About
My story
A profession handed down, generation to generation — and the reason I take it as seriously as I do.
It began at home.
My father was a Mohel, and so were the generations before him, going back many generations in our family. I did not come to this work by chance. I grew up beside it — hearing the phone ring at strange hours, watching my father prepare, seeing how families looked at him when he arrived, and how they looked at him when he left.
Twenty-three years ago I began to learn the profession properly, taught directly by my father and studying alongside some of the top mohalim of our time. The technical part can be taught in a matter of months. The rest — the judgment, the calm, the way you speak to a mother who has not slept in eight days — takes considerably longer, and I am still learning it.
A family should not be managing the Mohel on the day of the Bris. My job is to make the whole thing feel like it is already taken care of — because it is.
How I work
I answer my own phone. When you call, you get me — not an office, not a service. We talk properly before the day: the timing, the location, the health of the baby, who you would like to honor, and anything at all that is on your mind. Nothing is too small to ask, and no question is one I have not heard before.
On the day itself I arrive early and unhurried, with everything prepared. I explain what is about to happen to whoever wants to hear it, and I keep the moment calm and dignified. A Bris should feel like a simcha, not like a medical appointment that everyone is holding their breath through.
Afterwards, I do not disappear. You get clear aftercare instructions, and I check in over the following days. If anything concerns you, you call me — at any hour. That is what I am here for.
Beyond my own community
Over the years I have been fortunate to travel and serve families in places where there is no local Mohel, including communities across Latin America. I have also trained specifically for adult Bris Milah, which brought me to men who had waited decades for this and had nowhere to turn. Both have taught me the same lesson: the ceremony matters enormously to people, and it deserves to be done properly wherever they are.
Let’s speak.
No obligation, and no question is too small. Call whenever suits you.