Like pop-its, fidget spinners and slime before them, squishies are the new must-have item among kids, tweens and teens. Whether shaped like a stick of butter, a dumpling, a runny egg on a pile of rice or just a plain old cube, the squishy is having a moment.

But in our opinion, one thing is missing from the squishies line up. It’s one of the more satisfyingly doughy objects, just begging for a squishy interpretation: a loaf of challah. (Free business idea!)

While we wait for the squishy market to right this wrong, here are 6 Jewish squishies waiting for their viral moment.

The post 6 Jewish Squishies You’ll Love To Squeeze appeared first on Kveller.

For some millennial Jewish women, Natalie Portman arrived on the scene as the ultimate aspirational Nice Jewish Girl. She was proud to be Jewish. She was beautiful. She went to Harvard! She was the mother of Luke and Leia. She was your Jewish summer camp crush’s dream girl. (A chapter of Mindy Kaling’s book “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me” included a section addressed to her Jewish guy friends that said, “I know a small part of you thinks you could have ended up with Natalie Portman if you had played things a little differently. That’s nice. You can have that. That’s not hurting anybody.”)

So it’s comforting to know that Natalie Portman might have had something in common with us mere mortals: She was obsessed with The Baby-Sitters Club book series and wished that there was a Jewish babysitter.

“I loved that book series so, so much,” Portman told Drew Barrymore earlier this year on Barrymore’s daytime talk show. “Ann M. Martin, the author, came to do a signing [at a local kids’ book store in my hometown] and I waited 4 hours to meet her… I was like, we need representation. I had a whole presentation why there should be a Jewish babysitter character in the book.”

Back in 2020, Natalie told a longer version of the story while promoting her children’s book, “Fables.” In a 2020 video for Popverse, she said, “During sleepovers, my best friend Julie and I would dial all the Ann M. Martins in the New York phone book to see if we could give her our feedback, but after we called like 30 with no luck we got bored.”

When she finally got the chance to meet Martin in the flesh, Portman was ready. “I remember preparing my presentation for her and choosing my best newsboy cap and Doc Martens for the big day,” she said. “I presented a new character for [Martin] to introduce. I remember picking her favorite colors (purple and yellow), and her favorite subjects in school (English and biology) and her favorite extracurricular activities (singing and dancing).”

“I wanted to see someone specifically from my culture there to be seen and acknowledged and counted. When my whole world was ensconced in all things Baby-Sitters Club, if someone like me wasn’t in the story in an essential way, I didn’t exist,” Portman explained. “I understood then how much representation matters.”

Portman’s advocacy may have indeed played a part in influencing Ann M. Martin. In 1995’s “Welcome to the BSC, Abby,” the 90th book in the Baby-Sitters Club series, a new babysitter joins the club — and she’s Jewish. (She also has anxiety, asthma and an impressive array of allergies.)

In a letter to readers at the beginning of the book, Martin wrote that she was very intentional when adding a new character. “I wanted a character who was different from the other girls in ‘The Baby-Sitters Club,’” she wrote. “Many readers had asked for a character who is a twin. Many others had asked for a character who is Jewish. So we took these and other things into consideration.”

Abby and Anna Stevenson, the Jewish twins written into the series, moved to the fictional town of Stoneybrook from Long Island — the very place where a young Natalie Portman made her case to Ann M. Martin.

Coincidence? Probably, but Martin does seem to know about Portman’s love of the series. In 2019, Portman shared a photo of herself on Instagram holding “Kristy and the Walking Disaster” (editor’s note: a great choice, that Jackie Rodowsky was such a character), signed “For Natalie Portman – BSC 4-ever! With admiration, Ann M. Martin.”

Portman captioned the post, “Today was a VERY IMPORTANT day for me. I read every single Baby-sitter’s Club book when I was a kid. Once when I was 9, I waited in line for 4 hours at my local bookstore to meet Ann M. Martin. And today I got this in the mail from her.”

Crucially, she added, “I still identify as a Kristy mixed with Stacey and a dash of Dawn.”

The post Natalie Portman Once Asked Ann M. Martin for a Jewish ‘Baby-Sitters Club’ Character appeared first on Kveller.

Jewish summer camps — particularly sleep-away experiences where campers live in bunks or tents during the summer in rural areas — have become an integral part of American and Canadian Jewish culture over the 20th and 21st centuries. They have also spread in popularity in other parts of the world: Hungary, Israel and Australia, for instance, now all provide overnight Jewish camping experiences for kids and teens.

The first Jewish summer camp as we know it was established in 1893, called Camp Lehman in Connecticut (now known as the Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center). At the time, summer camps for children in the United States were encouraged by progressive reformers who recognized the need and importance of fresh air and nature for urban children, and also used as a way to integrate the children of new immigrants. Some Jewish camps that sprang up had a specific goal or dogma, like Yiddishist and Zionist camps. For many Jews, camp was a safe and welcoming place, free from discrimination they may have faced at home. 

Mostly, though, Jewish summer camp was (and continues to be) just a ton of fun. It allows for kids to try new activities from archery to canoeing, still continues to provide urbanites a chance to be out in nature, and being a camp counselor can be a great rite of passage to learn about leadership and maturity, while still being a little silly. I definitely cherish my own Jewish summer camp childhood memories as a camper and had a wonderful time being a counselor later down the road.

For those who grew up going to Jewish summer camp, former campers and staff often report it was a critical element of strengthening and building their own sense of Jewish identity. There’s countless novels, TV episodes and movies based on Jewish summer camp experiences simply because they’re so fundamental (and of course full of great coming-of-age moments and shenanigans).

If you grew up going to a Jewish summer camp and maybe also staffing one later down the road, why not pay tribute to this wonderful, life-affirming element of Jewish life when it comes to naming your baby? 

Boys’ names

Akiva: A nod to the Bnei Akiva religious youth group movement, which has a number of summer camps throughout the world.

Mosse: The Judeo-Catalan and Judeo-Provencal form of Moses, one of the most important leaders in Judaism. Leadership is a critical part of the camp experience, from a camp director to counselors to Color War captains.

Ram: The Ramah network of Jewish summer camps is much beloved. This name in Hebrew means “exalted.”

Sender: The Yiddish name meaning “protector,” or sometimes translated as “defender,” reflects the many times at camp when campers have to defend their team (in sports, in Color War or even bunk against bunk), and also evokes the strong protective feelings many feel for their camp alma mater.

Shimshon: Derived from the root word for “sun” in Hebrew, this moniker is perfect for a sweet summer (camp) child.

Shraga: This one means “lamp” or “lantern” in Hebrew. A large part of summer camp nighttime activities or overnight camping requires a lantern; the name can also be a metaphor, a lantern to lead the way in the darkness.

Uz/Utz: A figure from the Torah whose name means “counsel,” it’s an apt name for anyone who’s ever been a camp counselor or received advice or a big hug from the camp counselors of their youth.

Zamir: Who isn’t a “singer” at camp? Whether it’s joining in together for Shabbat services or a modern Hebrew pop song at the talent show, letting your voice out is an integral part of the camp experience.

Girls’ names

Bensivenuta: This beautiful and unusual Judeo-Italian name means “welcome,” a perfect metaphor for the welcoming environment of camp.

Massipa: A Judeo-Catalan name meaning “youngster, learner,” for camper parents who grew up embracing the youthful learning that goes on outside of school.

Paz: This gorgeous name meaning “gold” in Hebrew (as well as “peace” in Spanish) can be a subtle yet fun reference to both Color War games at camp and the picturesque gold colors when the sun sets after a great day playing, learning and singing.

Reut: “Friendship,” in Hebrew! What better way to acknowledge one of the primary appeals of a summer at camp: building, growing and maintaining friendships, oftentimes ones that last for life.

Shabetaia: A female name meaning “Shabbat” (Sabbath) used traditionally by Turkish Jews. Countless campers and counselors have warm memories of all-camp Shabbat celebrations, often with homemade challah, dancing and communal candle lighting.

Shalhevet: This name, meaning “flame” in Hebrew, pays a sweet tribute to the joys of summer night traditions like singing around a campfire and maybe roasting marshmallows or s’mores.

Tema: A Yiddish girls’ name meaning “palm tree,” for those who grew up going to Jewish summer camp among the palms in Southern California and Florida.

Yaara: The Hebrew word for “forest” is a lovely way to commemorate the forest settings of so many Jewish summer camps and overnight camping trips taken among the trees.

Unisex names

Agam: The Hebrew word for “lake,” because many campers have fond memories learning to swim, boat and sail on the lake under the sun.

Dror: Perfect for those parents who grew up camping in the liberal Jewish youth movement Habonim Dror, the name means “freedom” or “sparrow” in Hebrew.

Meitar: Meaning “string” in Hebrew, this name references the importance of strings at camp, from friendship bracelet making to playing the guitar.

Rani: This name means “Joyful song,” in Hebrew, since Jewish summer camp is chock-full of sing-alongs and Shabbat jams.

Shoval: Hiking is such an integral and special part of the camp experience; this beautiful name means “trail” in Hebrew.

The post Jewish Baby Names Inspired by Jewish Summer Camp appeared first on Kveller.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock the last month, it’s likely you’ve come across World Cup 2026 media. Over one thousand players represented 48 different countries, facing off in games that took place across North America, including many in the United States. It is a huge deal, especially as interest in soccer continues to rise in the U.S.

What has interested me more than the actual matches are the human stories that have emerged from the tournament: watching underdogs like Cape Verde defy expectations, Norwegian social media darling Erling Haaland’s off-pitch antics, and the drama of Folarin Balogun’s red card — these have been welcome distractions during this long, hot summer. 

Given the huge number of players who have been competing in this World Cup, it has been a bit surprising to hear that the main Jewish storyline is that American backup goalie Matt Turner is the only Jewish player at the Cup this year. I found myself feeling a bit baffled over that. Over a thousand players and 48 countries, and only one Jew? I pondered every time I saw headlines about Turner. Can that be right? 

