Last Sunday, I had the absolute pleasure of catering Rachel Bates’ Bat Mitzvah at Congregation Beth Jehudah — an event that carried layers of meaning for me well beyond the food and logistics.
That building itself holds deep significance in my life. Before it was Beth Jehudah, it was home to Congregation Anshai Lebowitz, where I spent my one year of Sunday school. Once I started at Milwaukee Jewish Day School, Sunday school fell away — but the building stayed present in my life. My brother’s Bar Mitzvah was there. I ran through its halls as a BBYO kid. I walked over as a young MJDS student with friends. And later, all three of my own children attended preschool in that same building.
There are places that quietly witness our lives unfolding across generations, and this is one of them.
What made this event even more meaningful was who it was for. Mordechai and I go back many years — long before Mosaic, long before we ever imagined being business partners. We first worked together when I was consulting as a chef at Ovation/Sarah Chudnow and he was a new mashgiach finding his footing. Later, when he started QuickKosher, he became one of my vendors, and over time, we became friends who supported one another in business.
Our paths are a reflection of what makes this community special. We come from different backgrounds, different levels of religious observance, and different Jewish educational experiences — yet we shared a belief that kosher food and Jewish food matter deeply to the fabric of the Milwaukee Jewish community. Supporting one another wasn’t just about business; it was about making sure our community had access, continuity, and care.
About a year ago, that support evolved into something new. As a single mom who had spent a decade building a business on my own, I had reached a point where doing everything — parenting, home life, and business — felt like running uphill on a treadmill that never stopped. In a moment of honesty, I reached out to Mordechai for advice and support. Instead, he suggested something unexpected: that we consider partnering.
Over the next seven to eight months, we talked, questioned, planned, and worked through what that could mean. In August, it became official. What started as professional respect and mutual support became a shared commitment to building something sustainable — together.
That’s why catering his oldest daughter’s Bat Mitzvah felt so deeply full circle. Being part of that milestone for his family was a joy. I love events because they place me right in the middle of people’s lives at moments that matter. Getting to do that for his daughter, his extended family, and their community was truly special.
Watching Rachel’s vision come to life — the details she had imagined, the excitement she carried — was beautiful. And seeing her friends genuinely enthusiastic about the food? That’s no small feat. Twelve-year-old girls are discerning critics.
What I’ve learned over the years is that people may not always know exactly what details they care about until someone asks the right questions. Those questions matter. The little touches matter. The care woven into the planning matters. By the end of many events, I feel genuinely connected to the people I’ve worked with — because hospitality, at its best, is relational.
Standing in that building again, I felt the layers of time collapse in the best way. Childhood, adulthood, parenthood, partnership — all intersecting in one space. This is what makes our community so special: the continuity, the overlapping generations, the shared spaces, and the deep relationships.
And yet, we are not all the same. We come from many traditions, many approaches to Judaism, many lived experiences. Together, those differences don’t divide us — they create the true mosaic of the Milwaukee Jewish community.
Being able to feed that community, support it, and grow within it is a privilege I don’t take lightly. Moments like this remind me why I do this work — and why I’m grateful not to be doing it alone anymore.
