The [modern-day] Gift of the Magi

We all had to read the classic O. Henry short story about gift giving/receiving when we were in grade school.  It's a heartwarming tale about two people who love each other enough to sacrifice a prized possession and give each other the perfect gift.

Hair is cut... watches are sold.  Wackiness ensues. [Now that's how you post a spoiler!]

Anyway, this past week saw the consummation of a similarly heartwarming exchange of gifts between two people who, while not exactly in love, at least hold each other in fairly high esteem.

Some of you may remember that last year a certain prolific LA blogger and I laid an ill-conceived wager on whose baseball team would finish the regular season with the best record.   I stood to lose a kilo of Jerusalem's famous Marzipan Rugalach... and he was putting a similar measure of Los Angeles' famous Jeff's Kosher Gourmet Sausages at risk.

In the unlikely (unthinkable!) event that our teams ended the season in a statistical tie we agreed that we would both have to pay the bet.

Long story short, he picked the Angels and I chose the Red Sox... and these two teams went on to end the regular season in a statistical tie.

Remember for a moment that both sides of the 'Action' on this bet were fairly perishable foodstuffs... and the 'players' who now had to pay off the bet were half a world away from one another. 

This presented some rather impressive logistical challenges.

Enter 'the runner'... a mild-mannered, unassuming CPA (who also just happens to be a good friend and neighbor of mine).  He lives and works here in Israel, but for a few weeks each year he flies to California to do some work for an LA accounting firm. 

And he had a trip planned for December.

This presented a nice window of opportunity for two motivated omnivores dear friends to be able to finally consummate their wager.  That this dénouement would occur during the holiday season only serves to enhance the heartwarming aspect of our tale, no?

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago our Super Hero CPA was met with a warm box of Rugalach as he was leaving for the airport.  He tucked the box in his carry-on with vague promises not to filch too many during the flight.  A day later I received word from the other side of the planet (via AL Gore's most impressive invention), that the chocolaty pastries had been received.

A couple of days ago our Super Hero CPA called to tell me he had just landed and was in possession of a nice parcel of Chicken Cilantro and Chicken Apple flavoured gourmet sausages.  [*drool*] We supplemented the ensuing grill-fest with some nice local lamb-kabobs and didn't stop until the plates were empty and every greasy finger had been carefully licked clean.

There now... wasn't that a nice holiday story

OK, so maybe my story doesn't really contain any of the heartwarming self-sacrifice stuff found in 'The Gift of the Magi'.  But it does have a couple of the O. Henry story's elements; seemingly insurmountable obstacles... the desire to give the perfect gift... oh who am I kidding?  It was a stupid sports bet between a couple of hack writers with a bad case of the munchies.

I know it's a reach, but I used to drink the occasional pint of ale in the very pub (Pete's Tavern) in NYC's Grammarcy Park where O. Henry actually wrote 'The Gift of the Magi'.  That's gotta count for something... right?