Despite my best internet sleuthing efforts, I couldn’t find any other Jewish players. There are a few high-profile Jews filling other roles in the World Cup. NBC/Telemundo play-by-play announcer Andrés Cantor, for instance, is Jewish. The name might not be familiar, but his signature “GOOOOOOOAL” call probably is. The Argentinian-American is famous for how he announces goals on TV, and has appeared in all kinds of American pop culture, from Geico commercials to “The Simpsons” and “The Muppets”! 

Additionally, Cantor’s son Nico, who is also Jewish, has made a name for himself covering the World Cup (and soccer in general) over the last few years. Other Jewish soccer personalities have been visible on-air, too, including José Peckerman, who coached Lionel Messi early in his career, and former U.S. Men’s Team player Benny Feilhaber. 

The roster of Jewish footballers and personalities was slim for the 2026 World Cup — there’s no denying that. It is also true, however, that this year’s one Jewish player has a really interesting connection to his Judaism. He has spoken openly about discovering his Jewish heritage as an adult when he found his great-grandmother’s emigration papers. This fact led him to research his Jewish ancestors and their customs more, until he fully embraced Judaism in his own life. 

This is a story that is very similar to my own, and one that — speaking from experience — makes his Jewishness even more special. It wasn’t only something he was born into, but something he sought and then consciously adopted. Matt Turner isn’t just the World Cup’s only Jewish athlete; he is the only athlete at the World Cup who chose Judaism. 

It makes me think of another Jewish face that has been all over this World Cup: David Beckham, who is Jewish through his matrilineal grandfather. Like Turner, he has spoken openly about his family’s Jewish roots, and how important it is to him to keep those traditions alive. 

So, this might not have been a record-breaking year for the number of Jewish athletes at the World Cup, but I think that the Jewish faces that were visible throughout the tournament represent something important. We might not be a large group of people, but we — and the connections we have to our pasts and to each other — are mighty indeed. 

The post Jewish Representation at the World Cup Is Small But Proud appeared first on Kveller.

On June 15, 2009, I was finalizing the cupcake order (again, it was 2009) for my wedding in two weeks when something incredible happened: I heard the words “mazel tov” on the radio in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

This was the summer of many monumental events: In two weeks I would marry a guy I had met at my college Hillel four years earlier. In ten days Michael Jackson would die, cementing his music as the soundtrack to our Irish honeymoon. But that day, “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas had just dropped, and as anyone who has attended a bar or bat mitzvah party since the summer of 2009 knows, the song includes the line “Fill up my cup/mazel tov (l’chaim!).”

Not to be dramatic, but after months of frustration trying to plan a Jewish wedding in South Louisiana — an event so rare that no vendors had the infrastructure in place to take on a Sunday wedding — to hear Hebrew on the radio was shocking. Healing, even. Ultimately, the song was too new to make an impact at my wedding, but these days it’s a staple on dance floors of all kinds, especially Jewish life cycle events. In an interview last month, Black Eyed Peas frontman Will.i.am explained that yes, this was by design.

“So before ‘I’ve got a Feeling,’ we would play, like, huge weddings,” Will.i.am said on Visionaries Moments, a new series from UPROXX, the digital media company of which he is a part owner. “I noticed that between weddings, celebrative events, bar mitzvah, bat mitzvah, there’s like a certain playlist that plays. They’re playing ‘Celebration.’ They’re playing ‘We Are Family,’ ‘Good times.’ I’m like, ‘Yo, I need a song that goes in there.’”

The Black Eyed Peas achieved that and more: “I Gotta Feeling” won a Grammy, broke multiple music industry records and in 2025 was certified diamond, which means it has sold more than 10 million copies in the U.S. In the UPROXX interview, Will.i.am goes even deeper into how the phrase mazel tov made its way into the song. 

“The math for that was ‘Psycho killer,’” he said, referring to The Talking Heads song whose chorus starts with “Psycho Killer/Qu’est-ce que c’est?” “Four syllables in English, then three syllables in a different language.” Even if people don’t know what the words mean, he said, they recognize the cadence.

“That type of songwriting recipe — I love breaking things down like that.”

Once he had written the line, Will.i.am ran it by one of his childhood friends, Binyamin. The Hebrew, he said, was a nod to Binyamin’s dad.

“We made our first demo in his bedroom. And his dad, Ami, was really nice to us. And I always wanted to tell Ami thank you. So I’m like yo, [Binyamin], check this out.”

Binyamin had notes on the original line, which was just “Fill up my cup/mazel tov.”

“He’s like, well it’s fill up my cup, l’chaim, not mazel tov.”

So Will.i.am added a “l’chaim” to the second chorus  and Binyamin gave it his seal of approval. “He was like, ‘yeah, that’ll work.’”

In 2025, the account @organizermemes posted on X: “Unironically the best time to be Jewish in the last 2000 years was very clearly 2009 when the black eyed peas included the line ‘fill up my cup, Mazel tov.’” As a young bridezilla having a religious experience in my Toyota Prius, I 100% agree. L’chaim!

The post Yes, “I Gotta Feeling” By the Black Eyed Peas Has a Jewish Backstory appeared first on Kveller.

In New York City, the summer heat is inescapable. The air is thick, too heavy for a breeze nor any moment of temporary relief from the waterfall of sweat running down one’s back. There’s no commercial A/C unit powerful enough to contend with the mid-July sun over the five boroughs — and if you dare kick yours up to full blast, you’ll be rewarded with a fat bill from Con-Edison at the end of the month. In times like these, there’s only one thing to do: Pack your bag and head to Grossinger’s Resort in the heart of the Borscht Belt.

Never mind Grossinger’s officially closed its doors in 1986. Thanks to the new documentary “We Met at Grossinger’s,” viewers can transport themselves back to the iconic, deeply nostalgic Jewish retreat in the Catskills.

Directed by Paula Eiselt, “We Met at Grossinger’s” tracks the history of the Catskills resort from its roots as an early 20th-century boardinghouse run by a Polish Jewish immigrant family to its peak as a haven of Jewish culture that inspired “Dirty Dancing.” Through interviews with the Grossinger family, engaging animation and archival photos and footage, the full picture of the Grossinger’s comes to life.

At the center of this story was Jennie Grossinger, the matriarch of Grossinger’s and the “Queen of Hospitality.” What began as a specifically Jewish leisure space in a time when systemic exclusion of Jews in American public life was the norm, under Jennie’s management became a place dictating the culture at large. Figures like Jackie Robinson, Eddie Fisher and Eleanor Roosevelt visited Grossinger’s. The art of stand-up comedy flourished there, too. Milton Berle, Mel Brooks, Joan Rivers, Billy Crystal and Jerry Seinfeld all honed their chops on stage at Grossinger’s before becoming household names.

“The Borscht Belt wasn’t just a place — it was a spirit of resilience and joy that helped shape American entertainment and social life,” Paula explained in a press release. “Collaborating with the Grossinger family and uncovering this forgotten history — my own history — has been an act of joyful reclamation. These hotels were more than vacation spots; they were spaces of inclusion and cultural affirmation, built in defiance of exclusion.”

“We Met at Grossinger’s” will be playing at the 2026 San Francisco Jewish Film Festival on Aug. 1. For information on future screenings, check out “We Met At Grossinger’s” on Instagram.

The post ‘We Met at Grossinger’s’ Is a Nostalgic Journey Through the Jewish Catskills appeared first on Kveller.

On its surface, there is nothing particularly Jewish about the French novel “I Who Have Never Known Men,” whose English translation has been experiencing an unexpected surge in popularity this past year despite being published last century (that is, in 1995). 

Jacqueline Harpman’s sparse dystopian novel centers on a group of 40 women living in an underground bunker for reasons unknown — to both the women and the reader. What we do know is that a rotation of male guards keep the women in check, providing food and enforcing bedtimes that may or may not have to do with the typical 24-hour day. And we know the narrator was the only child taken into the bunker; the other 39 women were adults, many with families and children they were separated from. None of them can quite remember what happened that fateful day they were captured — the narrator was too young to recall; the other women suspect they may have been drugged. All we get are hazy memories of screaming, panic, fire and something terrible afoot.

This all might sound par for the course for the genre. Many modern readers have compared “I Who Have Never Known Men” to Margeret Atwood’s feminist dystopian books, her most famous being “The Handmaid’s Tale.” Many suspect that the book’s sudden popularity, thanks in large part to enthusiastic readers on BookTok, could be tied to the current political climate, the same reason the aforementioned “Handmaid’s Tale” struck a nerve (and the best-seller list) decades after its publication.

But learning about Harpman’s own background, a more specific picture starts to come into focus, if not on the page, then in the subtext of the story. 

Harpman was born in Belgium in 1929, and her father, Andries Harpman, was Jewish. In 1940, when the Nazis began their invasion of Belgium and Jacqueline was 10 years old, her family fled to Casablanca, Morocco. There, as the Forward reports, they faced institutional antisemitism. Harpman recalled a particular experience at age 13 of attending a lecture by a fascist French politician who made “a torrent of vile remarks against the Jews” that she regretted not denouncing. When the war ended in 1945, her family returned to Belgium. She was 16.

While not quite as young as the unnamed narrator — who the women simply refer to as “the child” — was when first taken into captivity, knowing Harpman experienced such an upheaval to her life under the threat of extinction at a young, formative age surely seems to echo some choices in the book.

And of course, the bunker itself, with its foreign enforcers and cruel conditions, easily harkens images of the Holocaust.

In an afterword for a 2019 reissue of the book, Sophie Mackintosh writes of the women’s approach to the inevitability of their death: “The narrator admires those who have died calmly, facing the terror, unafraid. It is human to be afraid of death, of unimaginable pain. And it’s another kind of humanity to transcend it.”

Mackintosh goes on to directly connect that approach to death to Harpman’s experience with the war. “There are echoes of concentration camps in the senseless cruelty of their confinement, the endless cracking of the whips of the mysterious prison guards, the sickening inevitably, as they discover, over and over and over, that everyone else on the planet imprisoned in the same way as them, has perished. And for what?” she writes. “We are kidding ourselves if we think of these cruelties as unique to a fictional alien planet.” 

