Uncategorized
These almost-too-cute-to-eat hamantaschen are baked for a good cause
(New York Jewish Week) — Baker Michal Prevor, the founder and owner of Babka Bailout, makes hamantaschen at her Jersey City bakery all year long, not just for Purim. Her inventive fillings of the triangular-shaped cookie include guava jam, dulce de leche and date nut.
Ahead of the festive holiday of Purim this year, which begins on the evening of March 6, Prevor decided to kick the creativity up a notch: She’s gone a bit wild, offering a collection of hamantaschen that are decorated to look like animals.
“When I was a little girl I ate with my eyes,” Prevor, 47, told the New York Jewish Week. “I always wanted to buy anything that looked like a character.”
Inspired by some googly eyes that she had leftover in her kitchen from Halloween, Prevor created the fanciful cookies, which sell for $6 each. Decorated as bunnies, kittens, giraffes and bears, the hamantaschen are almost too cute to eat. But make no mistake: Iced with white chocolate or dark chocolate and filled with a choice of nutella, dulce de leche or cookie butter — fillings she feels kids would like — the cookies are meant to be consumed and enjoyed.
As both her animal-themed hamantaschen and the unusual name of her bakery business might suggest, Prevor is not one to do the expected: The mom of two founded Babka Bailout in May 2020 at the height of the pandemic — despite the fact that she had never baked a babka before. Rather, her motivation was to help a friend who had fallen on hard times during lockdown and was having trouble feeding her family of five.
The plan, said Prevor, was to make and sell homemade babka and give the proceeds to their friend. Prevor, who lived in Hoboken at the time, went on a local moms’ Facebook group and wrote that she was selling babkas to help her friend. Within five minutes of posting, she sold 40 nutella or cinnamon babka at $14 each.
“The name for the company was my husband’s idea,” said Prevor. “Some people didn’t have the government to bail them out. Lots of people were left behind and not in great situations. The name was a fun spin — the babka would bail my friend out.”
Prevor’s husband, Grant, a home builder who bakes as a hobby, made that first batch of babka, while Prevor watched and learned. Their two daughters, Ariel and Amelie, who were 15 and 12 years old at time, pitched in, too. “Everyone was working,” said Prevor. “All hands on deck. It gave us a schedule, and it made my kids busy at a time when a lot of kids were very depressed.”
From there, Prevor started baking every week. “I was making hundreds of babkas a week from home,” she said. “It was quite an adventure. I had to start very early — the babkas had to rise. The oven could only fit eight babkas at a time, and it took 45 minutes to bake the babkas in the home oven at 350 degrees.”
“My oven door literally fell off from all of the opening and closing,” she added.
Prevnor had never baked babka before she launched Babka Bailout in May 2020. Since then, she’s expanded her menu with inventive creations. (Michelle Gevint)
Two months after Babka Bailout launched, Prevor began experimenting with different babka flavors, like cereal milk and oreos-and-nutella (both suggested by her daughters). In March 2021, she added hamantaschen for Purim. Prevor tested more than 40 different recipes for hamantaschen until she came up with an amalgamation that she felt was best — and decided to keep what she calls her favorite cookie permanently on the menu.
For flavor inspiration, Prevor said she draws upon the diverse populations of New York and Jersey City, in particular, as well as her own multi-cultural background: Prevor spent the first six years of her life on a moshav (an agricultural cooperative) in the Sinai Peninsula where her father, Ofer Rozenfeld, grew melons and flowers.
In 1981, ahead of Israel’s impending withdrawal from from the Sinai, the family moved to Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic, where her father continued his farming. Then, a few years later, when Prevor’s older brother turned 18, the family returned to Israel so that he, and the other four children in the family, could eventually serve in the Israel Defense Forces.
Following her service, Prevor moved to New York where she attended New York University and double majored in political science and journalism. A year after graduation, she married Grant, a fellow Spanish-speaking Jew who grew up in Puerto Rico. In 2005, when their first daughter was 10 months old, the family moved to New Jersey.
Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, Prevor sold irrigation equipment designed by her father. She had her last business meeting via Zoom in March 2020 — and two months later, she came face-to-face with her friend’s financial problems and decided to help. “Giving back to the community and tzedakah have always been indoctrinated into my upbringing,” Prevor said. “My parents took care of anybody they came into contact with who needed help. And I think that is part of having a Jewish soul.”
Babka Bailout’s business has continued to grow — in addition to online orders via their web site, Prevor’s products can be found at Butterfield Market, a gourmet grocery store on Madison Avenue and 85th Street.
Last September, Babka Bailout moved to a commercial kitchen in Jersey City, where Prevor and her family now live. She now has a storefront connected to the bakery where passersby stop in to buy treats — many Manhattanites place advance orders and make the short trip over the Hudson themselves, Prevor said.
“We are getting their hamantaschen for Purim this year,” said Joelle Obsatz, owner of Butterfield Market. “They have faces on it. I have never seen anything like it — I think it will be a hit. We will only be selling our house-made hamantaschen and Babka Bailout’s.”
As for Prevor’s previously down-on-her-luck friend, she now assists Prevor in the kitchen. These days, Prevor donates portions of Babka Bailout’s proceeds to numerous organizations, including Welcome Home Jersey City, an organization that supports refugees arriving in the area. “Whenever there is an opportunity to help, I do, either by baking or donating money,” she said. “Whenever an organization asks, my rule of thumb is to help.”
While Prevor may have never intended to become a professional baker, it’s clear she’s established a perfect niche for herself and her community. “In our little shop, people that pick up our baked goods come from all over — the Arab world, the Philippines, Latin America. Once they try them, they are hooked,” she said. “That kind of ties into all my flavors. I love diversity. I love learning from other people and taking flavors from other countries and making everybody feel welcome.”
—
The post These almost-too-cute-to-eat hamantaschen are baked for a good cause appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Shabbat Vayikra: Learning From the Traditions of the Past
The term for rabbinic ordination is Semicha. It means laying hands on someone, which implies confidence, identifying with the person, and expecting there to be a continuity in passing on the tradition. The word comes from the law mentioned in the context of sacrifices, where one was commanded to place one’s hands on the head of the sacrifice before it was offered.
“And if a person brings a sacrifice to the Tabernacle … he should place his hand on the head of the sacrifice, and it will be accepted as an atonement” (Vayikra1:4).
Placing one’s hands on the animal was meant to create a bond between the human and the animal, and to respect the sacrifice the animal was making. The animal represented one’s failure to rise above the norms expected of humans. Therefore, there was a need to atone. The sacrifice of the animal was giving the human a second chance, and for this, he had to be grateful to the animal and God. To put one’s hands on the animal’s head was a sign of empathy. Ironically, we are, in a way, blessing them.
When one blesses children, one also places one’s hands on their heads. This goes back to Yaakov’s blessing. When we bless our children, we are showing we care and praying they will be protected and succeed in life and carry on our traditions.
The same thing happens when a rabbi is appointed. Those who give Semicha hope the rabbi will continue their traditions and work to keep them and the community alive, and follow the spirit of the Torah as well as the law. This too can be a kind of sacrifice, of oneself for the greater good. Sadly, as with parents and rabbis, not everyone succeeds. Sacrifices had another important function: community and eating together.
Although the sacrificial system has fallen into disuse for the past 2,000 years, there are still lessons to be learned from the procedures and laws mentioned here in the Book of Vayikra, which merit analysis.
The issue of sacrifices is controversial. But the voice on this issue that resonates with me is that of the great Maimonides, who seems to have two different points of view. In his great work, the Mishneh Torah, he includes in great detail those areas that have fallen into disuse, such as sacrifices and many of the laws of purity. But on the other hand, in his philosophical work, The Guide to the Perplexed (Section 3.32) he says quite clearly that sacrifices were introduced because that’s what everybody did at that time, and it would have seemed abnormal to start a religion without including sacrifices. His implication is that they were a temporary feature that would be replaced. And, in fact, they were replaced by devotional prayer after the Second Temple was destroyed.
