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How does one do—notoriously pessimistic and humorously insightful essayist— David Rakoff’s work justice? How does one begin to fumble for the words to embody his literary range? Rakoff, who just passed away at the age of 47, wrote and spoke in a way that so remarkably reflected our uncertain collective reality—in his profundity, in his candidness, and in analogies so apt and relevant they surely required years of careful research into our human minutiae. In Rakoff’s essays, there’s deep pain, there’s sardonic humor, there’s desperate hatred, there’s even rhyme (sometimes). In reading Rakoff’s essays, you find yourself wondering over and over, how did he know? How did he so scrupulously pinpoint the intricacies of the human psyche? Below are just a few surface-scratching must-read hits from Rakoff’s prolific career:

In “The Waiting,” an essay which appeared last year in the New York Times Magazine, Rakoff describes the process of battling a long illness, while the greatest struggle at times seems resisting the urge to overanalyze his caregivers‘ words and demeanors as significant, as a predictor of outcomes. Rakoff writes, of the encouraging and empathetic feedback we are programmed to deliver to one another, “…as an anticipatory tool, it does not soften the blow, indeed it does the opposite. It leaves you exposed, like grabbing onto the trunk of a tree for support in a storm only to find the wood soaked through and punky and coming apart in your hands.” Undeniably, anyone who is human comprehends the feeling Rakoff captures, remembers the exact moment even, when plumbing the depths of desperation he loaded undue significance on the words of another. Anyone who is human recalls the moment in which he became—however fleetingly—superstitious.

In the essay “Stiff as a Board, Light as a Feather,” which Rakoff recited on This American Life earlier this year, he describes the experience of having a nerve in his left arm severed, causing him to have the occasional “gesture of someone who danced…which is very different,” he says, “from having been a dancer.” During the show, Rakoff elucidates the processes our bodies undergo, which we rarely question until they manifest as physical abnormalities. “There are some questions in life the very speaking of which are their own undoing,” he explains, for instance, “is this real?” It is the question, ultimately, which awakens him to the reality of his situation. Rakoff manages to take his ravaging sickness, and not only approach it with objectivity, but extrapolate to some wider, more philosophical meaning about the nature of consciousness. Whether or not he fully intends to, Rakoff can scarcely avoid offering us an outstretched hand, a gateway toward common identification. It’s never merely his experience, but what his tells us about all our own.

In 1996, on This American Life, Rakoff described his time spent dressed as Sigmund Freud in Barney’s department store Christmas window display in “Christmas Freud.” A version of the essay also appears in his collection, Fraud. “In the window I fantasize about starting an entire Christmas Freud movement,” says Rakoff, waxing on the complex relationship between psychoanalysis, spirituality and commerce across generations. “In department stores across America, people leave display window couches snifflingly and meaningfully whispering, ‘Thank you, Christmas Freud,’” he writes. Not afraid to go over the top, Rakoff undauntedly appropriated the situations which befell him with the mastery and dexterity of a world-class storyteller.

Rakoff writes in “All The Time We Have,” in his collection Half-Empty, of the death of his therapist of ten years (Rakoff was something of a self-professed therapy junkie over the years). The tribute is poignant and heart-wrenching, as he explores the complex relationship with a man who, in all his human vulnerability, ultimately required Rakoff’s approval just as badly. Rakoff writes so acutely of the push-and-pull struggle for approval, the hunger that reveals itself to be quite insatiable, the games we humans play, the waters we test, only to discover we are insatiable. Rakoff writes of this challenge we do not want to win because we fear its results: “this confirmation that you have triumphed again and managed to gull yet another mark, except this time it was the one person you’d hoped might be immune to your ever-creakier, puddle-shallow, sideshow-barker variation on “adorable,” even though you’d been launching this campaign weekly with single-minded concentration from day one.”

Finally, but by no means least or remotely comprehensively, Rakoff writes of attending a Tibetan Buddhist retreat led by Steven Seagal in an essay also appearing in Fraud. Portraying this outlandish, over-the-top New Age-y, self-help ritual, Rakoff is at his most poetic: “Twenty years ago we would have been readers of Robert Persig. Now we own well-thumbed copies of The Jew in the Lotus. We’ve done yoga. We’ve been lactose intolerant.” His fresh, concise commentary, which easily disavows the usual stereotypes—while marrying the expected with the uncanny and cynical—is so slick, so layered, there’s something new and potent to unearth on every read.