But the part that I can’t stop thinking about is what happens to the women when they are able to escape.

When sirens start blaring at the exact moment one of the guards is unlocking the portion of the bunker the women are kept in called “the cage,” their circumstances change in a remarkable way: The guards vanish, and they are free.

Or are they? 

Emerging from the bunker for the first time in what the women assume to be at least a decade or longer, they find themselves in a land they don’t recognize, a barren expanse with no sign of civilization. They wonder if they are even still on Earth. 

As they begin a journey searching for signs of life, or any path of return to normalcy, or just a clue as to what actually happened to them, they are granted few answers. Any shock and joy at being able to escape is soon subsumed by still more dire questions: How can they continue to survive, and why should they even try?

“There had been so much hope when we’d escaped from the prison, and then the slow dissipation, the gradual abandonment of all expectations, a defeat that had killed everything without a battle,” the narrator says. “We were as much prisoners out in the open as we had been behind bars.”

I think of the Jewish families, like Harpman’s, who escaped one country, only to experience more antisemitism in another. The Jews who fled Poland and sought salvation in the Soviet Union, only to be put in one of Stalin’s gulags. I think of the families who eventually were able to return to their home countries to find it unrecognizable — their synagogues destroyed, their once lively shtetls decimated, their culture, history and languages gone. And I think how any survivor of the Holocaust anywhere was made to continue living in a world that allowed such an atrocity to happen.

Prisons, cruelties, horrors — you might think I am talking about an exceptionally dark book. But what actually makes “I Who Have Never Known Men” so remarkable to me is the way in which it left me feeling not depleted, but invigorated. There is a string of hope throughout, and a reminder that at the core of our humanity is the will to live, and to seek connection while doing so. Our narrator, though nameless, is not soulless. She is brimming with ideas, curiosities, compassion and plans. She may be one of the only few people left in existence, but to the end, she will continue to ask questions, even if she’ll never get her answers.

It’s no surprise that a Jewish woman who narrowly evaded one of history’s darkest moments infused her protagonist with so much light. 

The post Only a Jewish Woman Could Write a Dystopian Novel Like This appeared first on Kveller.

For many women my age (read: roughly Zillennial), Jewish actress Louise Lasser is best known for her brief but notable stint on “Girls.”

Playing Beadie, an ailing photographer who hires Jessa (Jemima Kirke) to be her assistant, Lasser put on a masterclass in acting. Beadie is funny, pathetic and all together emotionally compelling as she asks Jessa to help her die by suicide, only to change her mind after she has taken the pills. Season three of Lena Dunham‘s magnum opus ends with Jessa hurriedly calling paramedics to come pump Beadie’s stomach as the artist cries out, “I don’t want to die! Oh, God!” (Spoiler alert: Beadie lives.)

On July 6, 2026, Lasser passed away of natural causes. She was 87 years old. But, as Lena Dunham took to Instagram to remind us, Louise Lasser’s career is more than just her three-episode arc on “Girls.”

“When we were making ‘Girls,’ we got a chance to work with so many legends. But Louise Lasser was always canon, the prototype,” Dunham recounted. She also shared that she wrote the role of Beadie with Lasser in mind, but had trouble locating her. Only after posting on Twitter for leads was Dunham connected with Lasser, who agreed to play Beadie. Dunham went on to say the days working with Lasser were “some of the most dynamic, delightful, and appropriately challenging of my career.”

“I will remember her, lit as she requested and rewriting all her lines, as one of the best to ever do it,” Dunham concluded. “Rest in power dear Louise, and thank you for all you gave us, on our set and over your whole career.”

Born on April 11, 1939 to Paula (Eisenreich) Lasser and Sol Jay Lasser, an accountant and author of the “Everyone’s Income Tax Guide” series, Louise Lasser was master of deadpan comedy and a versatile performer. She got her start in performance at Brandeis University, studying political science but performing in shows on the side. Ultimately, she would drop out in her senior year to move back to New York, study with legendary actor Sanford Meisner and perform in revues in downtown bars and cafes.

It was a move that proved successful. In 1962, Lasser understudied Barbra Streisand in Broadway’s “I Can Get It For You Wholesale,” a musical set in the distinctly Jewish locale of the 1930s in New York’s Garment District. When Streisand left the production, Lasser briefly replaced her in the role of Miss Marmelstein.

Her next big thing would come in the form of her romantic and professional relationship with controversial Jewish comedian and filmmaker Woody Allen. The pair first collaborated together on an unaired pilot Allen wrote called “Laughmakers,” in which Alan Alda and Lasser starred as improv comics. Allen and Lasser would eventually get married in 1966, and Lasser would have roles in Allen’s early projects “What’s Up, Tiger Lily?,” “Take the Money and Run,” “Bananas” and “Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex* (But Were Afraid To Ask).” Though they divorced in 1970, Allen and Lasser kept in touch. He once said that Lasser was, “charming, smart as a whip, quick, very funny and witty.”

Working with Allen helped Lasser develop as an actress and comedian, and ultimately her breakthrough would come playing the titular character in the satirical soap opera “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.” Playing am American housewife dealing with the burgeoning hyper-consumerism of American culture in the 1970s, as well as other social issues of the day, Lasser quickly became a household name.

New York Times critic John J. O’Connor wrote at the time that Lasser had “an uncanny ability to touch as well as tickle.” Meanwhile, Chris Koseluk wrote for The Hollywood Reporter recently,“Lasser instilled the character with a noble dignity and a quiet sense of desperation that slowly continued to build during the series’ 325 episodes, highlighted by Mary’s meltdown at the end of season one on ‘The David Susskind Show.'” She was nominated for an Emmy in 1976 in the category of “Special Classification of Outstanding Program and Individual Achievement.”

Though “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman” was cancelled in 1977, and Lasser dealt with a period of public scrutiny for drug use and public mental health struggles (coming to a head when she hosted a final episode of the first season of SNL), Lasser’s career was still fruitful. She had recurring roles in “Taxi,” “It’s a Living” and “St. Elsewhere.” She worked with Woody Allen again in the movie “Stardust Memories” and appeared in films like “Happiness,” “Requiem For a Dream,” “National Lampoon’s Gold Diggers” and “Funny Pages.”

It was also in her later life that she connected with her Jewish heritage. Lasser once said there was “not a Jewish thing” in her house growing up. As Lasser explained in a 2013 interview, “I was one of those Jews who sort of denied her heritage because I didn’t look it, no one thought I was Jewish, and only really recently in the last year or so have I found myself incorporating, feeling lucky I had that background. I thought it was a pretty hip background.”

Now, Louise Lasser’s legacy as a “prototype” of a hilarious, compelling performer is a part of the hip background of being Jewish. For that, every laugh, gasp or tear she inspired in us, may her memory be a blessing.

The post Jewish Actress Louise Lasser Was, According to Lena Dunham, ‘The Prototype’ appeared first on Kveller.

When I was in school in the ’90s and early 2000s, having a unique name — one that wasn’t Lauren or Katie or Rachel — felt almost like a curse, like further proof that I didn’t belong. (Of course, my friends named Lauren, Katie and Rachel tell me today that they hated having the same name as four other people in their class.)

Today, at least according to my daughter’s elementary school yearbook, having a shared name is an anomaly. Aside from a few pairs of Henrys and Lilys, most of the nearly 500 kids in my daughter’s school don’t share a name with anyone else in their grade.

This might be a reflection of the fact that parents today are looking for unique baby names more than parents were in years past. Alongside that, a cottage baby name industry has emerged. Social media influencers parse through official baby name data, pluck out names that fit certain aesthetics and are obscure but not too obscure and film themselves pontificating on those names. Baby name consultants charge impressive fees to work with couples directly, hand-selecting names that feel like family names, or suggesting names that might bridge the gap between choices couples can’t agree on.

Are social media influencers curating lists of cowgirl-chic baby names because parents want more unique names? Or do parents want more unique names because they’ve learned that you can’t just name your baby after Grandma Linda in a world of cowgirl-chic Siennas and Dakotas?

My friends and I aren’t naming any babies right now, but we’re suckers for this kind of content. We send each other lists that include our kids’ names, puzzle over when “Millicent” became a “cool girl main character name,” and secretly remain subscribed to the baby naming newsletters we signed up for when we were pregnant.

Belonging to a particular culture that has its own naming traditions — in my case, being Jewish — adds another layer. I don’t have any data to suggest that more Jews are going for explicitly Jewish names, but I think having a built-in parameter is enticing right now. Think about it: For parents who live in the U.S. and don’t want an ultra-popular baby name, don’t want to resort to choosing the third most popular spelling on a semi-popular baby name (think: Kayleigh), and think the idea of sifting through every name in the entire universe is exhausting, having an already culled stockpile of names that span generations, continents and languages — each with a rich history connected to their heritage — is an asset. 

In this ecosystem, discussing (and, naturally, arguing about) Jewish baby names feels more fun than ever. We’ve had a Jewish baby name bank on Kveller since around the time we launched in 2010, but our baby name universe has moved beyond consulting a name dictionary and moving on. On Instagram, Kveller readers love to weigh in on detailed requests for baby name suggestions, wax nostalgic about the baby names they chose, connect with other readers who share their Jewish name, and roll their eyes at us for curating lists of Taylor Swift inspired baby names. (We like to think of it as using a cultural hook to amplify under-appreciated baby names — Ayala deserves a second look whether or not it happens to loosely connect to the word “swift!”)

Our fascination with this kind of content — which is, for us, an exploration into culture and trends — is what inspired the Kveller team to start a Jewish baby name of the day email, which launched this week. Featuring biblical classics, modern Israeli monikers, and names that fall under the ever-so-scientific category of “Jew-ish,” it’s meant for anyone who finds names fascinating — baby on the way or not.

The uptick in Jewish baby name interest surprised us at first, but it’s starting to make sense. In a world of baby name lists designed to win over an algorithm, isn’t it nice to see names that connect us to something bigger than that?

Sign up for Kveller’s Jewish Baby Name of the Day newsletter here. With thanks to our sponsor PJ Library — free Jewish children’s books mailed to your door.

