On the way back from buying my challos last Friday afternoon, I saw two vignettes that made me realise why I love living here. Of course, I would prefer to be in Israel, but failing that, this is about as good as it comes in England.I popped into the greengrocers for a couple of things. A Jewish lady with a foreign accent was asking the Indian greengrocer where some of the produce came from. He told her that all the Israeli produce was labelled as such and showed her the sign on the grapefruit. She replied, “But grapefruit aren’t a problem yet [for shemitta]” “I know that,” replied the greengrocer, “but we have to label everything.” Where else will you find a Hindu who is familiar with the laws of shemitta? A couple of shops further down is a kosher baker. As I walked past, a young man was coming out with a slice of pizza. He was heavily pierced – the sort of person one would normally avoid in the street – but not only was he eating kosher pizza, but as he walked out of the door, he kissed the mezuzah!