Even after twelve years, I am pleasantly surprised by how Jewish my adopted home is: The grocery store across the street had free shank bones in the butcher section. Everyone in the wine store was buying kosher wine, and the Latino cashier wished us a happy holiday. The local diner where I had brunch had its boxes of matzah prominently displayed. And I live on the East Side. On the downside, both local grocery stores were sold out of fresh horseradish.
Chag Sameach.
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