The Providential Story Behind Banff’s Mobile Kosher Kitchen

by Uziel Scheiner – chabad.org

A kosher kitchen has arrived in the Canadian town of Banff, Alberta. The $200,000 project brings for the first time a full-scale commercial-grade kosher kitchen to one of North America’s premier resort towns and tourist destinations. And the whole thing is on wheels.

After two decades of serving the Jewish community of Edmonton, Alberta, Rabbi Dovid Pinson, his wife Devorah and their five children moved to the Banff region this past fall to open Chabad-Lubavitch of the Canadian Rockies. Banff is defined by its imposing snow-covered mountains looming over an idyllic landscape which, with its stunning slopes, hikes and parks, crystalline rivers and steaming hot springs, make it the destination of choice for around 5 million tourists annually.

From the beginning, the Pinsons made making kosher food more accessible for locals and visitors to the pristine region one of their priorities. The answer came in the form of Chabad’s new mobile kosher kitchen, a story of Divine providence and the power of what is possible when determined and faithful people join in the effort of a noble cause.

A Prayer, a Promise and a Perfect Match

When Howard Moster arrived in 2017 at the Ohel, the resting place of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—in Queens, N.Y., he came with a heavy heart and failing kidneys. The Edmonton transplant, formerly a police detective in Cincinnati, Ohio, had for years been able to work around his underlying medical condition.

Indeed, his years in law enforcement and then running his own private security firm had been defined by physical vigor. Besides barbecuing large cooking events, Moster’s primary hobby was construction; he would habitually renovate people’s homes and even built himself a cabin in Maine from scratch.

But the truth was that Moster had for years been battling polycystic kidney disease, a genetic ailment which disrupts kidney function and can lead to failure. Eventually, Moster placed himself on the transplant list, and began the grueling and indefinite wait for a cadaver kidney.

Rabbi Dovid Pinson, at the time youth director at Chabad of Edmonton, accompanied Moster to the Ohel. Standing at the Rebbe’s graveside, Moster made a promise to himself: If G‑d helped him find a kidney, he would dedicate himself to a major project for his Jewish community.

Returning to Edmonton, Moster continued his wait. Pinson, however, got to work. One way to bypass the transplant list is through securing a gift from a living donor.

Using his extensive contacts and the network that comes with being a rabbi in a large Jewish community, Pinson began to source for a matching kidney donor. Without even knowing for whom the rabbi was searching, a number of people in the community put themselves forward and quietly undertook the process of determining whether they were suitable donors.

With each one there was a different issue. Some were too old, others with a disqualifying pre-existing condition, more still with incompatible blood types and present disconsonant antibodies.

That’s when Rabbi Mendy Blachman, one of Pinson’s colleagues at Chabad of Edmonton, decided to throw his name into the mix. He, too, did not know who Pinson’s intended recipient was. Only after he agreed to undergo compatibility testing did Pinson fill him in.

Blachman went for testing. The results were astonishing and conclusive: He was a near-perfect match—to the point where Moster’s doctor asked him, “Are you sure you guys aren’t related? Because to be a closer match you would have to be brothers.”

‘Thank You for Giving Me the Opportunity’

The rabbis’ immediate priority was to keep Blachman’s identity as Moster’s donor completely confidential. They knew that Moster knowing his donor was someone close to him—one of his rabbis, no less—would likely make him uneasy. He had already turned down a donation offer from a matching young woman because she was of childbearing age and going through pregnancy with one kidney can pose complications. Blachman was a full-time rabbi with responsibilities to an entire community and the young father of five children under the age of 9.

“There were many concerns about what accepting the rabbi’s kidney would mean,” said Moster. But without the knowledge of who his donor was, relieved and grateful, he began to prepare for the transplant.

And so, Moster and Blachman began the multi-legged process of transplanting a kidney. The ordeal consists of a number of tests and check-ups before the actual operation, requiring both men to make regular visits to the hospital in preparation for the procedure. With confidentiality being the highest priority, a careful schedule was implemented to ensure that Moster and Blachman didn’t run into each other in the course of their many hospital visits.

At one point, a scheduling mishap threatened to derail the entire procedure. Moster went in for a routine check-up, and Blachman was scheduled to go in the same day shortly after with enough time so the two wouldn’t meet. But a delay held up Moster’s appointment, and when he finally made it out of the examination room he bumped into the rabbi laying tefillin with a Jewish man in the waiting room.

