Jessica Siskin just published her debut novel, but she’s been on our radar since her days as a Rice Krispie treat influencer. Yes, you read that correctly: Siskin, who, along with the title “novelist,” also calls herself a “former fashion executive and food art pioneer,” gained a social media following as a successful “Rice Krispie treat artist,” crafting elaborate and beautiful crispy marshmallow desserts (including this impressive seder plate) and working with brands to create gooey depictions of their products. But behind the scenes, she was writing what would eventually became “Looks Perfect,” a novel about a fashion designer and influencer who has it all — at least, that’s how it looks online.
From her joyfully absurd depictions of Jewish food (bagel and lox, anyone?) we had a hunch Siskin would have a delightful list of Jewish joy-makers — and we were right.
Here are 9 things that bring Jessica Siskin Jewish joy:
Jewish geography: I know people love to act above it, but I think at the end of the day, Jewish geography is about belonging. It’s a concrete enactment of the Jewish value for community, a way that even the most secular Jew can continue to participate in an ancient peoplehood. There is something so special about knowing someone who knows someone, about our unique ability to shine a blacklight on the invisible string that connects everyone, Jewish or not, to one another. When someone says they love someone that I love, it’s shorthand for many other things we’d have in common. There’s a whole language underneath Jewish geography that I feel deeply fortunate to participate in.
A chunky chai choker: A couple of months ago I saw an extremely cool girl hailing a cab in SoHo wearing this Choked by a Thread necklace. I googled “jade chunky chai choker” and found it in a second, and sent the link to my literary agent, Sarah, who is also one of my best friends and the person I send all my cool fashion finds to. We immediately decided that we both needed the necklace and bought them for one another as an early book-publication celebration present. I love how cool it is and also how Jewish it is; it feels to me like the Jewish version of a Chrome Hearts cross necklace I wasn’t allowed to have in high school for obvious reasons.
Edith’s Sandwich Counter frozen iced coffee (New York City): I love that this frozen coffee doesn’t just try to replicate an Israeli iced cafe but iterates on it by adding tahini. It’s so good and hits the spot every time.
My personal Jewish reference book: I don’t remember how I came across “To Life, a Celebration of Jewish Being and Thinking” by Rabbi Harold S. Kushner, but it’s become my favorite Jewish reference. It distills the teachings of centuries of scholars and the Torah in a way that’s really easy to connect to, especially when I want to learn about holidays that I don’t celebrate as a Reform Jew. My favorite line in the book is one I post every year on Rosh Hashanah: “The traditional greeting on Rosh Hashanah is L’shanah tovah tikatevu — ‘May you be inscribed [in God’s book] for a good year.’ On January 1, we wish each other a ‘Happy New Year’ because the goal of secular society is to be happy. But on Rosh Hashanah, we remind ourselves that our real goal is not to strive for happiness, but to strive for goodness. If we do that, happiness will follow.” Absolute banger and incredible reminder.
The perfect Jewish wedding gift: I’m not going to lie, I’ve been gatekeeping what I think is the best wedding gift ever, a mezuzah that is made in Israel with petals from the couple’s wedding floral arrangements. When I want to buy this for a couple, I bring a little Ziploc to the wedding and collect some flowers at the end of the night, and then mail them over to Israel, where they’re encased in resin and sent back as a mezuzah. I think it’s so special and Talia is so kind, communicative, talented and easy to work with.
The quintessential Jewish novel: Nora Ephron’s “Heartburn” is the quintessential Jewish novel to me, and also happens to be my favorite novel. The main character, Rachel Samstat, is so deeply, idiosyncratically Jewish without becoming a caricature. I especially love how there are recipes woven into the text. I love everything Nora Ephron ever touched, but I’ve read this book at least a dozen times and it never gets old.
Sending visitors to my apartment home with a Jewish parting gift: I had matches that say “Temple Beth Siskin” made for my apartment for my 40th birthday party. I still use them to light Shabbat candles and give them to people who stop by. The inscription came from the fact that I love to host Shabbat and when I was looking at apartments, there was one in the East Village in a revamped synagogue. I didn’t get that apartment, but it planted the seed of the idea.
Phish: I’ve been to 110 Phish shows as of press time, and I love how Jewish the band is. The running theory is that with its Vermont roots, Phish built a loyal fan base at Jewish summer camps, and there’s actually a book about Phish’s connection to the Jewish community called “This Is Your Song Too,” but I found it really academic and never finished it. When they play at Madison Square Garden I love to go by the minyan that fans always put together at set break; it’s just the definition of Jewish Joy to me. The band occasionally plays “Avinu Malkeinu,” and when people say live music is a religious experience, they don’t know what they’re talking about if they haven’t sobbed to Phish performing the prayer in an arena.
My Hebrew name plate necklace and unlikely friendship with Shlomo: In the fall of 2022, while I was trying to make progress on my novel, a friend offered me her apartment in Tel Aviv for a month while she’d be visiting family in the U.S. I knew very few people there at the time, and everyone I knew in the U.S. was sleeping all day [because of time zones], so it was an incredible opportunity to write. One day I walked past a jewelry shop with a sign advertising same-day Hebrew name plate necklaces, and I’d been wanting one that spelled Jessica phonetically. I walked in and found Shlomo, who was born right in Tel Aviv in 1942 and grew up his entire life a block from his store. He was alone in the shop, and asked if I had time to hear a story. It turned out a friend he had known since childhood who was a Holocaust survivor had just passed away that morning, and he wanted to tell me about him. I live to bear witness, and ended up staying for hours. Visiting Shlomo, hearing his stories about his friends, his family and the various wars he fought in, and looking through the photo albums he would bring in just to show me, became a part of my regular routine. Before I left town, he took me and a friend on a historical walking tour of his life, which was so special. Each time I’ve returned to Tel Aviv, I have visited Shlomo — I even got to celebrate his 81st birthday with him a few years ago. We text on WhatsApp on holidays and whenever else we think of one another, each writing in our own language and using Google Translate. Unfortunately, his shop closed since my last visit so I can’t send you there, but as such a huge source of Jewish joy in my life, he deserved a mention.
New Year, More Kveller. A few dollars keeps Kveller joyfully, honestly free.
