By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

I was going to call this column “Weird foods,” but that title didn’t completely fit. I also thought about using “Bizarre foods,” but that’s already been taken and also didn’t seem accurate. What provoked this column was seeing two articles on a Jewish food website that featured unusual food combinations. I use the word provoked deliberately since the word means something that causes a strong reaction. I consider my initial reaction of “oh, yuck!” to fit that definition. (I would have used more exclamation points, but the person who edits my columns generally limits me to one.)
Many people will probably agree with my reaction to reading about a “Gefilte Fish Club Sandwich.” (You can find the recipe at www.myjewishlearning.com/the-nosher/gefilte-fish-club-sandwich-recipe.) While I do like gefilte fish, I am very picky about what brands I will buy. (And before you ask, no, I am not making my own.) I remember a few years back getting a jar that was on sale and having difficulty choking down its almost uneatable contents. (It reminded me of the time someone compared gefilte fish to road kill, not that I actually know what road kill tastes like.) Something must be making me pickier as I get older: I loved my Aunt Naomi’s homemade gefilte fish, which I have not had since she died in 1977, but I never complained about the jarred ones I ate until recently. 
Anyway, back to the gefilte fish sandwich: It’s a cold sandwich, which sounds far better than a warm version would. It features horseradish mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato and pickled red onions. The recipe calls for challah as the bread, but I suppose you could use a roll or other bread. If that makes it sound like I’m warming to idea, you are correct. Although my first reaction was definitely “oh, yuck,” after reading the recipe, I began to think, “That doesn’t sound that bad.” I’m not sure I’d make that for myself, but I would be willing try it if someone served it to me.
My reaction to the other recipe I read about is simple to explain: I adore watermelon. It’s one of my favorite foods, with cherries running a close second. My mother and I were both watermelon fanatics. In fact, my mom would claim that there was no mother-daughter relationship when it came to watermelon, meaning she wouldn’t save any for me if I didn’t get to it quickly enough. We would debate whether to let my father know there was watermelon in the refrigerator or hope he wouldn’t notice, which would leave more for us.
I’ve had a friend who sings the praises of a watermelon and feta cheese salad. While I like both foods on their own, the thought of them together turns my stomach. That explains why I was not impressed to read about “Russian-Style Pickled Watermelon.” (The recipe can be found here.) Now, I love pickles in almost every form and format. (That includes pickled tomatoes and pickled beets.) But pickled fruit? The idea makes me shudder because the spices used – garlic, bay and dill – just don’t go well with fruit. (Then again, I also don’t like chocolate-covered fruit. If you give them to me individually, then I’m happy to eat both, just not together.)
The article did mention that the watermelon pickles were among the foods best eaten with shots of vodka or other alcohol, which led me to wonder if you have to be so drunk you can’t really taste the food in order to enjoy them. OK, that’s probably not fair since every nation has dishes that others consider strange. In fact, I know what it’s like to have people’s faces wrinkle with distaste at food combinations I’ve made. (Just ask me about one I created when I was college. I thought it tasted great, even though it looked like brown mush.) That said, I’m still not eager to eat watermelon any other way than straight from the rind – no salt, sugar, spices or anything else needed!