Rakoff published three books of essays and contributed widely to anthologies, newspapers and magazines. He was a regular on the radio show This American Life. All Rakoff’s contributions to This American Life can be found here.

Jewish wines that are delicious and complex do exist

Passover has come and gone already this year, but if there’s one question that I get more than any other from my fellow Jews, it is this: “Why is kosher wine so bad?”

It could almost be added as the fifth question in the Passover haggadah.

Wine is a central part of Jewish culture. It is prayed over during the weekly Shabbat, drunk under the chuppa during the exchange of vows, and sipped with relish during many festivals. It would stand to reason that, given how much vino we are required to drink, Jews should probably make the best wine there is.

This is, very sadly, far from true.

Well, I am here to Let My People Go …or at least their palates. Kosher wine doesn’t have to taste like the remnants of a Smucker’s grape jelly jar. It can be drinkable and, yes, even delicious and complex.

The fundamental thing to know about kosher wine is that there are two basic types: mevushal, and non-mevushal.  It is usually the mevushal wines that have given kosher wine a bad name. The process of making a mevushal wine entails flash pasteurization. In a nutshell, due to the intricacies of rabbinic laws concerning kosher diet, any wine that is made and handled by a gentile (or a non-Sabbath-observant Jew), cannot be considered kosher. The wine, however, can be “purified” by boiling it. It only need boil for a split second, but boil it must. After that, it can be served by a gentile and still be considered kosher.

This would all be well and good if heat weren’t wine’s number one enemy. Raising the vino’s temperature to that point, even for a split second, drastically changes the flavor of the wine and robs it of most of its unique characteristics. Drink a little bit of this stuff, and your taste buds will feel as repressed as the protagonist of a Philip Roth novel.

Non-mevushal wines, however, are made completely by Sabbath-observant Jews. By doing this, there is no need to “purify” the wine. Strict kosher observant Jews will only allow other Sabbath-observing Jews to serve this wine to them, to avoid breaking kosher law. If you are serving this wine for a Jewish holiday, however, this will most likely not be an issue.

Making non-mevushal wine is much easier to do in Israel, where keeping kosher is not only a way of life, but the norm. And it just so happens that grapes have been grown and wine has been made in Israel for thousands of years.

One of my absolute favorite producers in Israel is Tishbi. Their Tishbi Cabernet Sauvignon / Petite Syrah, 2010 ($11.99 at Crush Wine & Spirits, 153 E. 57th St. btwn. Lexington and 3rd, 212-980-WINE), rivals any Cali-cab I’ve had in the same price range. It has tons of pipe tobacco and leather scents, with big, bold cherry fruit flavors, and the 30 percent Petite Syrah gives it a peppery finish.

If you’re looking for a bold kosher white wine that can hold its own, look no further than Golan Vineyards’ eponymous Golan Chardonnay, 2010 ($15.99 at Beacon Wines & Spirits, 2120 Broadway btwn. 74th and 75th Sts., 646-213-0776). This is a no-nonsense chardonnay with just enough spice, vanilla and tropical fruit flavors. For those who love the unctuous mouth-feel of Napa style chardonnay, you will absolutely fall in love with the flavor profile on this great white.

For something sweet and light to finish off any Jewish celebration, try Dalton’s Sweet Muscato, 2010 ($12.99 at www.hudsonvalleywinesandliquors.com). From the Galilee area of Israel, Dalton’s slightly fizzy Muscato shows that kosher wine can be sweet and interesting at the same time.  Ripe peach, tangerine and honey flavors are balanced by an effervescence that keeps the sweetness from being overbearing.

Above all, always make sure to check that the wine you are buying is a non-mevushal.  Many producers make both mevushal and non-mevushal versions of their products. While this is by no means an epicurean stamp of approval across the board, it will at least ensure that it hasn’t been boiled.

Now, if we can just do something about that gefilte fish.

Follow Josh on Twitter: @joshperilo.

But why would you put a deli in Tribeca, around the corner from the perennially wait-listing Locanda Verde and surrounded by a thousand other dimly lit Downtown hotspots, and why would you give it a birch-lined, soaring dining room with atomic-era brass light fixtures and soft white walls?

In Kutsher’s eyes, it all comes together. He is the heir to the Kutsher’s Country Club throne, the stalwart upstate summer resort/sleep away camp that was a haven for tristate Jews and non-Jews alike from its opening in 1907 to its heyday in the ’40s and ’50s and its nostalgic, elderly slide through the ’80s. He is truly to the manor born, though it wasn’t always clear he would end up assuming his crown. “There was no future in the industry” when he entered the workforce, he said. “I never wanted to get into it.”