I would suggest that whereas nowadays nobody would think of starting a new religion without prayer, it’s possible that at some stage in the future, we may substitute prayer in the way we recite it today by Artificial Intelligence or some other system. Who knows? But in the meantime, as I said above, there are important lessons we can learn from the past from traditions that are applicable today.
The author is a writer and rabbi, based in New York.
Uncategorized
Extremist Yesterday, Authority Today: The Media Whitewashes Joe Kent
National Counterterrorism Center Director Joseph Kent attends a House Homeland Security hearing entitled “Worldwide Threats to the Homeland,” on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC, US, Dec. 11, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Elizabeth Frantz
Within hours of publishing his resignation letter on X, Joe Kent, the Director of the National Counterterrorism Center, had reached millions.
The media, predictably, was enthralled.
“‘Iran posed no imminent threat to our nation’: Trump-appointed intelligence official resigns over Iran war,” CNN blared.
Axios followed suit, presenting Kent’s claims with little skepticism: “‘No imminent threat’: U.S. Counterterrorism Center head resigns over Iran war.”
The Hill amplified another conspiratorial voice, headlining Tucker Carlson’s warning that “neocons” would now try to destroy Kent.
The New York Times published multiple pieces within hours, including one that packaged his resignation letter as a standalone piece.
Readers were invited to see Kent’s words as a serious, insider indictment of both the war against Iran and President Donald Trump’s administration itself.
Director Kent is entitled to resign on a matter of principle.
He is not entitled, however, to falsely smear Israel on his way out by abusing the tragic death of his wife.
Shannon Kent died not in a “war manufactured by Israel,” but at the hands of ISIS in Syria in 2019. The… https://t.co/mKKVm3epVH
— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) March 17, 2026
After all, this was a man personally appointed by the president, working under Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard.
The Daily Mail went further still, elevating Kent’s rhetoric about the “Israel lobby” in a headline that nodded to one of the oldest conspiratorial tropes in circulation.

The Associated Press soberly reported that Kent had resigned because “Iran posed no immediate threat.”
Across outlets, the framing was clear: Kent was to be taken seriously.
His claims — that the war was driven by Israel and its American “lobby,” that Trump had been “deceived,” and that Iran posed no imminent threat — were not meaningfully interrogated, but simply transmitted.
Even his more outlandish assertions were handled with care.
Kent claimed that his wife, Shannon, had died in a “war manufactured by Israel.”
In reality, Shannon Kent was killed in Syria in 2019 by an ISIS suicide bomber, a fact Kent himself stated plainly in a 2020 NBC op-ed. That article did not mention Israel once.
Odd how you didn’t mention Israel when you wrote this in 2020, isn’t it?
pic.twitter.com/leDBGWP1t7
— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) March 17, 2026
Apparently, it is only in retrospect that Kent has decided ISIS — an Islamist terrorist group that broadcast the executions of Western hostages from the Syrian desert — was somehow a product of Israel.
Yet even here, major outlets softened the reality.
NPR avoided stating how she was killed, noting only that she “died serving in Syria in 2019.”
The BBC similarly declined to mention ISIS, reporting merely that she “was killed in a bombing in Syria.”
This is how credibility is quietly manufactured: not through explicit endorsement, but through omission.
But there is a deeper problem:
The same media outlets now treating Kent as a credible whistleblower were, until recently, describing him very differently.
When Kent first entered national politics, his record was viewed — quite rightly — as something far more troubling.
Kent, 44, has twice run unsuccessfully for Congress in Washington state.
During his 2022 campaign, he gave an interview to a neo-Nazi YouTuber who had praised Adolf Hitler as a “complicated historical figure.” He also engaged with figures from white nationalist circles and reportedly complained that America was “anti-white.”
He sought support from Holocaust denier and white supremacist Nick Fuentes during a GOP primary. Though Kent later attempted to distance himself from Fuentes, the outreach itself was not in dispute.