The post We’re Obsessed With Jewish Baby Names. Here’s Why. appeared first on Kveller.

At the end of the school year, I had a very particular vision of summer.

There would be long, leisurely afternoons in the garden. My daughter would need little more than her imagination and some markers to entertain herself for hours. The baby would finally get his nap schedule down, and I’d get so much work done while he slept. 

A girl can dream, right? 

In reality, by 10 a.m., I’ve usually had at least two arguments about screen time, pulled multiple mystery objects out of the baby’s mouth (when did he start crawling so fast?!) and attempted to balance work deadlines with camp schedules.

I was foolishly optimistic at the beginning of the summer, hoping it would be a season of slowing down. Instead, it feels just as busy as the school year, only hotter. Which is why I was delighted to stumble across a Jewish practice I hadn’t encountered before: blessing the new moon.

I believe one of the most remarkable aspects of Judaism is the way it encourages us to notice things we might otherwise overlook. Jewish tradition is filled with brachot, blessings that invite us to pause and pay attention. There are blessings for bread and wine, blessings for experiencing something new, blessings for seeing a rainbow and even blessings for using the bathroom. The message is simple but profound: Gratitude is not reserved for life’s biggest moments. It belongs in everyday life, too.

When it comes to the moon, there are actually several rituals, with names like Kiddush Levanah and Birkat HaChodesh, which refer to slightly different customs and practices. What interests me, though, isn’t the halachic fine print, but the basic idea of pausing to welcome a new moon, and with it, a new Hebrew month. 

In a world where most of us spend our days staring at screens — and trying to get our kids to stop staring at theirs — that feels surprisingly radical.

This strikes me as the perfect family activity for summer. My daughter is staying up later anyway. The evenings are warm. The fireflies are out. Why not add “moon hunting” to the list of things we’re doing after dinner?

Children are natural observers of the world around them. They notice worms on the sidewalk, oddly shaped clouds and the first dandelion that pops up in the spring. My daughter can spot a rabbit from a moving car at a distance that seems almost supernatural. Kids are already paying attention to nature; adults are often the ones who have forgotten how. This Jewish ritual encourages adults to delight in what our children are doing simply by existing — a very Jewish practice in itself. 

What I love about the blessing of the moon is that it takes that instinct and gives it a Jewish framework. It reminds us that Judaism isn’t only something that happens in synagogues or around holiday tables. It’s something that happens all around us, even — especially — under the night sky.

The Hebrew calendar itself follows the lunar cycle. For thousands of years, the appearance of the moon has marked the passage of Jewish time. Yet it can be easy to lose sight of that connection, especially when we are already on edge from surviving the daily grind. Summer has a way of rushing by before I realize it’s gone. Perhaps that’s why the blessing of the moon appeals to me so much right now. It asks us to pause for a moment, step outside and notice something beautiful that has been there all along. Whether or not your family is religious in the traditional sense, looking up and talking about the new moon’s importance to Judaism — and the thousands of years of ritual around it — can be a lovely activity.

So sometime after the next new moon, when the first thin sliver of the waxing moon becomes visible, I’ll tuck the baby into bed, gather my daughter, and head outside. There may be complaints about bugs, debates about bedtime and requests for one last snack.

But for a few minutes, we’ll be standing together under the same sky, searching for the same crescent moon that generations of Jews have watched for before us. And in the midst of a season that rushes by, that small act of paying attention feels meaningful.

The moon will continue its journey whether we acknowledge it or not. Judaism, in its wisdom, simply gives us a reason to look up and appreciate it.

If you’d like to recite the formal blessing over the new moon, with your family or by yourself, here it is: 

“Praised are you, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who created (bara’) the skies with his word, and all heaven’s host with the breath of his mouth. He gave them appointed times and roles, and they never miss their cues, doing their Creator’s (konam) bidding with gladness and joy. He is the true creator (po’el) who acts faithfully, and he has told the moon to renew itself. It is a beautiful crown for the people carried by God from birth (Israel), who will likewise be renewed in the future in order to proclaim the beauty of their creator (yotsram) for his glorious majesty. Praised are you, O Lord, who renews new moons. (Sanhedrin 42a)” 

The post This Jewish Ritual Helps Me and My Family Slow Down appeared first on Kveller.

Director Rachel Israel has three feature films under her belt, and they are all full of very different kinds of Jewish joy. There’s “Keep the Change,” a wondrous movie that centers a JCC social support group for autistic adults, “Influenced,” the Jill Kargman comedy about rich Upper East Side moms that centers Kargman as Danielle, one of those moms who is throwing a b’nai mitzvah ceremony for both her kids, and now there’s “The Floaters,” her newest film, which features a Jewish summer camp named Camp Daveed and a group of misfit summer campers called the floaters.

That this movie exists is a miracle, and not just because it’s the best Jewish summer camp movie ever made.

Israel was six months pregnant when she was shooting the movie in the summer heat, filming with “one of those little handheld fans stuck in my bosom, oriented up, between takes to cool,” she told Kveller in an interview last month. The plumbing in the nurses’ office at Camp Tel Yehudah didn’t work, just like the plumbing at the fictional Camp Daveed at the center of “Floaters,” and Israel had to flush the toilet with shower water while filming (she’s fairly certain it’s been fixed since!).

The road to making this film was filled with challenges; they had to get special permission to film amid the SAG-AFTRA strike before they even recruited the principal cast. And the heat and the fan weren’t the only challenges of shooting; bear sightings and lightning storms and a COVID outbreak threatened to — and sometimes did — shut down the shooting of this already tight-budgeted film.

But the vision is brilliant, and the cast is stacked, with Jackie Tohn playing a reluctant but actually really good camp counselor for said floaters, Sarah Podemski playing her best friend who manages the camps, Aya Cash as an over-enthused and wonderful camp rabbi, Steve Guttenberg in a delightful side role as Manny an old camp counselor and millennial icon Seth Green as the head of the rival Camp Barack.

We’re so grateful this miraculous movie made it to our screens. And we had so much fun talking to Israel about making “The Floaters.”

On being a floater herself

I was homeschooled, and maybe that has something to do with the heart I have for misfit experience. I felt like I always was [a misfit], so I felt very much like I belonged in that world. I definitely would have been a floater. I wouldn’t have wanted to participate in any of the activities. I’ve always been an artist, and on top of being homeschooled, I didn’t even fit in an art school. I wore Sears sweatpants — I was just not cool.

Why not going to Jewish summer camp actually helped her make this movie

I didn’t go to Jewish summer camp… I feel like as a director, every world should be like, you need to go through that process of discovery and not take for granted that you know a thing. I didn’t know it, and got to discover what it is.

On working with Seth Green

Seth Green was just such a treat. I remember, for instance, we were shooting… it’s actually, gosh, it’s a scene that got cut, but it’s in the… it’s in the end credit scroll, where the sewer system explodes, and he’s covered in it. He went into the make-up department and was like, this is not enough, give me the muck, and he just completely doused himself in the stuff.

He’s such a humble guy, and just knew exactly what to do to take the comedy to that next level; [he knew] that you have to push it further.

On working with the younger cast of floaters

Thani Brant as Tal, Jacob Moskovitz as One-Nut, Jim Kaplan as Tums, Jake Ryan as Wetspot — their characters were great on the page, but [the actors] brought so much backstory to them, so much depth and detail. The first half of the shoot, the floater characters weren’t filming yet, and during that time they formed bonds and worked on their character relationships together. By the time we shot them, there was so much meat there, and their characters became bigger in the edit because we left space for improvisation.

On the “rikkud” — Jewish summer camp dance — scene in the movie

Our producers, Shay, Lily and Becky Corman, went to the summer camp that we shot at, and their parents met there.

Shay would tell me oh my god, you know, the rikkud experience is so central. I didn’t get it until I actually went to a rikkud, which we did weeks before filming, and then I got it. It’s just such a space of joy and relief, and that feeling of youthful energy and sexuality, and all of it… that really did need to be the centerpiece of the movie. It was necessary in capturing that feeling of summer and youthful possibility, regardless of what age you are. I hope we captured it.

On what “The Floaters” is all about

Kveller: I love that this movie is not romance-centered… it’s just really about friendship and the experience of summer camp, and how summer camp is like a mini-coming of age experience for everyone.

Yes, you can be someone different at camp than you can be in other places in your life. Talking to so many people who went — Seth, whose mother was a summer camp director, Sarah, Jackie, the Kormans — frequently the takeaway was that at camp you can be someone else. It’s [a space that] allows you that… and then maybe that [version of you is] someone you can also bring home.

The post Rachel Israel Made an Incredible Movie About Jewish Summer Camp Even Though She Was Never a Camper appeared first on Kveller.

When my toddler daughter first became infatuated with a certain bear family who live on a sunny dirt road deep in Bear County, I had the vague notion that the Berenstain Bears were Jewish. 

That was merely based on their last name, which Mama, Papa, Sister, Brother and Honey share with their creators, Stan and Jan Berenstain, the married couple who created the classic story series in 1962. (Despite confusion, the name has indeed always been Berenstain with an “a,” not Berenstein with an “e,” one of the more well-known cases of the Mandela effect.)

Dealing with secular (and deeply relatable) themes like watching too much TV and eating too much junk food, I didn’t think too much about the Bear family’s religious identity — until we stumbled upon “The Berenstain Bears and the Big Question,” a book in which Sister Bear starts to ask her parents questions about God and they take her to her grandparents’ church on a mission to answer them. 

So… not so Jewish, then?

Soon, I discovered a whole series of more explicitly Christian-themed Berenstain Bears books. While my daughter went deeper into her Berenstain Bears phase, I went down the rabbit hole to uncover more about the Jewish — and not Jewish — connections to these beloved bears and the humans behind them.

Stan Berenstain was Jewish, Jan Berenstain was Episcopalian

In a 2018 interview, Stan and Jan’s son Mike Berenstain said that his father’s family, the Berenstains, were Jews who immigrated to the United States from Ukraine in the 1880s. Stanley Melvin Berenstain was born in 1923 and grew up in West Philadelphia. 

