Benihana is Kosher for Pesach Right?
At 7pm we realize that we are hungry and there’s no way in the world I’m cooking dinner. In other households this might not be a 7pm revelation but in ours we are constantly surprised by our hunger at the dinner hour.
Noting that it’s both Good Friday and the first night of Passover we think Benihana! because it’s impossible to go there last minute on any other night and planning for Benihana would be downright depressing. If I’m going to plan a steak and lobster dinner it’s going to be BOA not a cheezy but oddly delicious chain.
It takes me until almost 7.20 to get my act together and logon to their website but we have success and score an 8pm table for four. Alexander’s little buddy is spending the night and we walk into the most goyisha night ever.
The boys are chatting and Mr. G and I have a few minutes for adult conversation. It’s interesting because even in a noisy place we’re able to tune the rest of the world out and just be us. Half a lifetime later and I still can’t get enough of him.
We’ve got some big decisions to make as a couple and Mr. G is asking my advice and I realize that I don’t really have any to give. I’m in this bizarre situation of being married and being half of a household with no actual ability to keep said household afloat with anything but family dinners and purchasing decisions. I mean technically I have a career but it’s just not the one that could support the life we are living.
So I sip a second or perhaps a third glass of wine and tell him that I’m not sure that what I’ve done is smart. I say, “We’ve spent a small fortune on private schools for Jane and it’s only going to get more expensive and what if she goes to college and then to grad school and then she decides that she’s just going to stay home and support her husband’s career and be totally out of control of what comes in?”
And Mr. G looks at me and says, “What if Alexander finds some rich girl and decides not to work.”
“That’s not what men do.” I say while emptying that uncounted glass of wine.
“You’re a chauvinist.” He smirks.
And I am. And I realize that I’ve beaten the odds with almost 15 years of marriage in a very unequal household. It’s dumb, on paper I’d never recommend that either of my children commit their lives to this. I’d be horrified if my son decided against a career but only worried if my daughter did. In reality I can’t imagine my life any other way.
Seder tomorrow. Benihana tonight.