The challenge of keeping China kosher

Keeping kosher is a breeze back home in Jerusalem, but it's a daily challenge here in China, where food is practically a religion and people say they'll eat anything with four legs -- except for the table. It means Grunberg can't travel light on his monthly trips through China: He carries two or three suitcases packed with dry goods, canned meats and vacuum-sealed packets, so he can feed himself breakfast, lunch and dinner. That way, he never has to step into a Chinese restaurant where about the only thing he can order is a fruit plate and can of Coke.

Although many here have never heard the word "kosher," China is now the world's fastest-growing producer of kosher-certified food, with more than 500 Chinese factories producing the approved products. That number is expected to soar, not because this country that is still officially atheist has embraced Judaism, but because it's good for business.

"I used to get this puzzled look, 'What is kosher?' " said Grunberg, 54, a field inspector for the New York-based Orthodox Union, which is responsible for certifying more than 300 plants in China. "Now a lot of people know it as a marketing tool to increase their market share, especially in the United States."

The largest kosher market in the world is the U.S., where a growing number of the consumers are non-Jews who see kosher-certified food as generally safer and healthier.

That's important in China, which is trying to recover from the recent spate of tainted-food scandals. Eager to regain consumer trust, the "Made in China" label has found an unexpected ally in the once-obscure kosher symbol.

"People have been looking for some other measure of security for products coming out of China," said Rabbi Shimon Freundlich, one of a handful of Beijing-based independent kosher field inspectors. "They want to see quality control, and kosher is a standard people know."

As China in recent years has become a factory for the world, practically anything can be made here at a bargain. The unlikely kosher business flourished simply because of supply and demand: The global appetite for kosher products exploded and China is happy to feed the frenzy.

But even after the Chinese learned basic kosher rules -- no pork, no shellfish, no fish without fins or scales -- misunderstandings remain.

As the calls poured in from Chinese companies looking for kosher approval, Freundlich recalls explaining why he couldn't certify a toy maker that produced plastic food.

"They sent me samples of fake apples, fake vegetables," Freundlich said. "They were right about the food aspect. They didn't know we don't do wooden toys or plastic toys."

Then there was the guy who makes dining room tables.

"Since food goes on the table he thought we needed a kosher table," Freundlich said. "Of course, every table is kosher."

It's even hard for many Chinese to grasp the meaning of "rabbi."

"Sometimes they call me 'rabbit,' " Grunberg said. "I start hopping. They don't get it. I let it pass. It doesn't pay to explain."

In the frigid Chinese winter, Grunberg, a grandfather of five, keeps his white beard relatively short and covers his head with a wool hat. He keeps his yarmulke in his pocket and puts it on only when the room is warm enough. The Israeli resident has long given up on wearing his wide-brimmed black hat when traveling across China. "They get squashed," he said, during the extended transits by plane, bus and train.

It's harder for Freundlich, 34, to blend in. His black beard is much longer and bushier, and some Chinese he meets can't resist tugging at it with their fingers.

"They used to call me Santa Claus," said Freundlich, who moved to Beijing with his family in 2001 to start a Jewish community center. Then came the Sept. 11 attacks. "They started calling me Bin Laden, which is unfortunate."

But they don't mean any harm by it, he said. For the most part, rabbis are treated with respect, even if the Chinese know very little about the Jewish people and their religion.