Janice Marian Grant was also born in 1923 in Philadelphia. Her family was a mix of Scottish, Irish and German, and she was raised Episcopalian. 

Stan and Jan met at Philadelphia Museum School of Industrial Art, and found that despite their different background, they had a lot in common, including a love of art. In the introduction to “Child’s Play: The Berenstain Baby Boom,” they explained, “We came from different high schools — city and suburban. Our backgrounds were different — Jewish and Protestant. But we thought of ourselves as, simply, American and, primarily, as artists.”

The couple had two sons, Leo, born in 1948, and Mike, born in 1951. They were married for 59 years, until Stan’s death in 2005. Jan died in 2012.

The original “Berenstain Bears” books covered some Christian holidays, but never Jewish ones

Stan and Jan wrote books about many major holidays, including Christian ones. In 1984, they released “The Berenstain Bears Meet Santa Bear”; in 2002 came “The Berenstain Bears and the Real Easter Eggs.” There was even a 1979 television special called “The Berenstain Bears’ Christmas Tree” written by Stan and Jan Berenstain (and produced by someone named Mordicai Gerstein who was, you guessed it, Jewish). 

Yet they told the Forward in 2002 that despite being asked by fans to write a Hanukkah book, they would never do it. “There’s no way to do it without bringing religion into it,” Stan reasoned. They thought of Christmas as mainstream and popular, so not religious (clearly they forgot the reason for the season, and the fact that you can absolutely celebrate Hanukkah from a more cultural perspective). 

It was their son Mike Berenstain who started releasing religious “Berenstain Bears” books in 2008

The Berenstains did not raise their two sons with much religion. As Mike put it, “they taught us ethics from the Judeo-Christian tradition, but they dealt with their mixed marriage by really not teaching us religion.”

It seems Mike turned to Christianity after marrying his wife Andrea and enrolling their three children in a Quaker school in the Philadelphia suburbs.   

After the death of his father, Mike started co-writing some books with Jan, and eventually authored Christian “Bears” books as part of a series called “Living Lights,” published by the Christian book company Zondervan.

These titles include “The Berenstain Bears: God Loves You,” “The Berenstain Bears Say Their Prayers,” “The Berenstain Bears Learn About Heaven,” “The Berenstain Bears Keep the Faith” and even a full “Berenstain Bears Bible” for early readers. 

While these books offer plenty of wonderful, universal lessons (like being honest, standing up to bullying and having patience), they are clearly written from a Christian perspective, with many featuring quotes from the New Testament on the inside cover, and the story of Jesus told in several of the “Living Lights” holiday books.

We may not ever get a Berenstain Bears Hanukkah book, but there is one book that still seems pretty Jewish

Back to “The Berenstain Bears and the Big Question.” After Sister Bear pops the big question (“Mama, what’s God?”), Papa Bear rambles on about the “billions of stars and planets” while Mama Bear takes her daughter out to the garden to look at the birds, flowers and slugs, which she explains are all God’s creations — that God made everything. Then they go to a service at the Chapel in the Wood, where Sister Bear sits mostly bored and uninspired.

It’s on their walk home from church when Sister Bear asks, “Did God make questions?”

Papa Bear answers, “Mostly questions.” The end. 

A conversation about God that ends with more questions? It doesn’t get much more Jewish than that.

The post Are the Berenstain Bears Jewish? appeared first on Kveller.

The design for the U.S. Postal Service 2026 Hanukkah stamp was revealed last month — and the story behind it has us kvelling.

The first Hanukkah stamp was released in 1996. (It’s worth noting that the first Christmas stamp was released in 1962.) That design — a colorful, collaged menorah that was jointly issued with Israel — served as the de facto Hanukkah Stamp until 2004, when the USPS changed to a roughly bi annual design update. This year’s stamp is a delightful illustrated dreidel on a turquoise background, created by freelance illustrator and illustration professor Lisa Perrin, whose rabbi commented “KVELLING KVELLING KVELLING” when Lisa posted the stamp on Instagram.

Perrin submitted six different illustrations of menorahs and dreidels, and arrived at the final design with help from USPS Art Director Antonio Alcalá, who created the 2024 Hanukkah stamp and whose mother escaped from Nazi Germany on the Kindertransport.

In their official announcement, the USPS notes that the folk art style of the dreidel reflects Perrin’s Jewish heritage. “Jewish folk art has long been a source of inspiration for me,” Perrin told Kveller. “My Master’s Illustration thesis was inspired by Ashkenazi folk tales, symbolism and language. I love looking at historical ketubah designs, and traditional Jewish paper cutting and woodcarving. For my thesis I hand lettered my favorite Yiddish expressions and created illustrations inspired by life on the shtetl. Any time I can connect my creative work to my personal culture and heritage it means a lot.”

This particular work had an even more personal connection: Perrin’s father, Michael Perrin, is a lifelong stamp collector. “[He] has been urging me to pursue illustrating a stamp for my entire creative career — and not subtly,” Lisa said. “After years of nudging, I reached out to some art directors for the United States Postal Service, introduced myself and work, and explained that a stamp would mean a lot to my father. Remarkably, that worked!” Lisa told her USPS contacts that something Jewish would be especially meaningful. “Thus, the Hanukkah stamp was born.”

Naturally, Lisa’s father was verklempt. “A U.S. federal stamp honoring Hanukkah drawn by my Lisa!” he kvelled to Kveller. “Eight days is not enough!”

This year’s Hanukkah stamp will be available Sept. 29. Lisa’s work can be found on her website, where you can also contact her and beg her to bring back her beautiful Jewish food packaging calendar.

The post The Post Office Is Releasing a New Hanukkah Stamp this Year appeared first on Kveller.

An interview with Jackie Tohn is a mechayeh — it gives life. In general I feel like that particular Yiddish word — mechayeh — shouldn’t be said unless you have a luscious white mustache and a regal mane of white hair, or you grew up actually speaking Yiddish on the regular.

But as the youth (used to?) say: Jackie Tohn definitely gives me life. Even when the Jewish “Nobody Wants This” and “Glow” star is couch-ridden after a back injury!

Tohn’s latest project is “The Floaters,” a movie set at a very Jewish summer camp, out in theaters this July 10. Tohn plays Nomi, a rockstar who gets kicked out of her band. She is drafted by her best friend, Mara (Sarah Podemski) to help steer her Jewish summer camp, Camp Daveed, and its “floaters” — the camp misfits — in the right direction, all while dealing with crumbling infrastructure and a bitter rivalry with neighboring Camp Barack, helmed by polo-wearing, golf-cart-riding Daniel (Seth Green).

Tohn is a kveller, and interviewing her is always a delight. We spoke about her own Jewish summer camp experience, her Jewish parents, her onscreen mother in law Tovah Feldshuh and her adorable dogs (Glenn and Steven Spielberg). At one point she broke into song, revisiting an Elton John camp parody and her own summer camp anthem. She also showed me how she tricks Glenn the dog into believing she’s no longer in the room (she hides under a blanket). I wish I could share the entire conversation, but here are some of the highlights.

On her Jewish summer camp experience

I have a deep history with Jewish summer camp, like Adon Olam services on Friday night, the whole thing.

My parents were a camp family. My dad went to Camp Alamar — I think it was in upstate New York — he and his brothers, they all went to Alamar. My dad was working at Camp Roosevelt — again, upstate New York — and it got shut down, so we relocated in 1988 to Camp Lokanda.

I was born a few days after camp ended in 1980 — my mom was super pregnant that summer. They went back to Long Island, and a couple of days later my mom had me. So then the next summer when I was 1 year old, I was at camp. My parents were at camp. My mom was the camp mother, camp driver, and my dad was like the head of the waiters. Then I worked at Twin Oaks Day Camp on Long Island during high school, and then I moved to Los Angeles.

On being a camp superstar

My favorite part of camp was definitely performing. I was a big talent show girl. My dad would play the piano, and I would sing “The Rose” or “Don’t Cry Out Loud.” I was a bit of, if you will, a celebrity at camp — far before I ever got an acting job — but in a joking way, like when we did camp skits for Color War, someone dressed up as me and sang “Don’t Cry Out Loud.” He was a grown man… in fact, he wasn’t a grown man, maybe I was 11, and he was 15, 16… he felt like a grown man. He put on the wig and performed “Don’t Cry Out Loud” and it was like an SNL parody of me, because I just was constantly performing at camp.

My favorite camp song was the Camp Wakanda song that was written over through the years. [Insert Jackie doing a rousing rendition of the song here.]

On camp crafts and Jewish hoarding

I just remembered I was such a badass in the wood shop. I made a gumball machine, I made a sign for my parents.

Kveller: I bet they have it still.

Of course they do, it says “The Tohns!” They’re good at not getting rid of stuff.

Kveller: Yes, that checks out.

You’re like… so, Jewish? I love it. When I talk to my goyishe friends, they’re like, “My mom just sold that, she got rid of everything,” and I’m like, “My mom has scrapbooks of every time I was mentioned in the local newspaper!”

Kveller: Listen, we know how to pack light when we need to get out of places, but we’re going to keep our things until then!

On working with Sarah Podemski

Sarah Podemski is so awesome, and so grounded, and so smart, and such a good actor, and so funny, and so it’s just a delight to work with her. It’s not, you know, obviously this is the cliche of all cliches, but it’s not work! It’s like, Sarah and me hanging out.

On working with Seth Green

Working with Seth is great. I’ve known Seth. I met him at the “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” premiere that I went to as Kristen [Bell]’s date — we became homies. We have very similar senses of humor, and we’ve just been friends ever since… working with him was a dream.

On her BRCA1 diagnosis

Oh boy. So my dad found these lumps under his arm in January of 2025 and they couldn’t find out where the primary cancer was, so then they tested him, they did all the genetic testing… and he came back BRCA1 positive, which I’m pretty sure saved my life.

I went and got tested. I unfortunately had it. It’s interesting, when I talk about it now, I’m like, very machine, like, I had it, I got a double mastectomy…

Kveller: It was obviously very emotional when it was happening.

