I was wandering along through the Weihnachtsmarkt[i] in Hamburg, enjoying a Glühwein[ii] and a wurst[iii] when it occurred to me that tonight was the first night of Channukah. Seeing as the active Jewish community in Hamburg only warranted one synagogue, and I hadn’t seen a single menorah in any window, I felt a little daunted. How could I possibly compete? But when I got home, I felt a keen urge to celebrate Channukah. I thought about how I’d celebrated in the past—dancing in wild circles to live klezmer in college or stuffing my face full of sweet potato latkes at a family friend’s. Channukah would not be deterred; it had to be celebrated! Since, Jews were once all over Europe, including Germany, and managed to celebrate Channukah very well for thousands of years, I figured I might as well give it a shot. Food being a critical element to any Jewish holiday my first order of business was to create some latkes. Since potatoes are delicious, plentiful and—most importantly—dirt cheap in Germany, that wasn’t much of a problem. I hauled out a kilo, picked out some choice taters, and grated away. I begged an onion off of my neighbor, Monika, and grated that in. Salt, pepper. Looked good. Now what was that other key ingredient? Ah yes, oil. I had no veggie oil, alas, but I figured my ever-present supply of olive oil would do. Oil is oil, right? I filled my little blue IKEA pan with it and fried away. I madefour good-size latkes. It was the very first time I’d ever made them by myself, and I was quite proud. But you can’t just eat latkes plain! They cry out desperately for sour cream, or applesauce (preferably both), but I didn’t have either. I rifled through my extensive jam collection, but coating my fried piece of carbohydrates with strawberry or fig jam just didn’t seem right. Opening my fridge, I found the following items: outdated milk, peach juice, salami, and frischkäse.[iv] Now, for those of you who don’t know, frischkäse is kind of like a creamier, saltier version of cream cheese, and is often flavored with herbs. I tried it out and discovered that it is absolutely delicious with potatoes. Success! Plate in hand, I headed for my room. I sat down at mydesk and was about to eat when it hit me: I didn’t have a menorah. I hadn’t thought of schlepping one with me overseas, but it occurred to me that it might have been more convenient, despite the trouble it would’ve caused in customs. Buying one in Hamburg was pretty much out of the question. I don’t mean to shock you, but there aren’t really any menorahs in Germany. Although at any supermarket you can get wreaths, blow up santas, lights, advent calendars, etc, menorahs just don’t make it onto the shelves.

I was concerned that Channukah was going to be thwarted. But did that kind of attitude stop the Maccabees? Thinking it over, I realized I had a bag of tea lights. With a little creativity, I formed a nice little v-shaped contraption of candles, complete with the shamas a little set back from the others. Voila! A menorah. With the candles flickering and the latkes on the table, I stood by the window to sing the prayers. As I listened to my voice resound off of the glass window in front of me, I stared out into the black night and at the many lights of Christmas twinkling back at me. Fröhliches [v] Channukah, Germany. See you tomorrow night.