different theatrical versions, and incorporated video clips of other dissidents, ranging from Jewish AIDS activist Larry Kramer to the legendary Filipino independence fighter José Rizal. In addition, the production uses a “play-within-a-play” structure, in which the great Yiddish tragedian Jacob Adler is shown competing with other actors on the Lower East Side to stage the most definitive version of Acosta’s story.
Acosta was “a dashing, irresistible man of mystery,” Herskovits told The Jewish Week, “but he was also a misfit.” The title, he said, is open to interpretation. “Is he wanted romantically or because he’s an outlaw? He’s one of the most exciting people in our history. Are we supposed to love him or hate him?”
“Uriel Acosta: I Want That Man!” runs through April 5 at the Chocolate Factory Theater, 5-49 49th Ave. in Long Island City. Performances are Monday at 8 p.m., Wednesday through Saturday at 8 p.m., with a special matinee this Sunday at 5 p.m. For tickets, $20, call TheaterMania at (212) 352-3101 or visit www.targetmargin.org.

Osem USA Launches $2,500 Grand Prize Sweepstakes through Social Media

Share your connection to Israel with Osem this Passover
Osem USA, America's leading brand of Israeli-made products, has launched a series of social media promotions and contests for the Passover Holiday Season, including a Grand Prize Sweepstakes with a cash prize of $2,500. 

Opinion

All A Rabbi Can Command These Days Is Respect

Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel once wrote, “Faith is a blush in the presence of God.” Put another way, the purpose of a synagogue, or any house of worship for that matter, is to alert congregants of the gap between who we are and who we should be — an awareness that often induces us to blush. The paradox embedded in all synagogues is that at one and the same time they seek to embrace Jews “where they are,” yet also direct them towards “where they ought to be.”   
All of which makes the job of a rabbi really interesting. Because if the project of religion is to inform, admonish or inspire individuals toward bettering themselves and the world in which we live, then it follows that a rabbi’s task must be the same. From the time of the Prophets to present-day congregational life, sound religious leadership is marked not by parroting the choices Jews would otherwise make, but rather in inspiring Jews to live the lives they would otherwise not lead. Be it feeding the poor, supporting the State of Israel, or preaching the value of endogamy — a rabbi’s job is prescriptive in nature — to reach beyond what everyone else in secular society tells us is inevitable and unavoidable.
We live in an age of radical autonomy and permeable social boundaries. Ever since the Enlightenment, rabbis no longer possess the political authority, inclination or time to check up on what Jews are and aren’t doing. The only thing a rabbi or any religious leader can command in this day and age is respect. Every rabbi knows that that the choices of his or her congregants make are ultimately their own. We all understand that as congregational leaders what we say or do may result in a congregant leaving our community. As leaders called on to serve a community, we are all aware of the tipping point whereby the gap between us and our congregants may widen to the point of finding ourselves out of a job.
But just because the dynamics of the playing field have changed doesn’t mean the values have. Even in modernity, especially in modernity, the unique, sensitive and critical nature of rabbinic leadership must be affirmed. Rabbis and congregants must understand that the statement of Jewish values can never be contingent on the assent of the Jew in the pew. Do you treat each other kindly? I don’t know, but our tradition makes clear that you should. Do you give charitably? You may or may not, but I am here to remind you of your obligation to do so. Are you faithful to your spouse? Statistically speaking, odds are that not all my congregants are, but it should come as no surprise that I preach that they should be. Do you keep kashrut and Shabbat? I have no intention of ever “spot-checking” families, but the message from the pulpit remains constant week in and week out. The whole point of rabbinic leadership, as the saying goes, is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.
My colleagues and I think very carefully about what we do and don’t affirm as values. What we say (or don’t) about same-sex relationships, the importance of Jewish camping, day school education, Israel advocacy, endogamy or any other sensitive issue is never a decision made lightly. And no matter what we decide, we are all aware that no matter what we say, many in our community have chosen and will continue to choose otherwise. We preach these things because we believe them, because we believe our stances are justified by the tradition and because we believe that these behaviors offer the greatest possibility for the growth, strengthening and defense of the Jewish people. But we do not preach these things because we assume you will agree with us. The explicit or implicit social contract between rabbi and Jew is based on love, trust and dialogue — with or without accord. As Rabbi Israel Salanter stated: “A rabbi whose community does not disagree with him is no rabbi. A rabbi who fears his community is no man.” 
All told, the most important thing a rabbi can model for congregants is his or her own struggles. I have no idea who my children will or won’t marry. I have no idea how long I can keep sending my kids to shul, Jewish day school and Jewish summer camp before they hit system overload. I can’t even claim to know for sure what combination of Jewish educational experiences holds the greatest promise for a child’s Jewish future. I have stayed up more nights than I can count wondering if in this day and age if it is conscionable for me to live anywhere but Israel. There are a lot of ideals that I believe should be held sacred, and I will be the first to admit that I don’t live up to all of them. And while some may call that hypocrisy, the words I would choose are authenticity and integrity. In other words, the most honest and effective form of leadership a rabbi can provide is not to pontificate, but to share his or her humanity. Even rabbis don’t have it all figured out — so we certainly don’t expect other Jews to have done so. Our commitment is to wrestle with God’s will — every day of our lives.
One of the most moving passages offered by the tradition comes towards the end of the Torah when Moses enjoins his people to live a life of mitzvot. “It is not in the heavens … neither is it beyond the sea … No, it is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.” (Deuteronomy 30:12-13) We do not live in the world as it ought to be; synagogues remind us of that fact. But synagogues also inspire us towards leading the life we long to lead and remind us that our ideals are not as far away as we think. It is altogether doable. Most of all, synagogues remind us that we are all engaged in this struggle — clergy and laity together. Each one of us reaching out for truth even as we admit to being unsure of where it lies, all of us seeking to make real God’s will here on earth.
Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove is spiritual leader of Manhattan’s Park Avenue Synagogue.

