I suspect my husband, Eric, was switched at birth. He looks like neither of his parents, and avoids most Ashkenazi food like the plague. He would gladly trade in a bowl of cholent for a serving of savory curry, and stands firmly behind the position that kebobs top brisket any day of the week. The very mention of gefelte fish sends him running in the other direction, usually toward a steaming bowl of spicy tofu. I often wonder how this happened, given his very traditional Ashkenazi upbringing, and the fact that his father can berely tolerate ground peppercorns. Eric says he feels fortunate to have married an Asian Sephardic girl. Of course, I agree. That doesn’t stop me from constructing his origin story, though. I’m sticking with “switched at birth.” Continue reading →

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