It still is. I could cry about it anytime… I’ve never been through a medical trauma like this, but there are certain times when I can just absolutely flatly talk about it, give you some facts, and have a great day. And then there are other times where I like just can’t get through it for whatever reason.

On having a camp rabbi

We didn’t really have a camp rabbi, actually. We just had the camp father, who was named Ira Seinfeld, and his wife Lois Seinfeld. Ira Seinfeld wore a polo and long khaki shorts and big, thick-soled, you know, Rockport sneakers, or whatever, and very tall socks that had stripes at the top that went up to, like, his mid shin, almost knee.

On “Nobody Wants This,” Season 3

Kveller: After watching you sing in “The Floaters,” I’m really jonesing for a “Nobody Wants This” musical episode.

I also need there to be a “Nobody Wants This” musical episode. I think the only people who wouldn’t want to jump off a bridge would be me and Kristen. Everybody else would not be pumped.

Kveller: It would be so good, or even just you singing a Passover medley. I don’t know. Just give me some punk rock “Chad Gadya,” Jack Black style. He would be a great guest star!

That’s a great idea. You know, we have [Sarah] Silverman this year!

Kveller: And she’s a rabbi! Are you excited for this new season to be out?

Oh, so, so excited. I mean, can’t wait. It’s a show about this Jewish family, but it’s like they just happen to be Jews. They’re existing in a space there, but they just happen to be Jews.

I love that show for a trillion reasons, but the number one reason is Jewish joy. It just feels good. Thank goodness there are as many historically accurate, horribly dark movies and stories and books about the nightmares that the Jews continue to go through and have always gone through, but [I love that our show is] just some Jewish joy.

Kveller: And Tovah Feldshuh.

She’s unbelievable. She still doesn’t stop doing push-ups before every scene.

The post Jackie Tohn Was a Jewish Summer Camp Superstar appeared first on Kveller.

It’s never a bad time to sit indoors and have a little TV binging marathon — especially when there’s just so much great Jewish TV on the biggest streamers of them all, Netflix.

These shows will take you to Turkey, Mexico and even Egypt; they tell the true stories of spies and kidnappings and the fantastical fictions of every day life; they’re comedies, reality shows and dramas; the stories are full of romance and intrigue and relatable human moments.

Here, in no particular order, are the most Jewish shows to stream on Netflix.

“Nobody Wants This”

Few Jews don’t have an opinion about “Nobody Wants This,” Netflix’s Hot Rabbi romance starring Adam Brody as said rabbi, Kristen Bell as his non-Jewish love interest, and a cast of incredibly hilarious actors, including Jackie Tohn and Tovah Feldshuh. Whether you love it or hate it, we have to accept that Erin Foster show is Netflix’s biggest Jewish hit in recent years — and it’s coming back for season three in the fall of 2026.

Watch here.

“Fauda”

This TV show about a unit of Israeli “mistaaravim,” an army unit that goes undercover in Arab populations, helped catapult both Israeli TV and Lior Raz to fame. It’s fifth season, which centers on October 7, recently aired in Israel, and is hopefully coming to the streamer later this fall.

Watch here.

“Off Road”

This reality TV show has a fairly strong cringe factor in this writer’s opinion, but for those who ever wondered what Israel’s two biggest TV stars — Lior Raz and Rotem Sela — are like in real life, this one is for you. Catch a glimpse of what the two are like as they travel the rugged terrain of Kyrgyzstan in jeeps.

Watch here.

“The Spy”

This dramatic limited TV series stars Sacha Baron Cohen as Israeli spy Eli Cohen, who was caught and executed in Egypt.

Watch here.

“Seven Figures”

One of the most underrated Israeli shows currently on Netflix tells the story of a support group for recent lottery winners; the winners are mandated to attend its sessions before they can get their millions.

Watch here.

“Bros”

This show about two best friends — Guy Amir’s Nisso and Hanan Savyon’s Pini — whose lives are in upheavals and who go together to Krakow, Poland, to see their favorite soccer team play. It is Netflix’s first original Israeli show.

Watch here.

“Jewish Matchmaking”

The first season of this matchmaking show may not have led to any Jewish weddings (at least not between two participants) but it cemented Jewish matchmaker Aliza Ben Shimon as a reality TV star.

Watch here.

“A Body that Works”

This profound and heart-wrenching Israeli show about infertility and relationships stars Rotem Sela and Lior Raz.

Watch here.

“HaShoter HaTov”

This funny Israeli comedy about a local cop takes on toxic masculinity in really fun ways. An American adaptation of the show starring Josh Groban is also available to stream.

Watch here.

“Long Story Short”

This incredibly Jewish and profound animated show from the creator of “BoJack Horseman” is all about Jewish family and is one of the best things streaming on Netflix right now.

Watch here.

“Testament: The Story of Moses”

Netflix’s biblical show about the hero of the Passover story features opinions from rabbis and Israeli actor and model Avi Azulay as Moses.

Watch here.

“How To Make It in America”

Jewish hottie Bryan Greenberg stars in this show as Ben Epstein, a Jewish New Yorker trying to make is as an entrepreneur in the Big Apple.

Watch here.

“Too Much”

Lena Dunham’s show based on her romance with British Jewish husband Luis Felber, is, in part, an ode to incredible Jewish women and moms.

Watch here.

“The Kominsky Method”

Michael Douglas plays retired Jewish actor and acting coach Sandy Kominsky while Alan Arkin, in his final, wonderful TV role plays his former agent Norman. It also stars Lisa Edelstein and Paul Reiser.

Watch here.

“Grace and Frankie”

This highly bingeable friendship sitcom stars Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin, with Fonda playing WASP-y Grace and Tomlin playing hippie Jewish Frankie, whose husbands leave them for each other.

Watch here.

“Russian Doll”

Natasha Lyonne’s excellent Netflix time loop comedy beautifully tackles Jewish intergenerational trauma.

Watch here.

“Unorthodox”

This show, based on the book by Deborah Feldman, earned star Shira Haas an Emmy and Golden Globe nomination, for playing a fictionalized version of Feldman — a formerly Orthodox woman who goes on a journey of discovery in Germany.

Watch here.

“My Unorthodox Life”

The even more controversial take on the transition from Orthodox to, well, secular life, is a reality show that centers formerly Orthodox businesswoman Julia Haart and her children as they navigate life is secular society.

Watch here.

“Heirs to the Land”

Jordi Frades, executive producer of “Heirs to the Land,” said the show wants do for the Spanish Inquisition what “Schindler’s List” has done for the Holocaust. It’s an admirable feat, and this 14th-century period show definitely has dense Jewish representation.

Watch here.

“The Club”

This excellent Turkish show is about a Jewish mother who finds work at a nightclub in 1950s Istanbul. It’s full of gorgeous Sephardi representation.

Watch here.

“No One Saw Us Leave”

This fascinating Mexican show is based on the true kidnapping story of two children in Mexico’s insular Jewish community back in the 1960s.

The post All the Jewish TV You Can Stream on Netflix appeared first on Kveller.

I’ve organized my life in a paper planner for decades. Every year I’d buy a beautiful planner to manage my tasks, appointments and kids’ schedules, and every year I’d pencil in Jewish holidays and Shabbat candle-lighting times around a calendar that starts in January, smack in the middle of a Hebrew year that began the previous September. 

Most planners limit Jewish holidays to Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Hanukkah — and mark only the first day at that. My favorite holiday, Sukkot, is never mentioned. Counting the Omer? Celebrating the giving of the Torah on Shavuot? Not a chance. Simchat Torah? Nope.

There’s a billion-dollar industry built on aesthetic lifestyle planners, sold by the millions —  but none are built with a Jewish woman in mind. There’s a particular kind of tiredness that comes from not being seen, and so I decided to create one. 

Years ago, I’d made a mock-up for a Jewish weekly planner I never finished, too busy with life, work and kids. But when an ad for a five-day design challenge showed up in my news feed, my Jewish planner came to mind and something in me said it was time. By the end of the week, I’d dug out my old files and started over. I’d been circling this idea for more than a decade, between jobs and raising three babies, but only recently did I understand what I was really after: not just a place to write things down, but a tool that honored my whole identity. Something that kept me connected to Jewish life on the ordinary days, not only on Shabbat and the holidays.

I wanted the Hebrew calendar to be my foundation, not a footnote. I wanted my kids’ pickups and my deadlines to sit on the same page as Shabbat and the holidays — major and minor, each on the day it actually begins. I wanted to stop keeping separate time in my head, stop pinning a second calendar to the kitchen wall, stop writing myself into the margins. And I wanted it to hold the whole spectrum of Jewish women — cultural, secular, traditional, interfaith and everywhere in between — whether you’re well-versed or just beginning to learn.

The planner has Jewish holidays major and minor already noted within its pages for all days. Rosh Chodesh and the weekly Torah portion are also already marked. (M. Welch/Copper Mirror Press)

When it came time to name what I’d made, I thought about the copper mirrors in Parashat Vayakhel, the weekly Torah portion that covers Exodus 35:1–38:20. As the Israelites build the Mishkan, the portable tabernacle, the women bring their copper mirrors to be melted down for the washing basin to be used in the tabernacle. Those small mirrors had been used by the Israelite women in Egypt to beautify themselves for their husbands and keep children coming into the world — a symbol of hope when the men had none. The midrash, the rabbinical commentary on the Torah portion, says Moses rejected them at first as symbols of vanity, but God overrules him: “Accept them — these are more beloved to Me than all the rest.”

In other words, when the men were broken and saw no reason to hope, it was the women — with these very mirrors, with small private acts of stubborn faith — who kept our people going. Something ordinary, carried out of Egypt and used faithfully day after day, became something holy — a vessel for reflection became a vessel for renewal. I believe paper has the same power. I named my company Copper Mirror Press for those women, who understood long before I did that the small, faithful, ordinary acts are what sustain us.