His campaign drew endorsements from figures like Paul Gosar, who has long associated with white nationalists, and Marjorie Taylor Greene, who has a long and well-documented history of antisemitic rhetoric. Kent’s website also featured support from Arizona state senator Wendy Rogers (R), who was later censured after appearing at a white nationalist conference and invoking anti-Jewish tropes.
Kent even hired a member of the Proud Boys as a campaign consultant.
At the time, much of the media covered this record in detail.
CNN itself reported extensively on Kent’s “past association with extremists” and his interactions with Nazi sympathizers and Holocaust deniers.
Now, that same outlet reduces this history to a paragraph that references his “past associations with far-right figures became a key issue,” while dedicating far more space to his peddling of conspiracy theories about the murder of Charlie Kirk.
The Daily Mail omitted it entirely, opting instead to highlight his “decorated military career” and a spat with Laura Loomer.
Equally absent from much of the coverage was the extent to which Kent’s claims were rejected across the political spectrum. Rep. Josh Gottheimer (D-NJ) pushed back publicly, while White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt directly called his central claim — that Iran posed no imminent threat — “false,” stressing that President Trump had “strong and compelling evidence” of an impending attack.
Joe Kent resigning and immediately pivoting to blaming Israel for everything is as predictable as it is unserious.
Scapegoating Israel isn’t just a tired antisemitic trope – it’s anti-American.
This is a guy with ties to white supremacists and has “PANZER” tattooed on his arm,… https://t.co/qbZRqf0s0c
— Rep Josh Gottheimer (@RepJoshG) March 17, 2026
In other words, the man has not changed; he is still peddling the same absurd conspiracies as he always has.
What has changed is the media’s willingness to contextualize him.
When Kent was politically inconvenient, his extremism was central to his identity.
Now that his claims can be used to undermine a war involving Israel — and, by extension, the Trump administration — that same extremism is quietly set aside.
The result is that a figure once treated as beyond the pale is suddenly recast as a credible authority on matters of national security and foreign policy.
His claims are not strengthened by evidence, but by the selective amnesia of the outlets amplifying them.
And the public is left with a dangerously distorted picture: not just of Joe Kent, but of the issues he is now being used to comment on.
Because when the media decides who is credible based not on consistency, but on convenience, it does more than mislead.
It erodes the very standard by which credibility is judged in the first place.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.
Uncategorized
The Nazis didn’t care that Paul Klee wasn’t Jewish
Paul Klee is hard to describe. The German artist’s works, which he began creating in his childhood until 1940, when he died at age 60, vary widely; they often feature abstract forms, but just as often figures. They are known for strong colors, but some are monochrome. He taught at the Bauhaus school, is considered by some to be the father of abstract art, but he’s also foundational to surrealism and German expressionism. He uses cubism and pointillism.
What he is not particularly known for is his political statements. But a new exhibit, Paul Klee: Other Possible Worlds, opening this week at the Jewish Museum in New York, is looking to change that.
The exhibit, curated by Mason Klein in his final exhibit as senior curator at the museum, includes work from throughout Klee’s career, tracing a throughline of political commentary on fascism and authoritarianism that has gone little discussed. Its centerpiece is the first U.S. exhibit of a cycle of sketches the artist made in response to the Nazi assumption of power in 1933. It was an important year for Klee — it was the year he was removed from his teaching position at the Düsseldorf Academy of Art, in response to pressure from the new regime.

Klee was not Jewish. But Nazi press defamed him as Jewish anyway to justify his termination. “He tells everybody he has pure Arabian blood in his veins, but he is actually a typical Galician Jew,”read an article in Nazi outlet Die Rote Erde.
Klee was one of the first artists the Nazis declared “degenerate,” a descriptor applied to the abstract artists, often Jewish, who the regime sought to smear as sick, immoral and corrupting to the idea of German culture that Hitler promoted; 17 of his works were featured in the infamous Degenerate Art exhibition organized by Nazi leaders in 1937, which compared the artworks to the drawings of the insane. In another Nazi publication, Volksparole, he was accused of advancing “the Bolshevist ideals in art of communists and Jews.”