Instead, Kutsher followed the now well-known millennial path of law school, corporate work, downsizing, re-evaluation, cooking school. But while most paths to the Institute of Culinary Education end up with a small business owner slinging cupcakes in South Williamsburg, Kutsher veered to hospitality, his genetic destiny.

“Over the years, I’d met so many people who had been to Kutsher’s. I’ve always been interested in food and its ability to speak to people, and this seemed like a way to tap into peoples’ emotional consciousness in a personally rewarding way,” he said.

Much has been written about the restaurant’s smart, amusing food at this point. The New York Times‘ Pete Wells likened it to Springtime for Hitler, the shock hit play-within-a-play in The Producers, and New York Magazine‘s Adam Platt labeled his astonishingly positive review “Building a Better Gefilte Fish.” Everybody had written off Jewish cooking, it seemed, except Kutsher himself and the restaurant’s chef, Mark Spangenfeld, who “has a lot of New York Times stars under his belt but is a nice Jewish boy from Great Neck.”

“We wanted to redefine, elevate and advance the cuisine,” he explained. That mantra informs the now-elegant disks of chopped wild halibut topped with microgreens in the aforementioned gefilte fish. You’re not going to forget that the Passover staple is what you’re eating, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the jellied balls floating in cloudy jars that roll out every year. Latkes come topped with three kinds of caviar, including a brightly sharp wasabi tobiko and a boldly salty salmon roe.

“We wanted to have fun with it,” Kutsher said. “You know, to call yourself farm-to-table- what does that mean? You can basically do whatever you want and call it American. We’ve given ourselves a challenge, real limitations to work within.”

Intelligently sourced ingredients is one key to the food’s success; it’s hard to mistreat the grilled Romanian skirt steak the way others do when you’re using prime meat—something no other restaurateurs bother to do for the much maligned cut. Mushrooms aren’t just brown flecks in gravy when they’re assorted wild varieties; they’re sautéed gently and featured prominently in the kreplach.

It’s all a resounding success with customers young and old, Kutsher’s regulars and goyim who’ve never heard of the place—save for one small, vocal contingent. “There are some people who, once you start making something they or their relatives make, you piss them off,” he laughed. “They feel the need to come up and tell you theirs is better.”

Still, on a Saturday night the restaurant is packed with families, couples on dates and groups of friends drinking from the well-curated cocktail list rife with housemade syrups and infused liquors, glossed up with names like the Bungalow Bunny and The Deep End.

“It’s like a bar mitzvah on steroids,” Kutsher said.

1. Involve Your Child—to a Degree

“Obviously, you maybe don’t let the child pick the exact camp, because they may pick it from the pretty picture in the brochure and not based on safety or some other issue,” said Jon Malinowski, Ph.D., camping author and expert. “But the worst thing a parent can do is to just choose a camp, decide that the child is going to camp and not involve the child in the process at all. It’s a recipe for a very unhappy, very homesick child.”

Christopher Thurber, Ph.D., camping author, said that even with children as young as five, parents can do research ahead of time then present a few options, any of which they’d be happy to follow through with. “You can make it collaborative at any age,” he says. “Just kind of tailor it to what is developmentally appropriate.”

Alternatively, consider bringing your child along when you shop for camping supplies, even for things as simple as a new toothbrush or pair of sneakers.

2. Accreditation

Many camp experts believe that accreditation is the first thing a parent should look for when evaluating camps. Unfortunately, this is not as cut-and-dried an issue as parents might wish. Just because a camp is accredited doesn’t mean it’s good, while a camp that lacks accreditation isn’t necessarily bad. And finding an accredited camp certainly doesn’t let a parent off the hook when it comes to doing additional research.

Accreditation is typically given by the American Camp Association (ACA). Two highly trained standards visitors, one of whom is often a camp director, tour the site for about a day, poking through cabins, prowling in the mess hall and scoping out the waterfront to make sure the camp meets the association’s approximately 300 safety and health standards. There’s also a thorough review of paperwork beforehand. (You can read more about the process at acacamps.org/accreditation.)

And don’t immediately dismiss camps that aren’t accredited, either, according to Malinowski.

