Pass the Mutz!

a first time OJM contributor has a rare cash offer for all the Jewish-Italian trivia experts out there

This article is the first contribution from Eli Zimmerman, an 80-something Old Jewish Man writing from across the bridge in New Jersey. When Eli isn’t writing for OJM he can be found bragging to friends about his house plants, polishing his battery collection or trimming his knuckle hair.

There’s a place 10 minutes from the George Washington Bridge. Northern NJ. A well-known, sought after family owned food market. The name will not be revealed to you unless you win the game. I don’t want the entire world there. More on that later. Italian but not really. At some point, I’m not sure when, the clear ethnic boundary between Italians shopping there and Jews shopping there blended as if someone took a spoon to a bowl of Borsht and sour cream and created that beautiful, sublime pink color that always ensues. Nowadays it’s hard to tell the players without a scorecard. Unless you look at their neck: cross or star, chai or horn? Otherwise, the pinky rings, the gold bracelets, the diamonds and the watches are the same. My wife and I make the 20 minute pilgrimage almost every Sunday from our North Jersey home to this mecca of local color. For the food, the ride and the experience. The terroir is overwhelming. The patrons are as my older son is wont to say, “straight out of central casting”. Woody and Marty need look no further.

It wasn’t always this way my wife tells me. She grew up in a very Italian family in a very Italian town very close to our beloved market. Her maternal grandfather, Vitantonio DiGirolamo (of course that was his name. Not Izzy, Saul or Louie) made the fresh mozzarella for the market. He lived a few blocks away. The “mutz” is still there every day. It is great. Better than the Breakstone cottage cheese that was always in your refrigerator. If only your mother knew. The OJMs and OIMs are also there. Buying all the premium veggies, meats and prepared foods. They are schmoozing as only those of a certain age can. Unabashedly themselves with the “I don’t care what you think of me” attitude. So refreshing. I am sure you know what I mean or you wouldn’t be reading OJM.

Every Sunday my wife and I play the game we call, “Jew or not a Jew?” Well, actually it should be called, “Jew or Italian?” but “Jew or not a Jew” sounds better. For every ambivalent character we encounter, we ask this question. Not for the obvious ones. We ask you, our readers, to join the game and play along. Here’s the deal. We give you a quote overheard by us at the market. You give the answer: Jew or not a Jew (Italian). It’s a game. Whoever gets the most correct will win a prize (in the event of a tie, we will randomly choose a winner). The prize? A Sunday with the wife and me at the famous unnamed market. We pay for your purchase. The limit 36 bucks. I’m Jewish. The wife would go for more but I’m writing this. Answers are: Jew, Italian, Both. Here we go:

1. Where’s the Kosher food aisle?

2. Is the “mutz” fresh?

3. No baccala?

4. The short ribs, are they fatty? You’re not charging me for the bone?

5. Any pigs in a blanket?

6. I’ll take a bologna sandwich on white with mayo.

7. The holidays are early this year.

8. Do you think that’s a nose job?

9. That’s a knock-off. I’m sure.

10. You call the meatballs “Grandma’s Sunday meatballs”. Doesn’t look like Nanni’s.

11. Why do you close at 3 on Sundays? Friday would be better.

As we pack our bags a certain calm develops despite the two of us reliving our respective childhood shopping nightmares. The wife lamenting the days when there were only Italians in the market and her biggest worry was that her father wouldn’t think the broccoli rabe was fresh. Me, the nightmare of lox sliced too thick and pastrami not fatty enough. But now the market is a melting pot. Take comfort knowing we are all there every day. The Jews, the Italians and others providing that familiar and sort after feeling of “these are my people”. Whoever they may be. Play the “Jew or not a Jew’ game to win. After the number of each question give the answer: Jew, Italian, Both. You will enjoy the reward of my wife and I shopping with you. Whether you’re a Jew or not a Jew. What’s the difference? 36 dollar limit. But if I know my wife, it will be higher.