Klee, along with his wife Lily and son Felix, fled to Switzerland. But before he left, he drew hundreds of sketches satirizing Nazi ideology, full of chaotic lines, evoking the distress of the era. Klee’s concerns about the shifting culture are also seen in the pointed titles of each work, which he noted in a meticulous catalogue he maintained.

In “Stammtischler,” a clearly recognizable portrait of Adolf Hitler stares out from the page, with small, beady, scribbled eyes. In English, the title translates to “drinking companion,” a term with the positive-leaning connotation of an affable friend. But in German, writes curator and art-historian Pamela Kort, the term Klee uses suggests an oaf who voices loud, poorly-informed opinions. Given that U.S. pundits often discuss which candidate the voters can imagine drinking a beer with, “Stammtischler” feels like a warning.
The museum’s director, James S. Snyder, noted the exhibit’s resonance to our current era in his remarks at the exhibit’s press preview. And it is hard not to think of our current political milieu when perusing Klee’s sketches.
“This Game is Getting Out of Hand,” which shows a group of children with several balls in the air, depicts brawling as much as playing; Klee, the wall text elsewhere in the exhibit notes, was deeply concerned about the long-lasting effects of exposing children to Nazi ideology and violence. This evokes today’s extremist influencers — often young men who grew up immersed in the toxic soup of the internet — who use a trolling tone when espousing antisemitism or misogyny. It’s all a joke, supposedly, but the joke is getting less and less funny.

The political dimensions of Klee’s work are most obvious in the sketches. But they highlight the mockery of authoritarianism and fascism woven throughout his other work. “Your Ancestor,” a drawing of a monstrous, Gollum-like creature, pokes fun at the Nazi focus on eugenics. The wall text argues that his strangely colored paintings of fruit can be read as commentary on the pitfalls of selective breeding. “Athlete’s Head,” a portrait of a distorted face, is, according to the exhibit, “satirizing the Nazis’ superficial glorification of the heroic athlete” in light of a required five hours a day of athletics in schools.
Klee’s dismissal from his teaching position was not the first time Klee was slurred as a Jew. Over a decade earlier, when he was nominated as a professor at the Stuttgart Art Academy, critics who felt his art was too left-wing referred to him as “Paul Zion Klee.” (He did not get the position.)
This inspired Klee to paint “Harlequin on the Bridge,” which deals openly with antisemitism. In it, a harlequin figure represents Klee himself, a Star of David hanging over his head, against an ethereal, unsettling background. The work wrestles with the idea of the perpetual outsider, whether jester or Jew, as the bridge between worlds, their positionality enabling them to access new ideas, combine categories and reach other worlds.

Klee’s politics are not always obvious. At times, it can feel hard to imagine that these abstract, modernist works are truly making a winking political commentary on antisemitism or Nazism, especially given that Klee did not speak publicly about his political views — though he wrote about them in personal letters to his wife and friends. Other Possible Worlds compellingly highlights the political valences in his work, but they remain open to a wide range of interpretations.
It all raises the question of why, if so much of his work had a political subtext, Klee did not take a louder, more pointed stand against the Nazis. Even his sketches, which criticize the new political regime, do so via caricature and irony. The titles, which give a trenchant context to each work, are still indirect. The power of Klee’s work lies in its ambiguity and ability to contain worlds, but it makes for poor activism.
In his writing, Klee appears to have decided that the best response to the vilification was to refuse to dignify it with any acknowledgment, however much he addressed the criticism in his art.
“It seems unworthy of me to undertake anything against such crude attacks,” he wrote in a letter to his wife. “For even if it were true that I am a Jew and came from Galicia that would not affect my values as a person or my achievement by an iota.”
Paul Klee: Other Possible Worlds will be on display March 20 – July 26, 2026 at The Jewish Museum in Manhattan.
The post The Nazis didn’t care that Paul Klee wasn’t Jewish appeared first on The Forward.

