San Jose, Calif. – Closed stores. A day off work. The world seemingly swimming in stockings and carols and depictions of the baby Jesus.
What’s a Jew to do? For years, the default answer was catch a movie
(since theaters, at least, were open) and chow down on chow fun (since
Chinese restaurants were also reliably open).
Somewhere along the way, comedians entered the mix and now jokes
and Chinese grub have fused into a regional tradition borne of being
left out of, well, the December Christmas tradition.
Kung Pao Kosher Comedy started it all in San Francisco, mixing
comics and Chinese food for an annual December event that has grown
from one stand-up comedy showcase to eight. Then Chopshticks followed
suit in Palo Alto. Now Meshunegah Christmas is debuting in the East
Bay.
“One can feel left out during the Christmas holidays,” said Lisa
Geduldig, who created Kung Pao in 1993, and plans to start a New York
version next year. “Everyone is asking: Have you done your shopping?
I’m like, ‘Oh, thanks. I need to buy yogurt.’ ”
What? You think this is funny?
Part of this comic holiday movement is, drawing on Jews’ fondness
for humor. And, organizers, say, a deep yet somewhat inexplicable love
of Chinese food.
“When Jews are three years old – from the time they’re ready to
eat real food – they go to Chinese restaurants,” declared Alan
Sataloff, CEO of the Albert L. Schultz Jewish Community Center in Palo
Alto. “It’s either matzo ball soup or wonton soup.”
Toss in a defensive armor thickened by the annual barrage of
yuletide cheer – Geduldig recently hung up rather than endure a
store’s on-hold Christmas music – and you have a popular formula.
The holidays can be “a little alienating,” said Carolyn Kommel
Spiegel, 64 of Los Altos. “Everybody says ‘Merry Christmas’ to you
and you don’t celebrate Christmas.”
The French teacher, who used to see a movie every Christmas Eve,
now faithfully attends Chopshticks, usually filling a banquet table
with her husband and eight friends. She had attended her first show
because “we didn’t have anything else to do, and it would be fun to
be with other Jews who had nothing to do.”
Mindful of their audience, some organizers “un-Christmas-fy” the
restaurants before show-time. Take down the lights and tree, stash any
red-and-green decor.
One year, a well-meaning restaurant owner’s wife bought poinsettia
centerpieces for each table.
It didn’t go over well, said Geduldig, who ditched the plants. This
year, she lit a menorah during Friday’s show, which coincided with the
last night of Hanukkah.
Some people have been coming to the show for a decade, she said.
“I walk around during the dinner shows,” she said, “hugging and
kissing everyone like a big bar mitzvah, but it’s not my family.”
Though the events share a similar concept, the details differ.
Meshunegah Christmas will be held at an Alameda synagogue – not a
restaurant – but Chinese food will still be served. Chopshticks opted
for a “not offensive” vegetarian Chinese meal, though Kung Pao is
serving meat, including “kosher shrimp.” (There’s no such thing,
although Geduldig, herself a shrimp fan, noted that while some Jews
steadfastly avoid pork, they’ll cheat on the shellfish ban, especially
if it’s wrapped in a won-ton.)
Then there are the conflicting opinions about Jewish humor. That
is, the need for it. Over the years, the comedy has ranged from
one-liners – the late Henny Youngman did his last show at Kung Pao in
1997 – to observational humor this year about everything from ex-wifes
to growing up Jewish-Iranian.
Norm Goldblatt, who started Chopshticks with his wife, Gloria,
thinks comics shouldn’t focus on Jewish humor.
“That often falls flat,” the part-time comedian said. “Jewish
people have already thought of all the jokes.”
However, Geduldig won’t book anyone who happens to be Jewish but
doesn’t tell Jewish jokes. “Every so often,” she said, “someone in
the audience complains to me: ‘Why is there so much about Jewish
mothers?’ I’m like: ‘Look in the mirror.”‘
The audience is primarily Jewish – non-Jews, after all, usually
have plans – though the shows are open to everyone.
“Once we had a Chinese family named Ju,” Gloria Goldblatt
recalled. “I thought that was hilarious.”
(The San Jose Mercury News is a member of the ap News
Service.)
