pig roasting over a fire Photo by iStock
By Beth Harpaz
July 8, 2025
Dear Bintel,
A few weeks ago I got an invitation from some new friends in town for a summer barbecue that includes a pig roast.
When I spoke to one of the hosts, I eventually had to give our concern (which she probably already knew): “You know, we’re Jewish.”
She said, “Well … so are we! We joke that it’s the most kosher pig in town.”
I realize we are over a century from the notorious “treyfa banquet” in Cincinnati honoring the first class of graduates from Hebrew Union College, and the taboo was stricken long ago.
I understand the exciting pyro-culinary challenges of roasting a whole animal, which of course fascinated the Levites in the days of the Temple. And I’m aware of the assimilationist postwar years when suburban Jews wanted to be accepted by their gentile neighbors.
But in this time of challenged Jewish identity, when critics of contemporary Jews assail us for not living up to our own standards, I ask: Why? WHY?
We try to instruct our kids to follow “no cheese on the meatballs,” but when they see their peers and extended family being so ignorant of the rules, they certainly wonder what the point of tradition is if it’s so widely abused.
Jews are being challenged and threatened the world over so that comfortable suburban American Jews can enjoy a pig roast.
Practically, they are nice folks, and I’d like to keep up the connection and bring my family to accept their invitation. But the idea of a pig roast nauseates me.
Signed,
No Pork On Fork
Dear No Pork:
I don’t blame you for wanting to stay home. Personally, I wouldn’t be able to make eye contact with that poor critter’s crispy face either. Not because I’m kosher, or because I think we have a moral obligation to sync our diets with our politics or identities. But just because it grosses me out. I’m not vegan, but like a lot of (hypocritical?) omnivores, I prefer not to be reminded that meat comes from murdered animals.
But if I’m interpreting your letter correctly, your objection to the pig is quite specific. You think Jews should observe kashrut as a moral statement in the face of rising antisemitism.
Now, I get that your concern is different from someone who’s simply anti-meat, or who, for health reasons, is dairy- or gluten-free. Like the old Hebrew National ads, you claim to answer to a higher authority!
To that, I’d say Judaism is a big tent, religiously and politically. So by all means, avoid pork and keep your meatballs free of grated cheese as a way of expressing your personal mix of politics and religion. But you don’t have the right to insist that other Jews do the same — with the exception of your children, of course.
I’m curious if you’d be similarly upset if you used a Jewish friend’s bathroom on Shabbat and they hadn’t torn their toilet paper into individual squares, as Orthodoxy requires. Is that OK because it’s not in their backyard for the world to see? And if that’s OK because it’s not public, are you simply looking for performative behavior rather than wholehearted commitments?
Which brings me to my larger point. There are many ways in which others’ food choices can seem ridiculous or offensive. I’m frequently appalled just looking at the groceries in the cart ahead of me at the supermarket! (Hot Pockets? Fruity Pebbles? Oy!) And yet, I hold my tongue, because neither you nor I gets to decide what other people eat.
Look at it this way. My vegan friends oppose animal exploitation; they won’t even eat an egg that comes from a pampered pet chicken. But if they choose to come to my parties, I expect them to refrain from judging me for serving chicken wings. I also don’t want the Jewish food police investigating what I order in Chinese restaurants on Christmas.
Bottom line: If I were you, I’d remain true to my principles and stay home — but without lecturing. A polite “Sorry, can’t make it, but thanks for the invite,” is all you need to say.
And if you still want to socialize with the hosts some other time, that’s easy enough. Assuming you’re not secretly looking for an excuse to wag a finger at them, just invite them over for bagels and lox.
Oh, and consider serving tofu cream cheese alongside dairy options — just in case someone’s lactose-intolerant.
Signed,
Bintel
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