“I know of some established camps that have been in business for a long time,” he said. “They do their own thing and don’t feel a need to be involved with the ACA.” It’s not uncommon for YMCA, Jewish and Christian fundamentalist camps to pass on accreditation, he explained. The bottom line, though, is that if a camp isn’t accredited, parents should ask why.

3. Are People Sticking Around?

Accredited or not, parents should try to find out if people are coming back. That goes for the director, staff and campers.

A camp that attracts directors who stay for a long time is probably stable, has a consistent vision and is generally a fun place to be. But don’t just ask how long the current director has been around, says Thurber—the current director might be a relative newcomer. Instead, ask what the average tenure for directors has been in the life of the camp.

Also ask about return rates. No camp will have all at its staff or campers return the following year, since many become too old for the program. But a 70 to 80 percent return rate is “fabulous,” according to Thurber.

If between 50 and 70 percent of campers and staff return, that’s “very good.” But if less than half of eligible campers and staff are choosing to return, it could indicate problems with the camp’s quality.

A caveat: Specialty programs may have lower return rates by nature.

4. Meet and Greet

We know you’re busy, but once you’ve narrowed down a short list, be sure to visit camps or at the very least meet the director. Many camps offer rookie days or weekends for prospective campers, according to Joanne Paltrowitz, founder of the advisory service Camp Experts. A visit also lets a parent see firsthand that the waterfront is safe (can you easily identify who’s in charge?), the grounds are well kept (is there broken glass underfoot or tools laying around?) and the bunks meet fire codes (are there fire alarms and fire extinguishers?).

5. Be Honest About Your Child

Your kid is obviously better than everyone else’s. But try, when you’re chatting with the director, to give the full picture.

“Tell [directors] not who you want your child to be, but who your child really is,” said Flax.

Believe it or not, a director will tell you if your child won’t fit in, Flax says.

An honest assessment of your child’s personality will also help the director decide on counselors and bunk placement. Honesty means being frank about your child’s interests and talents as well.

By Megan McGibney

It is said the world’s three greatest cuisines are French, Chinese and Turkish. While Downtown has plenty of the first two, it could use more of the latter.

Luckily, Soho is set to get a Turkish eatery of its very own Nov. 15, when the Midtown hotspot Pera Mediterranean Brasserie opens its Downtown version: Pera SoHo. The award-winning restaurant known for its elegant décor and softly lit dining rooms intends to provide this fashion-centric district with some of Turkey’s finest cultural dishes.

“I think it’s proven to be a great concept,” said owner Burak Karacam of his eateries. “Whether it’s the décor or the music that’s soft to people’s ears, it’s a very refreshing take on eastern Mediterranean and Turkish cuisine.”

Karacam hails from the country’s capitol, and the restaurants derive their name from one of Istanbul’s more eclectic neighborhoods. Since the 17th century, the place has been home to many non-Islamic cultures, including Italian, Greek, Jewish, Armenian and French. It was in Pera that these groups resided and set up their businesses, and it is at Karacam’s restaurants that a blend of eastern Mediterranean cuisine comes to life.

Pera’s menu mainly consists of Mediterranean staples like olive oil, zucchini, eggplant, beans, seafood and lamb. Dessert fans may mourn the lack of cake, but will rejoice at Pera’s selection of puddings and baklava.

Pera SoHo,designed by DYAMI architects with décor overseen by Karacam himself, will include a lounge area up front with a doorway leading to a garden, which will be open to patrons beginning in April. In addition, during the warmer months, private parties can go to the rooftop and watch the sun set before going downstairs to sup in a dining room that can seat 105. Karacam chose 54 Thompson Pl. for Pera SoHo because of the lack of neighboring tall buildings and the chance to be on the cutting edge of dining habits.

“I think Soho is making a comeback in terms of dining,” he said.

When it comes to making Pera SoHo different from its Midtown relative, Karacam is contemplating whether to make a quarter or a third of its menu different. The Downtown kitchen will be headed by the Turkish/American duo of Metin Calisir and Nathan Crouser.

As for the possibility of more Peras, Karacam said, “It’s not something we are against, but currently the focus is on getting this one up and running and reaching its potential.” After that, Karacam will look around for a new place for New Yorkers to experience one of the world’s greatest cuisines.

Istanbul native Burak Karacam in front of his yet to be opened Pera SoHo. phOTO BY Megan McGibney. Pera’s Downtown location will be similar to its uptown haunt, located on Madison Avenue. PHOTO courtsey of Pera Mediterranean Brasserie