Features
Astonishingly good debut novel by former Winnipegger Sandy Shefrin Rabin
By BERNIE BELLAN
One of the great joys of being in the position of editor of a Jewish newspaper is being on the receiving end of what seem to be a never-ending series of well-written books, either by current Winnipeggers or former Winnipeggers.
In the past three months I’ve had the pleasure of reading books by Allan Levine, Jack London, and Mira Sucharov. I would recommend any of them to readers of this paper – as I have in previous issues.
But, when I was contacted by another former Winnipegger by the name of Sandy Shefrin (whose married name is Rabin) some time back, when Sandy told me that she had written a book and was looking for a good publisher, I must admit that while I remembered Sandy’s name as someone who had grown up in Winnipeg around the same time as me, unlike the three aforementioned writers, I had no idea whether Sandy was a good writer or not.
If truth be told, when Sandy had also written in her email to me that what she wanted to publish was her first novel, as someone who has also received many first-time novels, my expectations were not all that great.
And so, when Sandy contacted me again recently to say that she had published her novel – and had followed up my advice to contact Friesen’s Publishers – a company which I knew had a reputation of being a quality publisher, I replied to her that I would get to her book once I finished reading some other books whose authors I had promised I would review.
I shouldn’t have waited.
From the moment I began reading the first chapter of “Prairie Sonata” I realized that Sandy was a writer of immense talent. Her descriptive language was breathtakingly beautiful – not overly laden with the kind of flowery prose that one might have anticipated reading when a first-time writer wants to show off how expansive his or her vocabulary is, but so evocative that I could picture her scenes as vividly as if I were right there with her characters.
And, what should “Prairie Sonata” turn out be about, but a story set in a fictitious Manitoba town called “Ambrosia”, beginning in 1948. Ambrosia actually is a thinly-veiled version of Winnipeg in so many respects (and if you read the following article, in which I ask Sandy why she didn’t just use the real Winnipeg as the location for her novel, you’ll read the answer to that question).
The book opens with the narrator, an 11-year-old girl by the name of Mira, wistfully recalling her childhood:
“And I would go back there if I could. Despite the freezing winters and piercing winds. If I could be in the same house and look out of the same windows at the long, arching tree branches laden with snow and watch the feathery snowflakes waft down from the sky like fairy dust. And if I could hear my mother in the kitchen, the rhythmic tapping of her wooden spoon against the sides of the bowl as she turned flour and shortening into a delicious cherry pie, so delicious it was almost like a miracle.”
As the story develops we learn that Mira has what we might consider an idyllic childhood, surrounded by loving parents – her father the town surgeon, her mother a thoroughly competent homemaker who always seems to find the right thing to say to Mira, and her little adoring brother Sammy, who is three years younger than Mira.
Into this tableaux of happy characters enters “Chaver B”, as he is known – a new teacher in the Peretz School (a name familiar to anyone who grew up in Winnipeg’s Jewish community). Chaver B, or Ari Bergman, which is his full name, is a survivor of the Holocaust and, as one might anticipate, he carries an extremely heavy burden within him.
As it also turns out, Chaver B is an accomplished violinist, but for some reason he does not play the violin himself any more. He is invited to the Adler home for Sabbath dinner and, while there, he discovers that Mira is also studying violin.
He offers to give Mira violin lessons when he is told that her former violin teacher has left Ambrosia. What develops though is not just a warm relationship between student and teacher, it is an opportunity for Mira to learn about life and for Chaver B to have someone to whom he can open up about what has happened to him.
There are many insertions of Yiddish phrases, often whole sentences throughout the book, and while the author does provide translations for many of them, some are undoubtedly included just to add a flavour to the time and place in which the story is set. While it would undoubtedly help to be able to understand Yiddish in order to appreciate the precise aptness of a certain expression, as someone whose knowledge of Yiddish is rather limited myself, by sounding out the words in my mind I was taken back to a time when my own grandparents spoke Yiddish between themselves. I would think that even someone who knows no Yiddish at all can get a sense of the cadence of that wonderful language in reading the Yiddish in this book.
While there have been more books written about the Holocaust than any other subject in history, “Prairie Sonata” is not really another Holocaust book. It forms a major component of the story but, as Mira grows from a bright and cheery 11-year-old to a mature 15-year-old, we get a full sense of what life was like in a bygone era, not too long after the end of the Second World War (which, by the way, precedes Sandy Shefrin’s own childhood by several years; this is not an autobiography, as Sandy explained to me.)