It’s not about grand gestures or proclamations. It’s about small, ordinary things, done faithfully in the privacy of our own homes — even when it feels futile, even when it feels hard. And I’ve come to believe a planner, of all things, can hold that same quiet work: keeping the Jewish calendar in front of us every day, so that keeping Jewish time becomes a natural part of how we plan our lives. The Copper Mirror Weekly Planner leaves room for whatever speaks to you — the observances you already hold, the traditions you’re only curious about, the Torah portion you want to read about this week. Whatever kavanah (intention) you bring, there’s no one right way to use it. Which is precisely the point. We’ve spent our lives living between two calendars. I built this so we wouldn’t have to.

The Copper Mirror Weekly Planner — a hardcover, Hebrew-Gregorian planner running July 2026 through June 2027 — is available to order now at coppermirrorpress.com. Kveller readers receive 10% off their first order and free shipping with code KVELLER.

This is a paid post. Kveller’s editorial team had no role in its production.

The post The Multi-Billion Dollar Planner Industry Ignores Jewish Women. I Fixed That. appeared first on Kveller.

When I was in high school — my peak “OMG my parents don’t understand me” years — my dad gave me a DVD: “The Best of Gilda Radner on SNL.” I probably rolled my eyes and went back to cutting out pictures of Britney Spears for my vision board, but I realize now that he understood me more than I did: I was a Jewish, frizzy-haired oddball who was a little bit funny and needed some positive Jewish inspiration to reach my full comedic potential.

Because of that, I have a soft spot for Gilda Radner, which I understand makes me no different than, like, 60% of Jewish women. So let me propose something: because of our very unique connection to Gilda Radner, maybe we all need Shinola’s $2,500 Gilda Radner watch.

Last month, to coincide with what would have been Radner’s 80th birthday, the legendary Detroit watchmaker Shinola launched a collection inspired by the Detroit-native comedian as part of their Great American series. (Past collections have honored Georgia O’Keefe, Maya Angelou, Muhammed Ali and… the Statue of Liberty.) The collection made its way to me via my algorithm, of course. An Instagram post of SNL’s Ashley Padilla (please watch this sketch) and Molly Shannon first caught my eye; then I noticed the big red watches they were wearing. Red, it turns out, was Gilda Radner’s favorite color — and an iconic part of her legacy.

“Red Jasper was the perfect dial choice,” reads Shinola’s copy. “No two are the same.”

Since 1995, red doors have marked the entrance to Gilda’s Club in cities across the U.S. and Canada. A nonprofit started after Radner’s tragic death from ovarian cancer — a disease that disproportionately affects Ashkenazi Jews — Gilda’s Club was the brainchild of Radner’s widow, Gene Wilder, and Joanne Bull, the psychotherapist specializing in cancer diagnoses that Radner saw during her illness. The idea was based on a community center that Wilder said brought Radner great comfort. Gilda’s Club Detroit will receive a portion of the proceeds of Shinola’s Gilda Radner collection.

There are two watches and a red travel case in the collection. I’m partial to the daintier Runabout watch ($1,995), which has a bar link bracelet and a ring of diamonds. (“Glittering with star power as magnetic as Gilda herself,” the product page says.) My husband, a watch enthusiast, said, “It’s a good watch” in a satisfied tone of voice I can’t quite capture in text but you’ll just have to trust me.

The other watch, the Runwell Automatic ($2,500), is bigger, with a leather strap. The mechanics are visible through what Shinola calls an “open heart” window — “a fitting tribute to a woman who always wore her heart on her sleeve.” This watch is modeled on Shinola’s website by Jewish comedy great Alan Zweibel, original SNL writer and Gilda Radner’s close friend and collaborator — he even wrote a book-turned-play about his beloved friend, where he depicted the two of them bonding over their Jewish families and in which he wrote the following phone exchange between himself and Radner:

“I have cancer.”
“Gilda…?”
“I have ovarian cancer, Zweibel, and I need you to help me get through this part of my life.”
“…I will.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. What should I do first?”
“Make me laugh.”

I’ll admit it: When I first saw Shinola’s Gilda Radner watch, I was a little skeptical. But now I’m all in — that is, I would be in, if I were the kind of person who spent money on watches.

The post I’m Starting To Think I Need This $2,000 Watch Inspired by Jewish Legend Gilda Radner appeared first on Kveller.

When you tune in to season three of “Nobody Wants This” sometime later this year, don’t be too surprised if you see Karlie Kloss get a writing credit.

In a recent interview for the Bloomberg Original series “The Circuit,” the 33-year-old Jewish model revealed that she has found the hot rabbi Netflix show extremely relatable. In fact, she has shared some of her own experiences with converting to Judaism with “Nobody Wants This” creator and writer Erin Foster.

“My friend’s actually the writer of the show and I texted her,” Kloss exclaimed, referring to Foster. “I was like, ‘Girl, for season 2, 3, 4, I got more material for you,’ you know, like, ‘Call me.’”

What exact experiences Kloss is referring to, she didn’t say. But perhaps it could include the rumors that her now-husband Joshua Kushner’s brother Jared (yes, that one) referred to Kloss as a “shiksa” and that the Kushner family as a whole refused to meet her for the first six years of her and Josh’s relationship.

The Kushners did, however, finally meet Kloss after she completed the conversion process ahead of getting engaged to Josh in 2018. The couple were later married in a small Jewish ceremony.

“I fell in love with somebody whose faith was a huge part of who he is, and I knew that from the start,” Kloss added about her husband. “And choosing that I wanted it in my life. I’m really proud of that choice.”

Even so, Kloss says she didn’t convert just for her husband. “This is my life and I am an independent, strong woman,” Kloss elaborated for British Vogue in 2019. “It was only after many years of studying and talking with my family and friends and soul searching that I made the decision to fully embrace Judaism in my life and start planning for a future with the man I chose to marry.”

Now, that future includes three children together, Levi Joseph, Elijah Jude and Rae Florence — the latter of whom is named after Joshua’s Holocaust survivor grandmother.

So could a future storyline in “Nobody Wants This” be from Kloss’s life? Potentially! What we know so far about season three is this: Filming wrapped in May 2026 and the season is slated to debut at some point later this year. (Check out these adorable behind-the-scenes photos!) So far, season three guest stars include Sarah Silverman, Erin Foster, Sadie Sandler, Andrew Rannells, Keyla Monterroso Mejia, Steven Weber and Avan Jogia. And based on characters like Rabbi Eden (Silverman), the teacher of Joanne’s intro to Judaism class, and Sebastian (Rannells), Joanne’s intro to Judaism class arch-nemesis, it’s clear that Joanne is at least starting the conversion process.

If a story from Kloss’s own life does eventually make it into the show, all we request is that Karlie Kloss gets her own cameo.

The post Could Karlie Kloss Be Inspiration for Future Seasons of ‘Nobody Wants This’? appeared first on Kveller.

Cries of “one bam!” and “two dot!” echoed through the halls of the Museum of Jewish Heritage as New York’s first-ever Jewish Mah Jongg Festival drew more than 350 lovers of the popular tile-based game to Lower Manhattan on Sunday and Monday.

Co-presented by Kveller and its parent company, 70 Faces Media, along with Modern Mahjong and the Museum of Jewish Heritage, The New York Jewish Mah Jongg Festival consisted of two action-packed days of lessons, social gameplay, panel discussions about the Chinese history and the Jewish connections to the game, as well as competitive tournament play.

The eager participants, who ranged in age from teens to 99 years young, came to New York from over 24 states and Canada to learn new skills, meet mah jongg luminaries in person, buy exclusive mah jongg-related merchandise and connect with fellow-minded mahj-lovers.

“It’s incredible to see so many people come together to express their love for the game, and to see a warm Jewish community forming before our eyes,” said Gabe Friedman, 70 Faces Media’s director of editorial experiences. “Because that’s what the game does — it brings strangers together to the table.”

We caught up with several festival-goers on Sunday to hear first-hand about their love of mah jongg and what the festival meant to them. 

Rachel Pruett, who has been playing mah jongg “for less than a year,” came to the festival from Austin, Texas. “I love the history — from both sides — and I love that it’s challenging,” she said. “Sometimes I hate that it’s challenging but I love that it really occupies my mind.”

And just where did she get that fabulous mah jongg tile-print dress? Alas, for now, it is one of a kind. “I have a casual love for mah jongg, want to learn more, and I sew — and so, opportunity,” she said. 

Manhattan-based college students Damion and Abby, who came to the festival as part of a Watson Foundation fellowship, had at least two brand-new experiences on Sunday: They tried their first-ever Dr. Brown’s Cel-Ray soda, and they took a beginners’ mah jongg lesson. Would they like to keep playing? “Definitely,” said Damion. “It seems interesting.”

Modern Mahjong co-founder Donna Kassman took a break from teaching the game to staff her company’s table at the second-floor vendor area alongside her husband, Bruce. “I am amazed at the turnout and the excitement — and the thank you’s we are getting,” Kassman said. 

Kassman, who has taught more than 10,000 people to play alongside her friend and business partner Dara Collins, said a highlight of teaching in-person at the festival was “the a-ha moments,” explaining her delight when someone tells her, “I’ve been playing for years — you taught us something new!”

Connecticuters and regular players Annie Fers (right), who runs her own mah jongg instruction business, Mahjong on the Go, and her friends Missy White (left) and Nina Falco (center) took a break from the festival’s scheduled programming to enjoy some casual play in the museum’s cafe. “We love all things mah jongg so we said we have to go,” said Fers, “and of course we had to get our wine.”

“I’m having a blast,” said White. “This is awesome.”

“This is our first big get-together with other mahj-ers,” Fers added. “We saw the seminar this morning and we learned a few things that we’ll go back and teach others.”

Chris Goodson and Joan Nurre, taking a moment to enjoy the views of New York Harbor from the museum’s events hall, came to the festival all the way from Huntsville, Alabama — it’s the largest mah jongg gathering either has ever attended. Nurre’s sister taught her how to play about a year ago. She said she loves “the community; the aspect of being able to gather with friends and enjoy a game.”

Barry Joseph, author of “Seltzertopia” and a co-founder of the Brooklyn Seltzer Museum, just started researching a book about mah jongg with the tentative subtitle: “How generations of Jewish women formed community through a Chinese game.”