Blogs

THE POLITICAL INSIDER | THE ROSENBLOG | THE NEW NORMAL | A COMIC'S JOURNEY | WELL VERSED

POLITICAL INSIDER

Loose Lips Sink Ships by Douglas Bloomfield

Defense Minister Moshe Ya'alon seems to have a penchant for insulting Israel's most important ally and defender.  His latest targets are the American president and secretary of state. Making matters worse was the silence of his prime minister, who didn't do anything until Secretary of State John Kerry called.  And even then Yaalon's apology was so weak that, in an unprecedented move, the White House and State Department rejected it and responded with a stinging rebuke.
Yaalon earlier this year called Kerry's efforts to revive the peace process "inexplicably obsessive" and "messianic" and said he has "nothing to teach me about the conflict with the Palestinians.  All that can 'save us' is for John Kerry to win a Nobel Prize and leave us in peace."
His latest was an attack on American "weakness" and need to "come to its senses" and start acting like "the world's policeman."  The United States, he said, can't be relied upon to stop Iran from getting nuclear weapons."
Ya’alon said US military aid to Israel “isn’t a favor America is doing, it’s in their interest.” Yes, it is true the US benefits, but as Israeli military analyst Ron Ben- Yishai observed, “The simple truth is that the US can survive pretty well without Israel as an ally, but the inverse is not the case.”
He called Ya’alon’s “provocative” remarks “irresponsible” and “a serious failure in Israel’s management of its security affairs.”
Ya’alon is entitled to his opinions, but when it takes the form of bitter broadsides against Israel’s most important ally and the one that provides over $3 billion in annual military assistance, the defense minister, of all people, should have some appreciation of that fact. Yet he seems determined to undermine the relationship he claims is so important.
If he feels compelled to air his opinions in public, he should do so as a private citizen. Netanyahu's failure to fire this serial insulter may be seen as an endorsement. 
Some have suggested that Defense Minister Moshe Ya'alon is only saying what Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu can't.  I don't buy that.  Whether the two agree or not, Ya'alon is his own man and no one's puppet.
Even Ya'alon's defenders agree he should be more circumspect in his disagreements with Washington.  Others suggest since his comments were off the record or in private, they don't count.  In Israel?  Don't be absurd.  As in Washington, if you want to keep something secret don't tell it to a group of 100 people at a university; in fact make sure you don't even talk in your sleep.
Ya'alon either has to make a concerted effort to rebuild trust with Israel's most important ally or Prime Minister Netanyahu should find a defense minister who can. 

WELL VERSED

Talk Yiddish To Me by Gabriela Geselowitz

At a glance, hip hop and klezmer don't seem like a natural mix.  But you ain't seen nothing yet.
Scott Bradlee and his "Postmodern Jukebox" project have been making the rounds on the Internet for some time. From covering Lana Del Rey as 1920s jazz to Miley Cyrus as 1950s Doo-Wop, the musical group has carved out a fanbase of those who are bored or dissatisfied with pop music, or want to hear their favorite contemporary songs in a new way. These musicians haven't invented the genre-shifting practice, but rather than stick to one new genre, they've kept experimenting.  And their latest experiment, of all things, is a klezmer cover of Jason Derulo's "Talk Dirty".
In addition to the Jewish-sounding arrangement (fiddle and accordion included, of course), there is actually Yiddish in the song. Vocalist Robyn Adele Anderson counts off in Yiddish, and at the number's rap solo (originally by 2 Chainz) sings it in the mamaloshen seamlessly (the video also credits her as translator).
The video passed 100,000 views in 2 days, and has been warmly received by Jewish and non-Jewish Youtubers alike.
"Idle deedle didle Yo, bizatch," commented one user. And truer words were never spoken.
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