Each chapter of the book begins with a quote from something written by a host of well-known writers – and although they reveal the extraordinarily eclectic breadth of the author’s acquaintance with a vast number of literary works, trying to understand the significance of each quote is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll leave it to others who have far more refined literary tastes than my own to figure that out – and perhaps get back to me with an explanation.
One other wonderful element to the story is the explanation of musical terms that may be familiar enough, but whose actual origin is likely known only by music students themselves. In one vividly drawn chapter, Chaver B explains to Mira how a sonata is actually structured. In doing so, the author is also explaining to the reader why her book is structured the way that it is.
Music plays such a central role in “Prairie Sonata” that I often had to stop reading to go and listen to an actual piece of music that is referenced so that I might understand why that particular piece would elicit the type of reaction that it does from Mira when she first hears it played.
To reveal too much of the plot would be a disservice to readers. Suffice to say that, as Mira learns more from Chaver B about what happened to him during the war, she begins to understand the meaning of anti-Semitism. Having grown up in a rather sheltered environment in Ambrosia she is really quite innocent, even though she would have been a young girl during World War II. Discovering the unparalleled cruelties of what happened to Europe’s Jews through Chaver B’s story is something that will resonate with anyone of any age – not just someone close to Mira’s age.
While “Prairie Sonata” might be considered a work of juvenile fiction, and it is definitely recommended for young readers – perhaps even pre-teens if they would be interested in a coming of age story, I would say that this book – if word of its brilliance spreads, will find an audience especially among Winnipeggers and former Winnipeggers who remember a time when life was somewhat simpler – without all the technological distractions that nowadays seem to combine to rob young people of the pleasures that come with encountering the world without having to experience it through social media.
Our community has produced a number of talented female writers whose books are intended for a young audience, including Carol Matas, Eva Wiseman, and Harriet Zaidman. While we can now add Sandy Shefrin’s name to that list, I would suggest that “Prairie Sonata” can fit into so many different categories of fiction that it will appeal to readers of all ages. And, at a time when so many of us are looking for something that will help take us through what, for most of us, is the most difficult period in history, I could recommend nothing more absorbing than taking your mind off what we are going through than this book.
Prairie Sonata
By Sandy Shefrin Rubin
Friesen Press, published 2020
267 pages
Currently available on Amazon in either print or Kindle format
Sandy Shefrin on growing up in Winnipeg and how she came to write “Prairie Sonata”
By BERNIE BELLAN
When I was first contacted by Sandy Shefrin Rabin quite some time ago, I told her that I remembered the name Sandy Shefrin from long ago – when we both were teenagers. When she went on to tell me that she was a first-time novelist, well – I’ve heard from a fair number of writers over the years asking me whether I’d like to read their books, so I can’t say that I was in any rush to read her book.
At the time that she contacted me I didn’t ask Sandy for any information about her background. It was only after I heard from her again not too long ago to tell me that her book was actually published – and she wondered whether I would like to read it, that I became interested in finding out more about her. I asked her to send me some biographical information.
So, in addition to her book, which she sent me as a pdf, she also sent me a picture of the book jacket. The back of the book jacket contains the following biographical information:
“Sandy Shefrin Rabin grew up in Winnipeg, Manitoba, in a community much like Mira’s. She holds both a B.A. in English and an M.D. degree from the University of Manitoba. She completed an Internal Medicine residency at McGill University and her Neurology residency at the New York Hospital Cornell Medical Center in Manhattan. She currently practices Neurology in Marin County, near San Francisco.
“Sandy has written for the Marin Independent Journal and has been published in several medical journals. She lives in Mill Valley, California, with her husband and has three sons. Prairie Sonata is her first novel.”
In a subsequent email I asked Sandy to expand some upon her educational background and how she ended up where she is.
Here’s what she wrote back:
“I grew up in north end Winnipeg on Inkster Blvd. I am a graduate of I. L. Peretz Folk School and St. John’s High. I earned a B.A. in English from the University of Manitoba and my M.D. degree from the University of Manitoba.” (She later told me she left Winnipeg after graduating from medical school, when she was 25.)
A neurologist, I thought – with a very impressive CV. So, why did she decide to become a novelist I wondered –and, to be honest, since I knew that we are close in age (and I’m not exactly a spring chicken), why did she wait until now to turn out her very first novel?
