Rummikub and Kraft Dinner: A recipe for closeness
Retro board games have seen a resurgence in the pandemic and can offer a bonding experience
One of my favourite ways to spend my time with those closest to me, especially during the pandemic, is playing Rummikub, a nostalgic, tile-based game that’s a mix of elements from rummy and mahjong. My late bubbie, Lola, taught me as a toddler and we played it together almost every weekend until she died, at almost 97 years old.
Since then, I’ve continued to play this game with my family, and have introduced it to those who have come into my life along the way.
Bonding over games — especially retro ones, which have made a resurgence during the pandemic — is nothing new, but this game in particular makes for a bonding experience for me for many reasons.
Just like how people connect and bond with family over a traditional turkey dinner at a holiday table, I connect around the Rummikub board; tiles strewn just so across the table or floor.
I get to tell the history of the game and open up about my childhood and all my time spent with my bubbie. If that board could talk, what a story it would tell!
The sound of the tiles being “washed” (mixed up) face-down, clicking and clacking while setting up the game, brings me back to sitting at my bubbie’s dining room table. I can vividly see her wrinkled, delicate, perfect hands with her go-to, rose-coloured, slightlychipped nail polish, with a sparkle from her wedding ring.
Armed with the strategies I’ve learned from her over the years, I often take on the role of bubbie, where others can learn through my guidance, pick up on and play while adding their own flare.
The game comes in a handful of models — some expensive and vintage, others more cheap and modern — all which include 104 tiles, four game boards. The original, which I inherited from my bubbie, came in a small briefcase, with two hunter green swipes along the side with a red one in the middle (think Gucci style) and golden clasps making it easy to bring to play with friends, similar to the original mah-jong cases.
As the clasps on the case began to break and tiles started to spill out, I decided it was high time to get a board of my own. In my twenties, the game became a packing staple whenever I’d head up to a cottage, on vacation or on a visit. My board is as basic as they come, and to keep the tiles safe, my dad gave me a “Crown Royal” bag to place all the tiles inside.
The first time I introduce this game to someone is like a test. Will they understand how to play it? Will they grow tired at the tedious elements of the game that can last anywhere from 20 minutes to over an hour? Will they like it? Will they get a buzz from my enthusiasm at the game and fall in love with it like I did all those years back?
After spending many months playing Rummikub with my dad during lockdown, I was excited to introduce it to my new boyfriend, to teach him the tricks of the trade. “Will our relationship survive?” I joke-asked him as we started setting up our boards that first time. As I showed him the ropes and watched him pick it up immediately, I got weepy. I knew in that moment that this was a monumental mark in our relationship and what’s to come: I could pretend I had something in my eye and continue kicking his ass (ha!) or, I could express what the game meant to me. My history. My relationship and connection with my dear bubbie, and how much playing it with him and seeing him enjoying the game has made me happier than I’ve been in years. Many get competitive when playing games, but when we play it together we are both so present. As the board fills up with more tiles and we patiently allow one another to take an embarrassing long time to make a move, or reconfigure the entire setup, we don’t reach for our phones or another distraction. It’s just us, great tunes in the background and the stories that endlessly pour out. Him loving and thriving and enjoying the game as well as being open to playing it with me, feels like he’s truly embracing me.
So as not to schlep the game back and forth from my place to my boyfriend’s, he ordered us one to keep at his home. We spent some time online perusing the various models, and chose one that was unique to us and our tastes: a red, tin, vintage style board. Sturdy. Dependable. Refreshing.
When it arrived, we opened it up to play it for the first time and decided to forego some of my bubbie’s original rules to make some new ones of our own, to create our own tradition together. But, to honour her memory, after his first victory against me, my boyfriend made us a “gourmet” dinner: Kraft Dinner with ketchup, that always followed a game well played with my bubbie.