Chapter 43, Cracked Head

Dad bought new bicycles, the bike with the racing handle. I loved riding them. I would wait every day for Dad to get back from work so I can ride them around the block. Bike riding didn’t come easy for me. Dad bought me cool bikes a few years before, but they were defective. Dad found them at the bike store. Used folding bike from Japan. The problem was the size of the wheels. They were very small. You couldn’t find replacement for the tubes. So, by the time I learned how to ride them the inner tubes were full of holes and even the outer tire was damaged. Dad had an old bike which he finally replaced with a newer one (not brand new) and he rode them to work every day. He had a laundry clip in his pocket all the time. He would clip his right pant whenever he rode, to avoid getting stuck in the chain.

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 The new bike was tall for me, but I handled it pretty well feeling safe and proud of myself for being so tall. I had only one problem, Stop signs. Dad had explained to me that a stop sign is very important. In Israel they have the same shape as the rest of the world, but they don’t say stop. They have a symbol of an opened palm of a hand facing you. My problem was, again, I was too short. I had to tilt the bike to the side whenever I needed to get off and run with it a few steps to get started again. It didn’t stop me from having fun. Dad promised me that for my bar-mitzvah he will get me a brand-new bike. My most favorite part was the ride up the tall hill, pushing hard with all my weight and then riding back down at full speed.

We recently finished a special course at school. We learned “Road Safety”. We learned to look side to side before we cross the street. We learn how to signal before we turn when we ride our bikes. But the most important part of that course was to help the little kids cross the street. Every day before school started and after it was over, we would stand in crossroads dressed in special vests and holding a pole with a stop sign. Whenever we saw the little kids come closer to the road, we would swing the pole and stop the traffic, let the kids walk across the street and then Swing back the pole to let the traffic go and stop the kids from crossing. We were doing something important. We were responsible kids.

“Dad, can I take the bike for a ride?”

“Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes, I did, I even finished reading the book from the library.”

“All right then.”

I took the bicycles out of our building entrance - that is where we kept bikes, right under the stairs - and ran to the road. Not too far from our house was the first stop sign. I stopped stood next to the bike and looked side to side, making sure no one is coming, ran with the bike and continued riding. I Signaled with my left hand pointing up (that is how you signal to turn right) and took the turn. Drove to the end of the street, signaled again and turned right again now I was back on our street again. I turned right and continued riding. From behind me I heard a scooter, I decided I will turn left and get out of his way, I extended my left arm pointing to the direction I was about to go and took the turn. At that moment I Heard a screech, and I was knocked off the bike. I struggled up and saw that next to me laid a guy I knew from Neve Shalom, our old neighborhood. A relative of the Okevs. He brushed himself as he was getting up. I immediately was checking his Vespa I would hate to be responsible for the damages to his scooter. Knowing perfectly well that I was not the one causing the accident. But, you know, the adults are always right…

From behind me I saw my dad walking toward us and he stopped at once to look again at us. He almost fell down but then he controlled himself and kept walking. Behind the scooter on the road laid a big, cracked watermelon. Dad thought it was someone’s head. He was relieved when he saw me standing up talking to the guy who was checking me up. The guy insisted that it was not his fault, and he made my dad sign a paper releasing him from any damages and that he releases us from any damage to his scooter and left.

Pondering about it for many years, I still know I was doing the exact thing I was taught at school. He was driving too fast in a neighborhood full of kids.

 

 

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Crockets / Fritters 

Crispy on the outside and soft inside with a surprise in the middle. It takes a little time to prepare but no time to eat it. I love making it for Passover, but it could be done with breadcrumbs instead of matzah meal.

Ingredients:

 

2 Big Potato

½ lb. Ground Meat

½ Onion 

1 Garlic Cloves

Matzah Meal

2 Eggs

1 tsp Salt

½ tsp Paprika

 

            Vegetarian Option: Instead of Meat 

½ Cup Lentils

½ lb. Mushroom

 

Preparation:

 

 Cook the potatoes with the skin on until they soften, put them aside to cool.  Sauté the onion and garlic until they turn light brown, add ground meat, and cook to medium. Mix in the paprika and ½ tsp salt and put aside.

Mash the potatoes with ½ tsp salt and make a dough. Create small balls of the potato dough and make an indent in the middle. Insert a tsp of the meat mixture, cover and shape to egg shape balls. Beat the eggs and dip balls in the eggs. Dip the balls in the matzah meal and deep fry.