So, I asked Sandy that question. Here’s what she wrote back:
“I wrote the book for a few different reasons. I had just written an article about my mother in remembrance of the fourth anniversary of her passing, and although I felt good about having remembered her that way, I was left with an uneasiness; after a couple of generations, who would remember her, and who would remember my father who died almost fifty years ago? They would become no more than people in photographs or videos. Who would remember their essence?
“So I decided to write a story set on the Manitoba prairies and use my parents as prototypes for the main characters. I created a fictional town, Ambrosia, since my mother was born and grew up in Winkler. In the end, neither my father nor my mother became any one character in particular, but you can see glimpses of them in several of the characters throughout the novel.
“I feel privileged to have had a wonderful childhood growing up in the north end of Winnipeg. Much of what I create in the novel is based on the Winnipeg Jewish community – especially Peretz School – fictionalized and transplanted to Ambrosia. Peretz School was a unique and wonderful place with caring teachers, and I wanted to capture that experience and hope that I have done so in a positive way.
“Another impetus for the novel was the state of the world at the time I began writing. I started writing in early 2016 when ISIS was at its peak, and we were able to witness their atrocities on television. I was shocked that the world had descended to this level of barbarism, and it made me wonder if civilization had advanced at all over the ages. While growing up, I remember thinking that the world was definitely going to become a better place over the years, but it certainly seemed to be falling very short of that goal. Little did I know at that time that the next four years were going to bring even more turmoil — and not just Covid-19 – but also division among people and worsening racism and anti-Semitism around the world. These last four years serve as a lesson in how quickly a society can change when presented with misinformation and lies, and how we all need to remain vigilant against bigotry and hatred, issues that my novel addresses. Mira, my main protagonist, struggles not only to cope with the random uncontrollable things that happen in her life but also to understand why one human being would willfully perpetrate evil on another. Out of these ideas grew Mira’s journey from innocence to experience.
“There are various themes in the book, both timely and timeless, and I think it would be a great addition to high school and college reading lists, and book clubs. I’ve included a Discussion and Study Guide at the end. I hope people enjoy reading it.”
Once I finished reading the book – and, if you read my adjoining review, you’ll see that I was simply floored at how good it was, I had so many more questions for Sandy. (By the way, as I write this, I’ve handed the book to my wife, who is also an avid reader. She herself said she was astonished at how good the book was when she had only finished the first few chapters.)
I asked Sandy whether she still had any relatives in Winnipeg?
She wrote back: “I still have relatives in Winnipeg from both sides, Shefrin and Danzker. My mom’s maiden name was Clara Danzker and she married my dad, Sam Shefrin. I have a sister, Myrna Shefrin, who now lives in Vancouver and a brother, Hersh Shefrin, who lives near me in Palo Alto. He won the distinguished alumnus award from the University of Manitoba in 2019. He’s an economist.” (We had an article by Myron Love in our May 29, 2019 issue about Hersh Shefrin’s receiving that award, by the way. You can find it on our website jewishpostandnews.ca if you enter the words “Hersh Shefrin” in our search engine.)
Although “Prairie Sonata” is labeled a work of fiction, there are so many passages that will remind quite a few of our readers of their own experiences, especially for anyone who had ever attended Peretz School, that I asked Sandy how much of the novel is based on her own experience?
She replied: “Good question. Prairie Sonata is a work of fiction; it’s not a memoir. Like many authors, my novel is informed by my own experiences, but it’s not autobiographical. I am not Mira. I never had a teacher like Chaver B nor did I ever have a relationship with a teacher even remotely similar to Mira’s and Chaver B’s relationship. “I was the youngest of three, not the oldest of two. My parents were not professionals. I studied piano for most of my youth, and learned a little violin in Junior High School, although one of my sons plays the violin. However, I did go to Peretz School, and I definitely wanted to capture the uniqueness and character of the school.
“Although I grew up in the 60s, the story takes place in the late 40s and early 50s, and the historical events that I describe took place during that time period, or some even earlier. Even some minor things were not part of the 60s. For example, there was no Yiddish theatre in Winnipeg in the 60s, as far as I know. The Friday night get-togethers at Peretz School were long gone by then. So I hope that anyone who attended Peretz School “would identify with the book.”
Something that I kept wondering as I made my way through the book was: Why did Sandy create a fictitious town – Ambrosia, when so much of what happens would be so familiar to anyone who grew up in Winnipeg’s Jewish community?
