Traveling in Kosher Style


All the people we told about our road trip from Pittsburgh to Florida said we had to stop in Charleston, South Carolina, so we did. What they didn’t tell us was that one of the best things about the city was its restaurants.

I could have figured that out on my own though. Delicious food smells were everywhere. I was surprised by how enticed I was by them; but I was even more delighted by the fact that finally, I wasn’t resentful of the culinary “hardships” of being a kosher traveler.


Once upon a time, what I loved most about traveling was enjoying the local delicacies with abandon. For years after we became observant, traveling involved such huge sacrifice of pleasure and convenience that it almost wasn’t worth the effort. When our kids were young, and traveling required bringing along pots and pans and cartons of food, as well as our rambunctious kids, we stayed home a lot.

But now, as empty-nesters, the world feels like my oyster again (figuratively, anyway). Now we enjoy different activities when we travel to places without kosher restaurants. Sometimes we’ll sit on a bench and people watch, no, we’ll Jew watch. Here in Charleston we met an Israeli family and a French Juif selling table cloths (if we actually end up using the tablecloth, it’ll be a bonus.)

And we won’t go hungry. If the lettuce holds up and the dressing doesn’t leak, the most gourmet item will be chicken salad on a bed of mixed greens. Because it’s just the two of us traveling, the food can be simple (it must be ample though; the kosher traveler should always be prepared to fall off the map for a day or two). Cheese can withstand almost anything and chocolate is good any time of day. Almond milk creates a whole new perspective on life’s possibilities, especially coffee. Of course, it’s always good to think of the worst case food scenario, like what to do if the electric cooler that plugs into the lighter malfunctions completely (we can buy kosher nuts almost anywhere).

There are some material benefits to traveling in kosher style. Not eating in restaurants saves money and calories. And I don’t miss having to decide which restaurant to go to, and always questioning if the other one would have been better. Eating in our hotel room leaves more time to Jew watch and more money to buy tablecloths.

The spiritual benefits are even greater, although they took longer to accrue. Keeping kosher felt close to martyrdom for me in our early years of observance, and keeping kosher when traveling only rubbed it in. But it was what I had to do for G-d. It would be my mesirus nefesh, my self-sacrifice, for Him.

That may sound pathetic compared to the real sacrifices Jews have made for G-d throughout the millennia, but here’s something to ponder: People in our generation, being so far from Torah’s revelation, couldn’t withstand the tests of our spiritually hardier ancestors. Which means that G-d probably expects less of us, and that our small efforts mean more to Him.

Even so, I’m never sure if I’m living up to my spiritual potential. For now, I’m grateful that it’s finally a joy to travel in kosher style, hopeful that it means I’m getting somewhere after all.

About the Author
Lieba Rudolph, her husband, Zev, and their young family returned to observant Jewish life when they were both over thirty. Now, after spending equal time in both worlds, she shares the joys and challenges of her journey, answering everyone's unasked question: why would anyone normal want to become religious?