Weather 
They’re praising and blazing.
A toking tribe of ganja-loving Jewish New Yorkers is lighting a match under the traditional Shabbat celebration — holding fun and 420-friendly “infused” dinners where the brisket isn’t the only thing that’s smokin’.
Lighting up back in 2024 and celebrating a dozen or so chilled-out gatherings since, the semi-regular social event welcomes Jews and Gentiles alike for a multi-course, faith-based dinner while enjoying a wide selection of weed-related offerings — because “Jews who love cannabis deserve a community, too,” according to organizer Danit Sibovits.
A serious attorney by day and a not-so-serious comedian and influencer on her off hours, Sibovits, 42, told The Post that when it comes to spirituality, a little THC can definitely take you higher — an idea she’s long wanted to share with others, and which led her to create the Infused Shabbat Dinner.
“I have so many repeat people, but I also have so many people who’ve come by themselves, made friends and now go every single time,” Sibovits told The Post. “Cannabis makes you more relaxed, so many people come alone and leave with friends.”
Held at Harlem sports bar The Fox, the idea for the doob and dinner event was sparked shortly after the tragic events of Oct. 7, 2023 — not just a difficult time for the Jewish community, but for Sibovitz personally.
“Everything changed for Jews in New York after October 7 — we lost everything standing up for Israel,” she recalled of the politically-charged aftermath of the Hamas massacre.
“I lost almost all my ‘friends’ in comedy, all my opportunities. We felt so alone and scared, afraid to say who we are … so I felt called to create a community for us. Something less restrictive, more inclusive and more intentional,” she told The Post.
“That first one definitely had a more somber vibe,” Sibovits recalled of the first gathering. “But it was also upbeat, because everyone wanted to come together.
And come together they do, paying as much as $190 for the dinners — noshing on grilled salmon fritters and truffle fries in between samplings of seltzers, gummies and pre-rolled joints, which range in strength from 5 milligrams to 1.5 grams and are provided by event sponsors like Wynk, Sigma, Hamsa and Curaleaf.
Sibovits estimates that around 10 to 15 percent of her guests don’t partake at all, simply coming for “friends and vibes” — though reeferphobes will want to avoid the challah, which has 5mg of THC per serving.
An avid fan and follower of Mary Jane since she was practically in Mary Janes, Sibovits said she and her school pals would secretly consume “whatever weed you could get from your friend who sold it.”
In 2021, shortly after former NYC governor Andrew Cuomo legalized weed under the state’s Marijuana Regulation and Taxation Act (MRTA), Sibovits conceptualized “The HotBox,” a “stoner comedy show” held at the entertainment venue Room 52 — where NYC comedians would light up on stage while sharing personal stories.
There’s no denying that, since its legalization in the Big Apple, cannabis use has gotten a bit out of control, with New Yorkers lighting up on practically every street corner. Considering it’s the most commonly used drug in the U.S., 19% of Americans get high at least once a year, according to the CDC, with that percentage most likely higher in states where weed is legal.
While gatherings such as this one are unique and fun, it’s important to note that habitually smoking marijuana takes a toll on the body, irritating the lungs, damaging blood vessels and accelerating heart rate.
And not to mention that chronic use can cause a decline in the brain’s ability to retain and process information, according to a 2025 University of Colorado study.
Although I’m one of the few New Yorkers who doesn’t smoke, I was curious about the concept of a meal and social event where lighting up wasn’t just allowed, but encouraged. So I threw on a silky, burgundy Zara halter top — in an effort to meet the evening’s dress code of “linen, silk, draped silhouettes” — and hopped on the uptown D train last Friday.
Puff the magic conversation starter
When I showed up at the restaurant around 6:30 pm, which was beautifully decorated in earth tones and various floral decor in line with the dinner’s “Spring Fever” theme, I entered a space where my fears of being an outsider melted away almost instantly.
Attendees at last Friday’s dinner were seated at long, wooden tables lining the venue’s outer edges — dotted by aesthetically pleasing place settings (complete with cannabis swag, like glitter freckles and gummy packets, from various event sponsors) and accented with flickering candles.
A large portion of the night’s 50+ guests made the space their own before the meal even began, with some sitting at the bar enjoying cocktails, while others mingled with friends old and new.
Curious as to how the venue gets around strict city and state laws that prohibit smoking indoors under the Smoke Free Air Act (SFFA) and Clean Indoor Air Act (CIIA), I raised my concerns to Joshua S. Bauchner, a cannabis law attorney who’s also a partner of The Fox.
“We’re hoping that with it being a religious and community-oriented event, especially with what’s going on in the world today, it will be respected without interference,” Bauchner told The Post.
As for the event itself, the guests — who Sibovits later told me ranged in age from 20s to 50s, and typically find the event for the first time through flyers she posts around Manhattan, or her personal Instagram — seemed to be having a grand ol’ time, complimenting one another’s flower crowns (provided by Sibovits) and swapping Curaleaf Star-of-David-wrapped J’s.
A blessing on your blunt
Following the open bar happy hour, Sibovits quickly thanked her sponsors and guests before introducing Rabbi Brian H. Denker, who said a few words and prayers.
These included Hamotzi and the Kiddush — the blessings over the bread and wine, respectively. He also led the lighting of the candles — a ritual performed on Friday evening before sunset to usher in Shabbat, which ends Saturday night — specifically, when at least three stars appear in the sky.
“Especially being in New York these days, it’s a difficult time to be Jewish,” Rabbi Denker told The Post, this having been his second Infused Shabbat Dinner. “What Danit’s doing is creating a unique space — finding a commonality that binds people together.”
Once the food and libations were flowing, I had the opportunity to chat with some of the other dinner guests, most of whom were imbibing themselves and had grouped themselves among old and new friends alike (no stuffy assigned seating here).
“I really enjoy the community that has been built at Infused Shabbat,” Josh Senger, a Jewish, Tribeca-based textile worker, told The Post, having been to seven of the dinners to date. “Sharing the experience of an infused meal seems to enhance the connections we make.”
“I feel like a lot of Jewish (activities) revolve around religion, but we’re not just a religion — we’re an ethnic group, we’re a community,” added Hannah Castillo, a Latina-Jewish software project manager based in Astoria who has attended five of these dinners.
“So I love that this exists outside as a cultural thing, but we still do our Shabbat candles…This has given me friends and a safe space, which is by far the most important thing.”