Her answer was that “I debated that for a long time, and you may be right, perhaps I should have, but ultimately I came to the decision to not set the story in Winnipeg for a few different reasons. I initially thought I would model the protagonist after my mother, who grew up in Winkler, although in the end Mira turned out to be her own character. I was interested in a setting closer to nature, and believed I could best accomplish that in a rural setting. I didn’t want a “city” book; I wanted a “country book,” a book about all that the fields and sky and the landscape evokes. Natural imagery is a big part of the novel, both mirroring and contrasting with what the characters are experiencing, and the landscape almost becomes a character in of itself.
“Someone suggested that I use a real place, such as Altona or Winkler, but I didn’t want to do that either, because I really knew very little about them and didn’t believe that I could accurately portray them in that time period, and would likely receive criticism for my inaccuracies. As I said, the book is not autobiographical, and I thought that if it were set outside of Winnipeg, people would be less likely to view it as a memoir.
“The novel is about Mira’s journey from innocence to experience. Ambrosia is defined as “the sweet nectar of the gods.” I thought that was the perfect name for a place that embodies the sweetness of innocence, in particular Mira’s innocence.
“Overall, I believed that a fictitious town would make the story more universal. So, I don’t consider the town of Ambrosia to be a façade, and I hope others don’t either. I wanted to create a work of fiction, and I thought that was the best way to accomplish that goal.”
Finally, I asked Sandy about her married name. How did she end up marrying someone with the name “Rabin” I wondered- and, was this really her first novel? (which I found so hard to believe because it’s so beautifully polished from beginning to end).
Sandy responded: “Rabin is really my married name. Funny you asked about a nom de plume, because my husband often said I should take one. I was never sure if he was serious. As far as I know, it was just shortened from Rabinowitz, but we haven’t talked about it in a while, so I’ll ask him again tomorrow.
“This is my first novel. I think my last short story was in grade six about the Mystery of Cornelia Hilltop — the mystery being that she had a twin, and then I wrote a short story that I sent into Chatelaine when I was about 14 that was rejected. I don’t even remember what that was about. I wrote a poem when Bobbie Kennedy died and sent it to the family, to which they graciously replied, but no novels.
“I know I’ve said already many times that this is not an autobiography, but I did have to get into my 11 and 12 year old head to write the book, and once I did, it just seemed to take off. I often wonder if I could write the same book again, or any other for that matter. I hope I can and will, but once I got going, it just seemed to flow. It was a lot of fun to write.”
Features
Is Hamas a “treatable” cancer?
By GREGORY MASON If we define Hamas as a cancer, can we devise a strategy to, if not defeat Hamas, at least manage it? Is Hamas “treatable?”
Defining treatable cancer
Although the cancer charities like to promote the notion that we are winning the war against cancer, a reference that confirms the suitability of conjoining cancer and Hamas, the reality is that five-year survival rates are increasing only slowly. While curative therapies continue to improve, early detection —encompassing both greater testing participation and technological advancements in testing —appears to be the most crucial factor in lengthened survivability.
The key treatment condition is the stage at which cancer becomes known. The typical staging has four levels, where the tumour:
- remains entirely within the margins (edges) of the organ
- reaches the margins.
- moves beyond the margin and invades the surrounding tissues.
- move another organ or system.
Sometimes oncologists refer to precancerous growths as “stage 0” when a surgeon removes a skin lesion as a precaution. Progression among the cancer stages is known as metastasis.
Most important is to understand that the five-year survival standard includes no reference to quality of life. Most cancer treatments compromise quality of life.
Patients often assume the word “cancer” means a death sentence. Yet if detected early, the idea of “treatable cancer” invariably creates a sense of optimism since it also implies a course of action leading to a “cure.” Most oncologists are wary of raising false expectations when discussing the nature of a patient’s condition and the options for treatment.
Three conditions mark a treatable cancer. - Treatment options exist.
- Actions are feasible – the patient resides where the technology, talent, and treatments (medications) are available.
- Patients receive no guarantees that exist for a cure (complete remission), extension of life, or improved quality of life.
Treatment outcomes for cancer exist in several dimensions: the extension of life, the quality of that life, and the difficulty of the treatment. Patients and physicians face complex trade-offs, where the difficulty of the treatment versus the expected gain in quality of life may induce the patient to curtail active treatment. The patient submits to the inevitable and enters palliative care.
Setting aside voodoo, cancer treatments include surgery that targets specific tumour sites, chemotherapy that uses a cocktail of chemicals that targets cancerous cells without affecting healthy tissue, and palliative care. Palliative care accepts the inevitable course of disease leading to death.
