“Trust Me, It’s Kosher!” The Truth Behind Restaurant Certifications

Businesses with active Facebook pages are common these days. But when was the last time you saw a business consulting its customers about a major business decision directly on such a platform?

Two weeks ago, I stumbled upon just such a situation. A Jerusalem business owner posted this on Facebook: "Dear friends, we need your input! We are facing a dilemma and would love your sincere opinions".

It turned out this complex issue was about the kosher certification of his business. For years, the place boasted a certificate from the Jerusalem Rabbinate. Now, he was revealing the truth: the supervision was, as he put it, worthless. "The supervision by the Rabbinate was only nominal. The supervisor would come to collect a check, maybe stay for some social time once a month, but not to supervise. Everything is kosher here - because our staff cares about kosher standards, not because we have a certificate hanging on the wall," wrote the business owner.

If you thought he was considering switching to supervision by a more rigorous kashrut organization, you’d be mistaken. What he was really pondering was dropping kosher supervisors altogether. "Upon moving to a new location, the Rabbinate decided to update their demands too – announcing our supervision fees would increase. Why? Because our kitchen staff wears chef uniforms (what's the connection to kosher?), and because Leon, our amazing new partner, is now involved. And as the Rabbinate inspector put it, "At the current rate, we can't trust him because he's Russian".

The owner was quick to stress that he had no interest in battling the Rabbinate. Far from it. He only wanted to know what customers truly desired. Did they really need the certificate he just criticized, or would they trust the word of a nice guy like him affirming his business’s kosher standing?

Unsurprisingly, the post attracted a flurry of comments from those critical of the Rabbinate. Some complained about the audacity of the supervisors demanding money, others criticized the owner’s previous insistence on needing a certificate, and quite a few encouraged, "Open on Shabbat, we’ll come!" The owner, to his credit, clarified that Shabbat is reserved for family and his place would always be closed then. Yet his doubts about kosher certification persisted, especially when a quick journalist turned it into a story on a local website. Corrupt supervisors and ridiculous kashrut demands? Perfect ingredients for a juicy exposé.

However, the owner’s luck ran out when among the commenters was someone who had served as a spokesperson for the Rabbinate. Initially, his comment was general: "During my time working there, I heard many complaints about various Rabbinates, including Jerusalem. The complaints you mention are not unlike things I’ve heard before.The common factor in all cases where a business owner complained about local rabbinate suddenly placing arbitrary, costly demands on them - incidents of which there were hundreds - was that something at the business warranted stricter requirements: a menu change, kitchen staff changes (trust is crucial, not just practical), or, more often, a significant kashrut violation was discovered".

Further, the commenter highlighted the core issue with the Jerusalem Rabbinate: the new partner also owned a non-kosher business, leading to fears he might transfer non-kosher ingredients between his establishments, necessitating stricter oversight. Moreover, he was also bringing alcoholic beverages onto the premises. Mentioning these points sparked a heated discussion about the prohibition against drinking wine opened by a non-Shabbat observer – a kashrut rule unfamiliar to many Israelis.

These revelations didn't change the owner’s determination to cut kashrut costs. He posted again, thanking everyone for their input and announcing his decision to adopt a 'private kashrut' service, expecting future customers to trust him as a kosher business manager.

So There’s a Worm in the Cake, Big Deal!

Despite respecting the owner’s commitment to Shabbat and his warm kosher assurances, most observant Jews will likely stop patronizing his business. From his writings, it’s evident he understands this – he just doesn’t understand why. Why do people trust a kosher certificate more than his word?

I once witnessed a discussion among secular women who were upset that observant Jews refused to eat in their homes despite their claims of following kosher laws. How did they keep kosher? By separating meat and dairy, and buying only products with kosher certification. Why weren't they trusted? After expressing frustration at the religious folks' paranoia, they were asked simple questions by an older religious woman. Their answers soon revealed that two of them never sifted flour ("So there'll be one worm in the cake, big deal! It's not pork"), one had never heard of bug-free produce, and not one knew that cutting an onion with a meat knife renders it "meaty".

Kosher laws are complex. Sure, running a private kitchen is easier than a business kitchen, but it still requires considerable knowledge. How can you rely on the kosher food from someone who doesn’t know consuming a worm is worse biblically than consuming pork? How can one eat at a home where they think keeping separate dishware for meat and dairy and not cooking them in the same pot is the be-all and end-all of kosher laws?

In business settings, issues are often exponentially more serious. As the former spokesperson pointed out, most are unaware that if wine is opened by a Jew who doesn't observe Shabbat, it renders the wine non-kosher. But that's the law. And a business owner who doesn’t know it – compromises his customers, even if he’s convinced he’s "completely kosher".

A famous Jewish joke tells of a devout Jew entering a restaurant only to find the kashrut certification expired. "Don’t you trust me?" the seller protests, pointing at an image of a revered rabbi on the wall. "Look who my grandfather was!" The potential customer sighs and responds, "I’d be calmer if your picture was on the wall and your grandfather was standing here selling..."

In our generation, great Torah scholars typically don't manage restaurants and cafes. In their absence, genuine love for Judaism and Shabbat observance are no substitutes for kosher certification. Even if we gave the seller a lie detector test and wholeheartedly believed he wasn’t motivated by business interests - even that wouldn’t suffice. Because to demand, 'Trust me, it’s kosher,' we first need to trust that the nice seller knows exactly what is kosher – and what isn’t.