I've had my eye on 121 Ludlow Street for a while now. A giant "For Rent" sign hovered in its window for at least a couple of years, tempting me as I walked by. How cool would it be to live in an old Lower East Side synagogue?
I even called the landlord once. Only commercial tenants, he barked. Click.
But I'm perfect for you – a nice Jewish maydele, I wanted to tell him. I'm writing a freakin' dissertation on the Jews of the Lower East Side. What more could you want?
Now it seems the landlord has finally found his tenant. Chickie's Pigs. I kid you not. It's a new pizzeria, and their signature pie is topped with three versions of pork: prosciutto, ham and sausage.
Gawker posted this picture yesterday (though they reported that the former building was a burial society — based on the "Chevra Kadisha" in its name — it was probably also a synagogue):
Pig pies in a former house of Jewish worship? Sure, I devoured a souvlaki (guess which white meat) with tzatziki at a lovely Greek restaurant last night, without a care. Yet I've also been known to weep and nearly vomit in a gourmet restaurant in the French countryside when my chicken was served to me literally in a pot of warm milk.
People are contradictory, as my first professor of Jewish history would say, with a shrug. And many of those inner-conflicts are played out over the dinner table. So I'm not sure how I feel about this seeming transgression.
I'd do just about anything to save the remaining tenement synagogues dotted across the Lower East Side. But is this taking things to far?
good post. Ne’er knew this, thankyou for letting me know.