The final issue is that a systemic cancer, such as lymphoma, stands in contrast to a tumour, which exists at a defined point. Treatment is different for each type. Systemic cancers require chemotherapy, while point cancers require surgery.
Hamas as a cancer.
Some may object to my characterization of Hamas as a cancer since they see Hamas as freedom fighters for Palestinian independence. No comment. No apology.
The origin of Hamas is the Muslim Brotherhood, which started in Egypt during the late 1920s as a labour movement among Suez Canal dockworkers, led by Hassan al-Banna. Its goals were to spread Islam across the Arab world, oppose colonialism (primarily British and French) and promote the Arab mission in Palestine. This movement has spread rapidly throughout the Middle East and beyond.
Hamas (Harakat-al-Muqawama-al-Islamiya or “Islamic Resistance Movement”) was established in 1987 following the first intifada, when Arabs living in Gaza, Judea/Samaria and East Jerusalem engaged in a violent protest against what Hamas and other groups perceived as unjustified Israeli governance over their lands. A core goal was to build support for the Muslim Brotherhood, which had lost support to Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ) sponsored by Iran. It is one example of the conflict between Sunni Islam (Muslim Brotherhood) and Shia Islam (PIJ).
Rather than an isolated tumour, Hamas in Gaza is but a derivative lesion of the broader Muslim Brotherhood cancer. Although not part of the Palestinian Authority, it is the most popular movement in the West Bank. It may well have had a hand in the weekend attack in Jerusalem that killed six and injured 13, although many malign actors are available.
Another Muslim Brotherhood lesion is the Hamas leadership that has remained ensconced in luxury Qatar hotels. Israel’s recent attack on the Hamas leadership in Qatar is another attempt to excise the tumour, with a subtle twist. Qatar has operated duplicitously. On the one hand, it has sheltered Hamas leaders and shovelled buckets of money to support their war against Israel while also serving as a “neutral” mediator in the hostage negotiation. Along with Iran and Türkiye, it is a significant funder of the Brotherhood, not only throughout the Middle East, but also in Europe and North America.
Qatar has also opened a series of tumours in post-secondary education, especially in its funding of elite universities. This aligns with the long view inherent in radical Islam and the Muslim Brotherhood. Funding “endowed chairs” enables external funders to circumvent standard academic hiring procedures, placing academics with specific viewpoints in key academic positions. This becomes a critical element in the metastasis of radical Islam. In addition to promoting Islam and an anti-Israel perspective, these faculty members work in partnership with post-modern ideologies that undermine recognition of the past achievements of Western civilization. This is not to defend the past, as much exists in Western history that needs correction.
Defeating Hamas: Tactical win or strategic loss?
Israel’s goals in Gaza have fluctuated, reflecting its extraordinary duration and the existence of the hostages. Many do not want the Netanyahu government to proceed with the final expulsion of Hamas from Gaza. Most opponents to such a campaign within Israel fear it is not possible without massively increased civilian casualties, further hostage deaths, and a prohibitive cost in soldiers’ lives for the Israel Defence Forces.
In addition to the potential costs, commentators such as Andrew Fox believe it is not possible to eliminate Hamas. His essential point is that Hamas has shown a remarkable capacity to adapt. However, he has applauded the attack on the Hamas leadership in Qatar.
The situation has become dire. First, throughout the Middle East, a multitude of cancerous lesions exist in the form of radical Islamic parties vying for control. In the West Bank, in addition to Fatah, the Palestinian Authority (PA) includes other factions such as the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (a Marxist-Leninist group), the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine, the Palestinian Peoples Party, and the Palestine Popular Struggle Front. Not part of the PA, but very influential and popular are Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad.
In Gaza, in addition to Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad, the major political factions include Fatah (much weakened since 2007), a range of Salafi-Jihad Groups, and the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, all of which vie for support. Finally, in addition, several clan-based militias are operating, which Israel currently funds and arms, primarily to irritate Hamas.
A multitude of factions may arise to fill the vacuum if Hamas disappears. Indeed, none are anywhere as strong and capable as Hamas was. But deep pockets exist in the form of Qatar, Türkiye, and Iran to rebuild Islamist military capacity in Gaza.
The many points of radical Islam, comprising funding in Western universities, the mass migration that results in multiple Western societies being unable to integrate newcomers, and post-modern ideas infusing government and corporate management, have merged to create a systemic cancer that seems impervious to treatment, certainly to precise tumour excision.
