Exodus 25
1 And the LORD spoke unto Moses, saying: 2 'Speak unto the children of Israel, that they take for Me an offering; of every man whose heart make him willing you shall take My offering. 3And this is the offering which ye shall take of them: gold, and silver, and brass; 4 and blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats' hair; 5 and rams' skins dyed red, and sealskins, and acacia-wood; 6 oil for the light, spices for the anointing oil, and for the sweet incense;
Family lore has it that Jacob Raphael, my grandfather who plied garlic from a pushcart on the Lower East Side, went to the docks one morning to pick up the daily supply, only to find that the boat hold had flooded and the entire cache of garlic was soaked and ruined. Liquidating his entire savings, he purchased the entire load of garlic for a fraction of its original cost, dried it, pulverized it and initiated his version of the American success story by selling powdered garlic. Thank me next time as you are enjoying your well seasoned pizza at Antico’s.
J. Raphael and Sons, importers, grinders and mixers of spices was thus born, the first small factory on Rivington Street on the Lower East Side followed by a larger plant in Williamsburg Brooklyn, in the shadow of the bridge that shares the same name. Jacob ran the business, as he did his family, with an iron fist and a permanently affixed scowl. Four sons tended to the details: Sam, the buying, Max the shipping and billing, Sidney the selling and Alvin, my father, the grinding, mixing and packaging.
Exodus 30
7 And Aaron shall burn thereon incense of sweet spices; every morning, when he dresses the lamps, he shall burn it. 8 And when Aaron lights the lamps at dusk, he shall burn it, a perpetual incense before the LORD throughout your generations.
Whether you arrived by car or via the M train that stopped at Marcy Avenue approximately a ¼ mile away you knew you were approaching the spice factory by the mélange of aromas- cinnamon, allspice, cloves, garlic and nutmeg. Walking up the stairs to the second floor of the aged red brick building one would find my father directing the grinding, mixing and packaging. Workers sauntered about in air diffused with spice dust - that fine mixture coated everything; windows, machinery, clothing and, in very short order, hair, faces and forearms. It is impossible to know whether the daily exposure to that airborne mixture was in anyway responsible for my father’s dying of cancer at the age of 49.
Kings 1: Chapter 10
1 And when the queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon because of the name of the LORD, she came to prove him with hard questions. 2 And she came to Jerusalem with a very great train, with camels that bore spices and gold very much, and precious stones;.
In the evening, in a small split level home in Bayside, Queens, it was the smell of cinnamon and allspice that first announced that his arrive and a small boy would run down the stairs to greet him at the screen door. Over 50 years later, that image of his smile, his spice encrusted clothing and, perhaps more than anything, the rich mixture of spice aromas remains so vivid.
Song of Songs Chapter 4
11 Thy lips, O my bride, drop honey-honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
16Awake, O north wind; and come. thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his precious fruits.
Fragrances can be so infused with emotional potency. I pass a jasmine tree on my daily Sandy Spring walks and suddenly am flushed with memories and images of Jerusalem. We visit an acquaintance at a hospital and, spurred on by the smells of antiseptics, painful memories of lost love ones wash over us. The odor of mildew brings us back to visits to long passed grandparents and elderly relatives.
As I light the havdolah candle and inhale the sweetness of the cloves a flicker of memory slips into consciousness; a cinnamon tinted man preparing compounds to flavor and sweeten our lives, and a young boy, standing by the screen door waiting for the first fragrant hints that his father has come home. The lid is closed, the candle is extinguished but the memory lingers.
"Blessed are you, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, creator of all kinds of spices"
