It's not unusual to find a latke recipe in a book. But it's highly uncommon to see potato pancakes in a book about American football.
For siblings Geoff and Mitch Schwartz, though, the pairing makes perfect sense. The duo - the first Jewish siblings since 1923 to play in the National Football League at the same time – just released Eat My Schwartz a joint autobiography that's equal parts self-portrait, pop-spiritual meditation, and cookbook.
Written with journalist Seth Kaufman, the breezy tome delves deep into the brothers' Conservative Jewish upbringing, their parents' central role in their lives and careers, and their passionate love of Ashkenazi cuisine.
With its rosy tone and 20-page recipe section, Eat My Schwartz may disappoint thrill-seekers who expect a tell-all memoir of substance-fuelled debauchery.
"I think there's that stereotype, but probably more people don't fit into it than people would imagine," Mitch Schwartz tells the JC from his home in Kansas City, Missouri, where he's an offensive tackle for the city's Chiefs pro team.
"We never succumbed to that kind of peer pressure. It wasn't a conscious decision; it's just who we are."
The seed for a book was planted by Mitch and Geoff's father, Lee, who learned his boys were the first Jewish brothers to play professional football simultaneously in nearly a century. "My dad came up with the idea," Mitch says. "He thought it was a great story." Lee is a consultant to manufacturers in Southern California; mother Olivia is a lawyer.
The story Lee unearthed is intriguing. Ralph and Arnold Horween, Jewish brothers from Chicago, started playing pro football in 1923, renaming themselves the McMahon brothers. "They were major stars," Mitch writes in Eat My Schwartz. "Since the family name had been changed from Horowitz when they first arrived in the United States, you have to wonder what was going on there. Was football looked down upon? Was their family ashamed? Or were they concerned about antisemitism? I'm not sure what the motive was." Even more intriguing, Horween patriarch Isadore founded Chicago's Horween Leather Company, which continues to supply leather for game balls to both the National Football League and the National Basketball Association.
While the Schwartz brothers recognise their boundary-breaking roles, they don't necessarily feel the weight of history as they dash across the field. "Honestly, we didn't realise our 'first' until our father told us," says Mitch. "But we do feel some responsibility to be role models. Kids look up to us. They think: 'My dream to become an NFL player is attainable.' It's reinforced the more we go into the community and into schools. You realise how much excitement there is for football and Jewish athletes. Kids just go wild when you walk in the door. You realise how important it is."
Geoff, who lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with his wife Meridith, agrees. "We get the gravity of it when we do events in the Jewish community," he says. "We don't think about it day-to-day. But it is who we are." Geoff is currently between professional football gigs and hosts BlockEmUp, a sports podcast.
Despite their rarity on the field - there are eight Jewish players in pro football, according to league listings - the brothers insist they've encountered little antisemitism, even in the notoriously in-your-face locker rooms of the National Football League.
"I've never had any negativity," Mitch says. "Guys make jokes back and forth, of course, but never anything to a level I've taken as offensive. People don't realise you're Jewish until you let them know. Someone might make a joke, and you might say: 'Hey, I'm Jewish. We do things a little different.' It's actually fun to describe the religion and the culture." Geoff - who writes about confronting a "Jews-in-ovens" gag in college - agrees. "It doesn't happen," he says flatly. "The college incident was a one-time thing. Most people just ask questions about the religion - they seem really interested. I'm sometimes the first Jew they've met, or at least the first one who's talked about Judaism."
As central as faith remains to both brothers, football still comes first. "I'd play if a game was scheduled on Yom Kippur," a slightly prickly Geoff says. "You only have so many opportunities to play in the NFL, and I use them. When I'm through playing, I can do all of the High Holy Days. I know that makes people upset, and they talk about [Sandy] Koufax [a pitcher who famously sat out first game of 1965 World Series, which fell on Yom Kippur]. He sat out a game but still played other games in that series. I can't make up a game that I missed. To miss a game puts my entire team in jeopardy. It's two totally different situations."
The brothers swear sibling rivalry never affected them. "I was larger than him most of childhood, and we played a lot of sports together," Geoff says. "I'm a super-competitive person, and I'm still competitive. But we're not competitive with each other as far as who's the better player - I think we all know he is. We love talking football and giving each other notes on games."
Mitch echoes the sentiment. "We were always extremely supportive of each other; there was never any jealousy or animosity," he says.
"It was more about happiness for each other's success and health. Geoff was always three years older and three years bigger, so always beat me whenever we played each other in anything. But it was always in fun."
Since the book doesn't delve into the technical aspects of American football, I ask the brothers to describe the game for an audience of British Jews. Their responses seem to reflect their characters.
Mitchell talks tactics. "It's eleven men versus eleven men at a time. One team is trying to score the ball on the other team.
"Offence and defence are on the field at all times. One team wants to score, the other wants to stop them. It's not a free-flowing game like European football. Every play has a beginning and an end. But the game's more complex than ever. Strategy's at a completely different level today; there's so much going on in every play. It used to be simple."
Geoff, generally the terser of the two, waxes a bit poetic. "It's like a violent ballet," he says. "There's a lot of moving parts. It can be overwhelming if you've never watched it. You'll figure it out eventually. My wife knew nothing about football when we met. Nine years later, she knows what's going on."