Israel can play a furious whack-a-mole model of surgical strikes to excise the many tumorous lesions originating from the Muslim Brotherhood. And it may succeed in bringing Hamas to the table to release the remaining hostages and cease its Gaza operations. Israel can score a tactical victory.
But if the West declines to address the systemic cancer of radical Islam and Hamas reconstitutes itself in the West Bank, a strategic victor will elude Israel, and it will return to excising yet another tumour.
Israel’s refusal to wage the information war and Western leaders losing their way and becoming politically indebted to recent migrants may become the strategic errors prolonging the conflict.
Features
Seeking gangsters, must speak Yiddish: Bringing the Hasidic underworld to life in ‘Caught Stealing’
By PJ Grisar September 3, 2025
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
A duo of burly, gun-toting Hasidic gangsters and their doting bubbe are the breakout characters in Darren Aronofsky’s Caught Stealing — at least, for figures not of the feline variety. To bring them to life, the film had a secret weapon: a Yiddish whisperer.
Motl Didner, program director for the National Yiddish Theatre Folksbiene, first heard rumblings of the crime caper through a casting notice seeking Yiddish-speaking actors. He didn’t know the notice was for an Aronofsky film, but he passed the details along to members of the company, and even sent in a self-tape to be considered for a role.
Later, the production got in touch to use him as a Yiddish coach.
“That’s when I found out who exactly it was that I lost out to,” Didner said in a phone interview. “I don’t feel so bad about losing out to, like, Liev Schreiber.”
Didner worked with Schreiber, Vincent D’Onofrio and Carol Kane — respectively playing a pair of frightening drug lords and their grandmother — settling on a Hungarian dialect for their dialogue, and even rewriting some of their Yiddish lines. (The dynasty to which the brothers belong is never specified, but their scenes with Kane were filmed on location at a Lubavitcher household in Crown Heights, Brooklyn.)
The duo show up as a threat to the film’s protagonist, Hank (Austin Butler), who finds himself caught in the middle of their quest to recover piles of money from other ethnic gangs in 1998 New York City.
Kane, Didner said, took naturally to the mamaloshen. While she isn’t conversational in Yiddish in real life, her breakout role was as a Yiddish-speaking immigrant in Hester Street, and she more recently had Yiddish scenes in the Amazon Prime show Hunters.
Schreiber, for his part, sang Yiddish songs growing up, and “had an ear for it,” Didner said.
D’Onofrio, who isn’t Jewish, was “really kind of thrown deep into the Jewish world,” Didner said, but was very meticulous in getting his “meshugenahs” on point. Crucially, he nails the pronunciation of his beloved bubbe’s title: For native Yiddish speakers, it sounds more like “boh-beh” than “bubbie.”
Didner was on set for the scene in which Butler’s Hank slurps a bowl of matzo ball soup with the brothers. Somehow, word spread that the Oscar winner was shooting in the neighborhood, something of a novelty for the Hasidic enclave. Evidently the heartthrob has a young Chabad fan base.
“When filming wrapped at the end of the day, there were a couple hundred teenage girls waiting to get a glimpse of Austin Butler,” Didner recalled. It was like the reception of the Beatles or, better yet, Elvis.
Didner wasn’t the only dialect coach for D’Onofrio and Schreiber; they had a separate one for English.
“Darren Aronofsky was very specific,” Didner said of “the boys” — how Aronofsky referred to the characters. “He didn’t want them to speak English with a Yiddish accent.”
Instead, they speak with Hank in a measured, yet still menacing, American aksent. It’s when they discuss how to handle him — and whether he deserves to be roughed up — that they revert to Yiddish.
There were also separate consultants, Didner said, to make sure the customs included in a bustling pre-Shabbat sequence at Bubbe’s house were authentic.
Didner saw the film over the weekend, and was happy to see diverse languages included in it.
“There’s also Spanish and Russian in there,” Didner said, adding he hopes that linguistic richness is “part of an increasing trend that people are looking for that sort of authenticity.”
PJ Grisar is a Forward culture reporter. He can be reached at grisar@forward.com and @pjgrisar on Twitter.
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
What led to the complete disappearance of Sabra Hummus from store shelves?
“Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone”
-from Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi” (1970)
By BERNIE BELLAN I wasn’t actually thinking about Sabra Hummus until one day recently when I was sitting together with a group of guys – some of whom were Israeli-born when, out of the blue, one of them asked me if I knew why you couldn’t find Sabra Hummus anywhere in Winnipeg?
