The Stars and the Cookie Jar

Last night I taught darthrami how to make challah; we tried to manage the Litvakian six-strand braid, even. (It looks... interpretive yet charming.) But I couldn't take challah in the traditional manner -- we live in an apartment with an extremely persnickety smoke-detector, which don't get me wrong is good for its purposes -- and I couldn't do it the way fleurdelis28 used to and pitch it out the window, because our screens are locked in. So I decided I'd sleep on it, since the challah isn't getting baked till this afternoon anyway.

Lo, I have come up with an answer:

Our building has an incinerator.

So I'm saving the little ball of dough and when she gets home, we'll go down the hall and give it a send-off, thus taking challah for the first time in our new home together. Yes, yes, wince all you like, but at least we're managing it.

Welcome to metropolitan Judaism.

Dinner looks to be around 7:00, for those who'll be attending. You'd probably need to commentspam darthrami for directions, since I can't give them very well if you are arriving by "car". I'm not familiar with "car".

Drinks we have in the fridge include peach iced tea, root beer, percent milk, tangerine-orange juice and some iffy V-8 from two weeks ago. Well, and wine for kiddush, courtesy of mearth. Many, many other beverages, some labelled entirely in Spanish, can be had downstairs at the convenience store.

See you there! I mean, here. Whichever. You know what I mean.