We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
One of my kids went to the B&H last night. Unlike many sort-of Jewish delis in NYC (which are termed "Kosher style", serving dairy and meat - especially pastrami)), B and H is a kosher dairy joint. A famous East Village hole-in-the-wall place.
Decades ago, when I was dating the future Mrs. BD, we frequented that place. We aren't Jewish. The food was cheap and good. The challah is tasty.
Digging back in my memory, I suggested that my kid try the Matzoh Ball Soup. She liked it.
Early in my career I lived in Squirrel Hill section of Pittsburgh, where even the Chinese restaurants had Hebrew lettering on the windows. Izzy Cohen's Delicatessen was great, especially the turkey and pastrami on rye with cole slaw and huge pickles. Sandwiches were not crazy oversized like so many today, just the best ingredients. I still have dreams of the food there, they sadly are long gone, and Squirrel Hill now includes several other ethnicities.
Growing up in the US, our local kosher pizza place had falafel and hummus - but only after I moved to Israel did I really understand that there were entirely different kinds of "Jewish food" based on other cuisines.
The few constants - challah, matza, some sort of Sabbath stew - were linked to religious observance.
I am now preparing jam-filled Hamentaschen ("Haman's pockets") cookies for Purim. My Sephardic neighbors will make fried dough strips called Orejas de Haman ("Haman's Ears"). The Israelis largely eat the jam cookies - but call them ears (" Oznei Haman")... Go figure.