“Can’t find it?” I thought. Surely it must be available somewhere here. I said that I thought it must be on a grocery shelf at least in Sobeys on Taylor because if any store was going to have a product with as obvious an Israeli name as “Sabra,” it was going to be Sobeys on Taylor.
After all, going back a few years, anytime you went shopping for hummus the Sabra brand was ubiquitous.
So, I said to the fellow who had asked the question that I was now curious to delve further into whether Sabra Hummus had indeed disappeared from Winnipeg store shelves. I added that I would start by inquiring at the Sobeys store on Taylor – where I knew the manager, Dave McDonald, and that I would ask Dave whether it’s true that Sabra Hummus is no longer available at his store.
I emailed Dave asking him that question but, while I was waiting for a response, I began to search on the internet to see whether there might be an explanation as to what had happened to Sabra Hummus – and whether its disappearance from store shelves wasn’t something unique to Winnipeg.
Naturally, I began with a Google search for Sabra Hummus. While the search led me to discover many different things about Sabra Hummus, the one thing that I found most surprising is that Sabra Hummus, despite its Israeli name, is now wholly owned by PepsiCo.
It was when I received a phone call from a Sobeys representative in response to an email I had sent that it also emerged that, as has been the case with many other products that come from the US, Sobeys had decided to stop importing Sabra Hummus (which used to come in 30 different varieties) ever since Trump imposed his tariffs on Canadian exports going back to February of this year. (Sobeys, by the way, owns many different brands of stores: Sobeys, Safeway, IGA, Foodland, FreshCo, Thrifty Foods, Farn Boy, Longo’s, and Lawtons Drugs.)
But, to my even greater surprise, I learned from a representative of PepsiCo that Sabra Hummus is not even being produced any more – at least not in the plastic tubs that had the very recognizable Sabra logo on them. I’ll have more about what the PepsiCo representative wrote in an email to me, but first – a brief history of Sabra Hummus – and the many problems it’s endured over the years.
Most of my information came from – where else? Wikipedia, but it turned out the Times of Israel also had a very interesting article – written in December 2024, that examined the effect that the Boycott Divest Sanctions movement (BDS) had on Sabra Hummus.
Yet, while both the Wikipedia and the Times of Israel articles did talk about the problems that the Sabra brand had been encountering in recent years, it was only when I received that email from a representative of PepsiCo that I was able to verify that, as of now, Sabra Hummus is no longer being manufactured altogether although, as I’ll explain later, Pepsico does plan on bringing it back into production in 2026.
What happened to Sabra Hummus then?
Here’s some of the information about Sabra Hummus that is largely taken from the Wikipedia article about Sabra Hummus:
“The company was founded in 1986 by Zohar Norman and Yehuda Pearl as Sabra-Blue & White Foods. The company was bought in 2005 by Israeli food manufacturer Strauss.
“In March 2008, Strauss entered a joint-venture partnership with Frito-Lay, a division of the multinational PepsiCo corporation. Strauss owned 50% and PepsiCo 50% of the company. In November 2008, the company announced the construction of a new $61 million plant in Chesterfield County, Virginia, expected to employ 260 people and come on line in mid-2010. The company grew over 50% between August 2008 and August 2009.
According to Wikipedia, by 2016, Sabra Hummus had become the dominant player when it came to selling hummus in the United States: “By 2016, Sabra had gained a 60% market share of hummus in the United States, and, through its co-ownership and sales channels with PepsiCo, was close to $1 billion in annual sales.”
The Times of Israel article noted that Sabra’s share of the hummus market in the US grew even more: “At the start of 2021, Sabra Dipping Company — which is jointly owned by Strauss Group and PepsiCo — sold US supermarkets nearly two-thirds of their hummus.”
Yet, it all seemed to start coming apart in recent years. By 2024, according to Wikipedia, Sabra’s share of the US hummus market had dropped to only “36%.”
There are many reasons for Sabra’s rapid descent from dominance of the US hummus market and both the Wikipedia and Times of Israel articles examine those reasons, but it does seem strange that, notwithstanding the drop in sales that Sabra might have suffered in the past few years, PepsiCo has simply stopped producing it altogether.
I wouldn’t have believed that until I received the email from a representative of Pepsico, to which I referred earlier. Here’s what I was told: “Regrettably, we are temporarily stepping back from full-size hummus tubs to improve product offerings. We know that’s a big disappointment since fans like you have been looking high and low for it!
