It’s happening again.
Three weeks before Rosh Hashanah, my inbox, analytics and fragile peace of mind have once again been overrun by honey cake. Back in 2022, I confessed to the St. Louis Jewish community that I couldn’t stand the stuff. In 2023, I noticed my old column suddenly spiking in search traffic, so I wrote about it again. The same thing happened in 2024 — though I decided to give everyone (and myself) a break. But now it’s 2025, and here we are again. Honey cake season has arrived early, whether I like it or not.
So, fine. I surrender. You win. This year, I’m not just acknowledging the dominance of honey cake — I’m joining the resistance on the other side. And not only that, I’m going to tell you exactly where to bake it, bag it and spread it all around. And yes, it’s actually for a very good cause.
The honey cake offensive
The folks at Women’s Philanthropy have teamed up with Jewish Family Service’s Older Adult Services and the Adult Day at the Jewish Community Center’s IN Program to launch a two-day, honey-cake-fueled operation aimed at making Rosh Hashanah sweeter for members of our community who might otherwise feel forgotten.
Here’s the mission briefing:
- Mon., Sept. 15 — 10:30 a.m.
Bake honey cakes. Lots of them. - Tue., Sept. 16 — 6 p.m.
Assemble holiday care packages, complete with those freshly baked cakes. - Starting Wed., Sept. 17
Volunteers deliver care packages to homebound individuals and residents in care facilities.
These aren’t just baked goods; they’re little packages of connection, delivered straight to someone’s doorstep — the kind that says, “You’re not alone for the holidays.”
You can learn more and register here.
Joining the honey cake army
To make my surrender official, I called Lauren Murov, one of the event chairs to let her know that after years of resistance, I’m finally switching sides.
Murov didn’t hesitate to welcome me:
“We’re happy to have honey cake lovers and haters alike! Personally, I prefer a cinnamon apple cake for Rosh Hashanah, but it’s too complicated to make in bulk. I’m happy to share the recipe — it’s from an old synagogue cookbook my husband’s grandmother gave me.”
More than just cake
I asked Murov why honey cake had become the centerpiece of an effort that’s really about something much bigger than baking.
“Jewish holidays are always about tradition, nostalgia and togetherness,” she said. “The honey cakes symbolize our collective wish for a year filled with sweetness, goodness and prosperity.”
But for Women’s Philanthropy, this it isn’t just about the cakes, it’s about what happens around them. The event brings people together to launch the High Holidays with purpose and connection.
“This event lets us come together as a community,” she explained, “and it also connects us with two important groups: participants at the J’s Adult Day Care, who bake the cakes with us, and elderly community members who may be homebound.”
After baking the honey cakes, the team of volunteers assembles what is called “bags of love,” filled with honey cakes, treats and other comforting essentials — and volunteers deliver them to brighten someone’s Rosh Hashanah.
Even if you hate it
Finally, I asked Murov what she’d say to someone like me, who still isn’t convinced honey cake deserves all the hype.
“We’d love to have you join us — baking, packing or delivering — even if you’re a honey cake hater like Jordan. It’s a meaningful, feel-good way to start the new year and brighten someone’s day.”
And there it is. I’ve lost the war. The honey cake lobby has not only converted me into a foot soldier, they’ve turned this story into a recruitment tool. And, yes, I’ll be there help them pack up all the honey cake they’ve made, and I will not even sneak a slice.
Who you’re helping
Through JFS’s Older Adult Services, case managers work with seniors to help them age in place, access resources and stay connected. For many homebound community members, these holiday care packages might be their only tangible reminder that they’re part of something larger than their living room walls.
The Adult Day at the J’s IN Program is also in the mix, giving young adults with developmental disabilities the opportunity to assemble the bags, build skills and play a meaningful role in brightening someone’s holiday.
So yes — honey cake is winning hearts, one slice at a time and this year, I can’t even be mad about it.
Closing: an olive branch to the honey cake lobby
I still don’t love honey cake. I probably never will. But if there’s one thing this annual saga has taught me, it’s that the cake isn’t really the point. It’s about memory, nostalgia and — this year — community.