Immediately, Moster knew. With his rabbi—and kidney donor—standing in front of him, a wave of emotions overcame him. A few weeks later, Howard Moster and Rabbi Mendy Blachman were wheeled into the operating rooms to undergo the transplant. Hours later, the surgery was complete, and days later, Rabbi Blachman, paid a visit to recovering Moster in his hospital room. The men embraced, and Blachman brought out a pair of tefillin which he helped Moster put on. Before leaving, Moster again thanked Blachman for saving his life. Blachman turned to Moster and said, “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do such a great mitzvah!”

The New Kitchen Takes Shape

In the aftermath of the transplant, Moster and Pinson began to think about ways that Moster could fulfill his desire to give back to the community in gratitude to G‑d. The fact that he found the needed organ right after his visit to the Ohel and that of all the people in the world, his perfectly matched donor was one of his Chabad rabbis, shined as an unmistakable sign from G‑d. “It was clear that the Rebbe played a large role in me finding a kidney,” said Moster.

Thinking about the needs of the Alberta Jewish community, they soon had an idea. The general Alberta community had a dearth of kosher options and with scores of tourists frequenting the area, a sustainable kosher destination was a considerable need.

“The idea was born for a mobile kosher kitchen,” Pinson said. “We envisioned a commercial-grade kosher kitchen that can be pulled up to any event, resort, or space and can immediately provide a full kosher experience to everyone in attendance.”

With Moster’s aptitude for construction, his background in government which would allow him to help navigate available funds and grants, and his passion for cooking large festivals and bringing great food to large groups of people, the project, much like his new kidney, was the perfect match.

The biggest hurdle to clear with the mobile kosher kitchen was funding. With an estimated total project cost of $200,000, getting enough money to realize the project was a concern for Pinson. Procuring the initial seed money to get the project off the ground became a priority.

It came in the form of another family who, in the aftermath of their own tragedy, wanted to dedicate something meaningful to the community in memory of their loved one.

Daniel Weig was an active teenage boy in the Edmonton community. His parents, Yehudah and Ilana, raised three children in Edmonton. Daniel was the oldest. Besides being a studious kid who excelled in school, Daniel volunteered in local summer camps as a lifeguard and guide, teaching children outdoors skills and first-aid.

On his 19th birthday, Daniel tragically took his own life. His family struggled to reconcile his death and, in the wake of unfathomable tragedy, tried to find a constructive way to memorialize Daniel’s life.

They approached Rabbi Pinson for ideas. Among other ideas, Pinson mentioned the mobile kosher kitchen. The Weigs were intrigued. Besides the original nature of the project, the idea spoke to them because of how it aligned with Daniel’s own life.

Daniel’s many summers volunteering at a Jewish summer camp in Edmonton had led to an observation. “Every summer the kids would come back skinnier than they left,” Yehudah Weig said. “There aren’t many kosher options in Alberta. Bringing a kosher kitchen that can be used to fill the kosher needs of the community would be a great addition.”

The Weigs donated towards the project, including proceeds from selling Daniel’s car, and held a fundraiser. Soon they’d managed to put together the first block of funds to get the mobile kosher kitchen started.

‘Everyone Helps in Their Way’

Nearly six years later—after raising funds, securing grants, losing grants, taking loans, raising even more money, laboriously installing industrial appliances, and a global pandemic—Banff’s mobile kosher kitchen is finally ready.

The 36-foot rig holds a barbecue deck and grill; two gas ovens with six burners; a charbroiler, griddle, full stand-up fridge and freezer; 50-pound deep fryers; and soon, a Traeger smoker. It also has a full service tables and drainage boards; two large sinks; shelves; a heated water and fresh water tank; onboard propane of up to 200 pounds; and a 10,500-watt generator, which means the kitchen can “be rolled into the middle of the desert and feed 200 people,” says Rabbi Pinson.

Moster sees the kitchen as not only a useful convenience to the Jewish community, but a vehicle of increased spiritually and goodness for the whole Canadian Rockies.

“Everyone helps in their way,” Moster said. “The rabbis have their job with helping people do mitzvahs and I’m helping in my way. They say, ‘feed ’em, and they will come.’ This kitchen will allow us to make great events for the community, which will increase involvement from people that might not have made it over otherwise.”

To Pinson, Moster, the Weig family and the entire Banff Jewish community, the new mobile kitchen represents more than just kosher food. It’s an innovative solution to fill the precise needs of an irregular Jewish community and, hopefully, be a vehicle to raise the spiritual profile of an entire province.