Joseph — who has previously written books about Jews, for Jews and about games — had no personal connection to the game. Or so he thought. “As soon as I went to the first Facebook group and signed up, I saw all the other people who were also doing mah jongg,” he said. “Friends from elementary school, people from my current temple, parents of my kids’ camp friends and on and on. It turned out my entire world was surrounded by mah jongg, it was just invisible to me.”

“To come to this event, here in New York … doing it at this institution that’s about what it’s about, has been bashert,” he said, using the Yiddish word for “destiny.” 

Susan Koslovsky, a New Yorker whose primary residence is in Boca Raton, was waiting for a seat in an “open play” game. Koslovsky loves mah jongg because it’s “very stimulating for your mind,” she said. 

Koslovsky turned 70 in March, and for her birthday, her entire family learned to play — including her husband and her seven grandchildren, who range in age from 9 to 19. 

Koslovsky has a regular weekly game in Florida, and the mah jongg table is always set up in her New York apartment. “I’m always looking for a new game,” she said. “I love meeting new people. You can sit down with anyone and play.” 

Friends Karri Kaufman and Geri Weiss came to the festival from Bayside, Queens. Kaufman first tried learning how to play mah jongg in 2019 but “was totally confused, “she said. But last year, when a cousin found their grandmother’s “gorgeous” set, “I was able to pick it up at that point,” she said. 

Kaufman got her first set this past Mother’s Day, and now Kaufman has a weekly game as well as a regular game with family and friends. “I’m a little obsessed with it,” she admitted.

Kaufman said she enjoyed learning about the history of mah jongg and its Jewish connections at the festival. Also, “I loved just walking into the room where all these different people were playing from all these different areas,” she said. “I just sat down with strangers; it was really nice.”

For social worker, author and Kveller contributor Carla Naumburg, mah jongg is a family affair. Naumburg came to the festival with her sister Daniela, who taught her how to play two years ago, and her 16-year-old daughter, Rose. 

“I found it incredibly meaningful to play in this gorgeous and deeply Jewish space,” she said. “We could see the Statue of Liberty from so many of the rooms, and I actually found myself thinking about all of the Jews who have come through Ellis Island over the generations. I couldn’t help but imagine how scary and confusing it must have been to move to a new country. I …  imagined how learning and playing mah jongg must have been such a powerful way for those women to find friends and community, and how it has continued to connect Jewish women through the generations.”

The post The Faces and Stories of Kveller’s New York City Mah Jongg Festival appeared first on Kveller.

This piece originally ran on Jewish TV Club.

Have you ever visited a grocery store in Israel? It’s an incredible multi-sensory experience. At the bakery section, there are trays laden with burekas and rugelach, sometimes stale, sometimes wafting the most delicious aroma. Moms and grandmothers line up to get a prime cut of meat or cold cuts at the butcher section, sometimes arguing about their place in line and making the person behind the counter assure them that what they are getting is indeed the best and freshest cut. In the dairy section, you can get nostalgic plastic bags of milk or chocolate milk. The walkways are often laden with boxes that need to be unpacked. And at the checkout, you will find people having soulful conversations with their cashiers about recent life events, calling them by their first names.

So it shouldn’t be surprising that the top Israeli sitcom takes place in a grocery store.

Since “The Office,” the TV workplace mockumentary has become a beloved and oft-used trope, and it is the chosen format of “Checkout,” whose fourth season is streaming with English subtitles on ChaiFlicks (the fifth season of the show already aired in Israel between November 2024 and March 2025).

In “Checkout,” a documentary crew follows the Yavne branch of the Shefa Isaschar grocery store staff and clients as they go through their day. Shop manager Shira Steinbuch (Israeli sensation Noa Koler of “Rehearsals,” “Fire Dance” and “The Wedding Plan”), a high-achieving goodie-two-shoes, gets on everyone’s nerves with her stickler ways and her loud off-key singing. The women at the register are in fact the ones with all the power, especially bleached-blonde Kochava, played by Israeli comedian Keren Mor, known for many movie and TV roles including in the biting ‘90s satire show “Hahamishia Hakamerit,” who uses her pulpit at the cash register to make personal calls, share her love for Ladino music and wage wars with Amnon Tittinski, a particularly frugal university professor played by the dryly funny Dov Navon. Everyone, aside from a model employee or two, is trying to get away with doing the least, and the customers are doing the most to be unbearable. Basically, your average Israeli grocery store dynamics, heightened for maximum comedic effects. It’s kind of “The Office” meets the kvetchiness and anti-hero qualities of “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” a very fun combination of well-written and observed comedy about the minutiae of human interactions focused on something so haimish and familiar.

This isn’t a show where the characters reveal themselves as actually tender-hearted. Each character stays completely self-involved, in their own way, living in the separate lane of their own universe. But if you want to understand contemporary Israeli society, I would say that it’s a deeply illuminating show.

While the city of Yavne itself doesn’t boast a particularly diverse population, the inside of the supermarket (or “super” as Israelis call it) is a veritable microcosm of Israeli diversity. Ramzi Abed Ramzi (Amir Shurush) is a model senior employee whose Arab-Israeli parents both work in grocery stores. Nissim is one of the butchers in the shop, a ba’al teshuva, or secular-raised Jew who became more observant. His co-worker behind the butcher counter, Anatoly, or Sergein, is an oleh, a Jewish immigrant from Moldova with a heavy accent. Esty (Aviva Nagosa), a cashier, is an Ethiopian Jew, and Naomi (Mia Landsmann), a warehouse worker, is butch and queer.

While Israel is not known as a TV PC haven, at least not when it comes to comedy, the casting of this show is mostly what you would call authentic. Shurush, who plays Ramzi with a heavy Arab accent, grew up in a mixed home, with an Arab Christian father and a Jewish Yemenite mother. Daniel Styopin, who plays Anatoly, was born in Ukraine and only found out he was Jewish in first grade. Nagosa is the daughter of parents who came to Israel as part of Operation Brothers and even had a one-woman show called “Made in Israel” all about her identity as an Israeli-born Ethiopian Jew.

That doesn’t necessarily mean that “Checkout” has any incisive social commentary to impart. It’s humor shows a deep understanding of the dynamics of Israeli society: Many of its characters are quick to point out perceived and real discrimination against them, and the racist tensions that exist in Israeli societies make their ways into the show in the same way that they do into these types of spaces in real life. But it’s ultimately happy to remain on the surface, mostly a comfort show there to make us laugh, always pulling back when it’s too close to making an overly-inflammatory point about Israeli society.

That’s rarely more clear than it is in the third season episode “Ramzi Is Pure Forever.” A new employee joins the supermarket: Eliran, an ex-con and Beitar fan, the soccer team known for its racist chants against Arabs. Ramzi seems determined to win the new employee over, as he does every single person in the store. As Nissim tells Eliran, “He’s the biggest soul here.” But from the moment Eliran realizes Ramzi is an Arab, a “cousin” as Israelis say, he refuses to talk to him. Ramzi eventually does melt the wall between them by helping him hide contraband. Eliran, shocked by how much of a soft spot he has for Ramzi, says that he is not like any Arab he’s met before. The two are even seen singing an infamous inflammatory soccer team chant: “Listen you Arabs,” they chant together, wearing Beitar paraphernalia, as Eliran says, “Not you, Ramzi.” It ends with the chorus of “may your village burn down,” with Eliran again saying, “Not yours, Ramzi,” and Ramzi chanting along, “May your village burn down, not mine.”

The scene is meant to be funny, but it’s also jarring. And the show even seems to know this, juxtaposing this storyline with a particularly hilarious attempt by Kochava to manipulate the documentary crew into filming a wedding parody video for her son and his future husband. Eliran winds up getting arrested again for his contraband weapon business, and that storyline is sealed in one episode, but still, it leaves me with a strange feeling.

Turns out, that bit of the show is actually a mirror into Shurush’s experience growing up in Eilat, where he became friends with a lot of Beitar fans. His early childhood friends would hold “Death to Arabs” signs. It hurt Shurush, obviously, who would go back every day to his very loving and supportive mixed home. And in the end, he used humor to cope, becoming a class clown.

Ramzi is painted as the only truly lovable character of “Checkout,” the only one not led by his own selfish interests. He is so completely devoted to every detail of working at the grocery store, from the well-being of the carts to special sales, refusing to take any days off (he’s accrued literal hundreds). Anyone he ends up with romantically, he says, would come fourth in his life — after the store, the clients and the other location of the grocery chain where he sometimes takes on a shift. He’s absolutely a crowd favorite and has so many brilliantly funny lines, but his Arab identity isn’t really a big part of his character development, aside from that thick accent, which is sometimes itself the punchline. He is maybe the most popular Arab character to ever appear on Israeli TV, which has, to be fair, successful shows that center Arab characters, from the most recent and incredible “Night Therapy” starring Yousef Sweid and Shira Haas to “Arab Labor” created by author Sayed Kashua.

Part of what makes “Checkout” such a success is its appeal to all audiences. It’s the type of show you sit in your family living room to watch together, maybe even after a big family dinner — in that, it’s also so keyed into Israeli society, where watching TV is often a communal, familial experience. Kids dress up as its characters for Purim; the cast often is asked to send bat and bar mitzvah messages to kids. And for an all-ages audience, maybe it is just the right amount of satire.

“Checkout” and its cast see themselves as part of the community — in the days after October 7, the cast traveled around the country to comfort those who were injured and evacuated. The show was the only sitcom to shoot an actual episode to try to cheer up the nation, a war special that was meant to be a TV version of a hug. But if you watch carefully, you could find mirrors of the way, even beyond Israel, racism makes its way into our lives, particularly in a character like Steinbuch, who does her best to be PC but ends up at times being the most egregiously un-PC of them all.

It may be unfair of me to feel discomfort with the lack of incisiveness in “Checkout.” Israeli shows, like any shows, should be allowed to just be, and “Checkout” doesn’t ignore the flaws of Israeli society. Instead, through this set of characters searching mostly for their own personal happiness, it makes itself into a kind of comedy TV balm.

The post The Most Popular TV Sitcom in Israel Takes Place in a Grocery Store appeared first on Kveller.