Since childhood, I have been cursed with an abnormal and to some, heretical dislike.
I don't like honey.
This made things complicated in grade school, as classmates would gasp and morahs would swoon as I politely declined to partake of bee vomit (technically, that's what honey is). I spend my High Holy Days a lonely outsider, watching others ritualistically dip and chuckle and lick fingertips.
But this year, it came to me; an alternate to honey, a way to reclaim my reputation as a participant of timeless Jewish tradition.
I shall dip my apple . . . in maple syrup.
Not the Aunt Jemimah watered-down stuff; Grade A, Costco issue, pristine maple syrup.
Whatever sweetener you enjoy, whether it be honey, evaporated cane juice, agave, or blackstrap molasses, I wish to all and sundry, A Sweet Year.