When Micah Siva's face appears on my computer screen, my first thought, which I keep to myself, is how much we look alike. She's accompanied by an uninvited guest: her AI notetaker, which she confesses she doesn't know how to dismiss. The notetaker would later send me extremely well organized notes that proved useful in piecing together this story.

There's a candor to Micah that's immediately disarming. She's as comfortable discussing the economics of book tours as she is her two-year-old son’s obsession with wine. It's this authenticity that has made her one of the most compelling voices in modern Jewish food, even if the path there wasn't exactly linear.

"I started my career really as a dietitian," Micah explains. "I had gone to culinary school, then went back to school to become a dietitian. And then my husband and I were moving around a lot, and I realized I hate counseling people. Everyone wants a meal plan and that was so annoying to me."

It's a refreshingly honest admission from someone who has built a career on making food accessible and joyful. After working as BuzzFeed's culinary lead for branded content in the UK, Micah moved to the US in 2020 and by January of ‘21, made a pivotal decision: to focus her platform exclusively on Jewish vegetarian food.

The timing couldn't have been more prescient. "I saw a rise in anti-Semitism that made me feel uncomfortable," she recalls. "Little did we know it would turn into what it is today. So I decided to switch a lot of my work to Jewish food because I had a small platform but still felt like that's what I was most passionate about."

That passion manifested not just in recipes and a critically acclaimed cookbook, but in something more tangible: a women's Shabbat club. Co-founded with Dara Katz of Mamaleh jewelry after both moved to Chicago, the club emerged from a shared frustration with existing models. "I go to New York a lot for work, and I've interacted with some of the people who host them, and they're so, like, exclusive. You have to apply," Micah says, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I've never gotten my application accepted to go to a Shabbat club in New York, which I think is absolutely bonkers."

Her solution? A women's Shabbat club hosted in someone’s home.

The model is deliberately accessible. All ticket proceeds go to the host's charity of choice. There are no applications, no Instagram follower requirements, no exclusivity—just women gathering around a table. "Do you like Jews? You can come," Micah laughs. "Shabbat is meant to be where we open the table to strangers, and that is the biggest mitzvah we can do."

Behind the Instagram-worthy challah loaves and beautifully styled tables lies a more complex economic reality. When I ask about making a living in the Jewish content space, Micah doesn't sugarcoat it.

"I make more than I ever did as a dietitian... because I'm hustling, and I do 10,000 different things in a given day. I would not feel comfortable doing what I do now if I didn't have a partner with a stable job."

Currently, 50% of her time goes to Jewish content creation, but it represents only 30% of her income. The rest comes from brand partnerships and recipe development—work she's less passionate about but that pays the bills. "The Jewish stuff is so much more fulfilling," she says. "I taught people how to make rugelach and hamantaschen on Sunday. That's fun. Did I have to clean a kitchen for two hours? Yeah. But it was still fun."

When I ask about her own Shabbat tablescape and the judaica she cherishes most, she holds one up to the camera that she made. I take a screenshot.

"My favorite challah cover is like one that my son and I stamped fruit on because it cost me $1. And it's going to get dirty. Whenever I see all these beautiful, really vibey ones, I'm like, I could spend $400 on that or put that toward daycare."

Preach sister.

Her candlesticks? Brass ones from her late grandmother's house that nobody else wanted. Her dishes? A mismatched collection. "I don't have eight dishes of all the same plates," she explains. "I have ones that look good enough together. Because at the end of the day, if the food is good and people around you are nice, no one's like, ‘why is my plate different than yours?’"

With a two-year-old, her Shabbat practice is equally pragmatic. "We don't wait for stars. We don't wait for a sunset. We wait for dinner time," she says. "Does he eat half a challah before we even said a blessing? 100%." They prep their son to get him excited on Thursday nights, make challah dough together Friday mornings, and maintain one constant ritual: sharing five things they're grateful for each week.

Even when traveling, they bring battery-operated tea lights. When they go out for pizza on Friday nights, "we pretend our pizzas are challah. Or if we get Indian takeout, our naan bread is our challah."

Micah's cooking philosophy mirrors her approach to hospitality. "I don't necessarily have a main and a side and a salad. I usually do more like mezze style dishes. I might have four or five smaller dishes that people can kind of graze through," she explains. Recent favorites include smoky mushrooms and white beans atop creamy polenta, a dish hearty enough for Chicago winters.

But really, "Shabbat is kind of a fridge clean out," she admits. "I'm able to look at my fridge and say, okay, these things all need to get used up. Let's have fun with these ingredients."

When she and her husband first moved to Chicago, they hosted someone for Shabbat almost every Friday for six months. Neighbors, coworkers, people they met at restaurants. "It's been such a nice way to connect and feel like there's more of a sense of purpose.”

As we wrap our conversation, I can feel my eyebrows rise in amazement as Micah runs me through the year ahead, all with a two year old. She's working on another book proposal, this one focused entirely on opening your home and Shabbat. She's teaching cooking classes across the country, from Chicago suburbs to potential stops in Atlanta and beyond. I prod her about a collab here in Dallas, which she’s game for.

For those who, like this newsletter’s author, are inspired to follow a similar path, her advice is both pragmatic and hopeful: diversify your income streams, prepare for investment years, and remember that building community is its own form of wealth. "We can only all do better if people want to spend more money on Jewish businesses and people.”

Amen.

For upcoming events follow Micah on Instagram or visit her Substack. Her cookbook and children's book are available wherever books are sold.

On my nightstand is a copy of Matzo Ball Gumbo by Marcie Cohen Ferris which I peruse for inspiration maybe once every other week. As a Southern Jew, I spend a good bit of time looking for ways to incorporate both the familiar tastes of the Ashkenazi cooking I grew up eating and the hit-the-spot flavors of Southern food I fell in love with outside of my parents’ home.

As I was researching Micah’s career ahead of our interview, one of her recipes stopped me in my tracks: cornbread challah.

What a brilliant idea. With her blessing, I’ve shared her recipe below. I plan to make it tomorrow night myself!

Preparation:

Want more delicious recipes from Micah? Click here.

Lastly, and I’m not sure if these technically count as Judaica - but how great are these Seinfeld kiddo pajamas by Posh Peanut?

Hard not to smile when you see these and we could all use one more reason to smile after a week like this one.

Wishing you an early shabbat shalom.