“Our full-size hummus tubs are expected back in late 2026. In the meantime, our Guacamole and Hummus Snackers remain available at many grocery stores across Canada.”
After reading that email, one might be forgiven for thinking that something drastic – something beyond loss of market share, had happened to Sabra Hummus.
But Sabra had had huge problems in the past – from which it always bounced back.
Here’s what Wikipedia noted about problems Sabra had encountered in the past: “On April 8, 2015, Sabra recalled 30,000 cases of its classic hummus after a tub in Michigan tested positive for Listeria.”
Then, the Wikipedia article went on to say: “On November 19, 2016, Sabra voluntarily recalled multiple hummus varieties across the U.S. after Listeria was discovered at one of its manufacturing plants, though the company stated the bacteria had not been found in any of its actual products.
“In March 2021, Sabra recalled about 2,100 cases of 10 oz. Classic Hummus, following a routine inspection by the FDA in the US, due to a possible salmonella contamination. The recall affected 16 states in the U.S.”
Yet, despite all that, as has previously been noted, the Times of Israel article of December 2024 pointed out that, prior to that March 2021 product recall, Sabra Hummus still dominated the US market for hummus, to the extent that nearly two-thirds of the hummus sold by US supermarkets came from Sabra.
To this point we haven’t mentioned one other factor that certainly affected sales of Sabra Hummus, although to what extent is very hard to determine: The concerted boycott campaign which was part of the BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanctions) movement that targeted Sabra Hummus in particular, and which had been started at several different universities in the US, beginning in 2010.
According to the Times of Israel December 2024 article, the “campaign against Sabra hummus started on the US West Coast 14 years ago, when anti-Israel activists began denouncing Sabra for donating food to the IDF Golani Brigade.
However, despite that campaign having “kicked into higher gear”… with “hundreds of supermarkets and other stores in North America and Europe” having had stickers denouncing Israel placed on tubs of Sabra Hummus, the ToI article insists that the BDS campaign which was carried on mostly on US college campuses was not a major factor in declining Sabra Hummus sales.
Instead, the Times of Israel article claims it was the March 2021 product recall that was the decisive factor in Sabra Hummus sales plummeting. According to the ToI article, “a salmonella contamination recall on products made at Sabra’s Virginia factory took a devastating toll on the brand, which lost half its market share in just one quarter.”
And yet – to make matters even more complicated, an article in still another publication suggested that, notwithstanding that March 2021 product recall – which also led to a complete shutdown of Sabra’s primary manufacturing plant in Virginia, sales began to bounce back in 2022!
In a December 2022 article in an online publication titled “Manufacturing Dive,” Sabra CEO Joey Bergstein is quoted as saying that the brand has been “‘consistently climbing back,’ and it has regained its No. 1 position in the hummus category, according to IRI data cited by Sabra. When it was missing from shelves, he said more than half of consumers decided not to buy hummus instead of switching to another brand. Those who did switch are coming back to Sabra, the IRI data showed, and the brand is taking back market share.
“‘When you stop production, you open the door for a competitor,’ Bergstein said. ‘We’ve been able to grow back in a relatively short period following that disruption, which I think speaks to the health of the brand.’”
In the final analysis, there is a combination of factors that have led to the disappearance of Sabra Hummus from store shelves – not, as I first thought, perhaps only in Winnipeg but, as it turned out, everywhere in Canada and, as I learned after reading that email from the PepsiCo representative – in the US as well.
There were multiple incidents of suspected contamination of Sabra products; there was the campaign that was part of the BDS movement to boycott Israeli products – especially Sabra products; and finally, there was the decision by major Canadian grocers to stop importing products from the US.
Although I did like Sabra Hummus, I can’t say that I’m heartbroken to learn of its disappearance. But it is sad to think that a product which had such an identifiably Israeli name is no longer available – even if that product had stopped being manufactured in Israel years ago.
One more note: In 2018 PepsiCo acquired another well known Israeli food company: SodaStream. SodaStream still has a plant in Israel although, again after coming under fire for having a plant on the West Bank, SodaStream closed that plant in 2015 and opened a new plant within the green line. Chalk that one up to a victory for the BDS movement. I wonder whether, in the future, we’ll learn more about how much damage the BDS movement really did cause Sabra Hummus. It still seems strange to me that a product which was, until quite recently, the dominant player in its field, has simply disappeared. It suggests to me that the BDS movement had quite a bit more impact than one might be willing to concede.