On Monday, June 8, The Jerusalem Post published a story on page 6 that the Tel Aviv Kashrut Rabbinate “shamed” a falafel bar by putting up notices that the business was no longer kosher. I will not put the name of the falafel bar to give it more publicity, but the story requires a comment.
The story goes on to say that the falafel bar had certification for 42 years. Most people would assume after that the time the place was kosher unless they saw a notice that it no longer was, like the Kashrut Rabbinate properly did.
If a restaurant decided to save 500 shekels a month by not keeping health standards and I got sick and died by eating contaminated food, I would sure want the health department to post a notice. This is Israel and a Jewish country. The writer for the Jerusalem Post should certainly understand that when you can not trust the kashrut of a business for a religious person, the food is considered like poison if you eat it purposely (not accidentally like not knowing the place is no longer kosher after 42 years).
The owner felt that the notices that were put up were like death notices All that was put up were notices that to religious people that the place was no longer kosher. Notices were not put on computer media announcing it to hurt the business purposely. Only notices were given to the religious public that a business that was kosher for 42 years was no longer and this was perfectly necessary.
It is also a shame that the owner decided that this was the 500 shekels he could not spend to stay in business and feed the religious public (the Rabbinate had already reduced his fee from 800 because of the economic circumstances). It is exactly for this reason that the religious public relies on the Rabbinate. It is nice to say that the person quoted in the story trusts the restaurant’s kashrut without a certificate.
I don’t and am glad I was informed. A person that cuts the most important corner for a religious food establishment can not be trusted to give me kosher food. The story is sympathetic to the owner of the restaurant, but it should not be, and for that reason, I write this blog.
A short joke:
Hey, I’m a Believer
Young Sarah Feldman came home very sad from a date. She told her mother, “David proposed to me an hour ago.”
“Mazal tov! But why are you so sad?” her mother asked.
“Because he also told me he is not a believer. Mom, he said that he doesn’t believe in God, or heaven and hell.”
“Marry him anyway,” Sarah’s mother replied. “Take him to Aunt Edna’s for Shabbos. When you bring him home ask him if he wants to reconsider his belief in hell.”