March 31, 2004 at 8:36:54p.m.

Rule #3 – If you can’t stand Pesach cleaning…sit down.

Think about it – why do you have to stand to do all your Pesach prep? You can clean your refrigerator, for instance, just as well if you’re sitting in a chair as you can if you’re standing. Same goes for your oven. Countertops and the stove can be done from a seat the height of a bar stool, if you have one.

Rule #4 – Clean where the hametz is.

I don’t eat in my bedroom or bathroom; therefore, they’re not getting the same deep cleaning as the kitchen and dining room.

(DW)

March 30, 2004 at 10:30:46a.m.

I have some really fine memories of Passovers past when I was a young child and even as I was older. Passover was always the time when you knew family would be together. You knew that you would see B and Z (Bubbe and Zayde), Tantes and Fetters (the great aunts and great uncles), the (regular) aunts and uncles, and cousins, cousins and more cousins. You knew that by the time they all left the house, you would be glad to see them go, but you looked forward to seeing them nonetheless.

If you were really young and still not admitted to the adults’ table for the seder, then you were concerned with your performance of Kiddush, or the Four Questions (better known in our house as the Fier Kashes), or Dayeinu, or Adir Hu, or some other great operatic part or another! You just knew that if you were called upon to read, you would blow it- you would mangle some word or another. More than likely, the word you would mangle would be (Rabbi)Azariah.

You knew you were on your way the first year you were admitted to the ADULTS’ TABLE. You had arrived! You were part of the aristocracy! You were part of the Big People- no longer a squirt, a half pint, a little kid or a rug rat.

Every seder featured at least one pain in the neck relative who monopolized the conversation, and who asked the Fifth Question over and over, so often in fact, that everyone wanted to kill him/her. You don’t remember the Fifth Question? It is “When do we eat?” Often, several people could be counted upon to supply the whining undertone which was the hallmark of the question.

Dinner was always an excercise in Jewish gluttony. After the soup, chopped liver, and gefilte fish, came the main course: chicken, turkey, brisket, meatballs, sweet potato tzimmes, and carrot tzimmes. Add some wilted salad and soggy, over-cooked veggies and all the veggies from the roast beast, and you had a yom tov meal fit for everyone except Uncle Murray who always complained about something.

Dinner itself was punctuated with the loud remonstrations of the Fetters who could only agree with each other when they were attacking one of the others. One would voice an opinion and the others would jump to the attack. “Oh, so now you’re an expert?” “Hey, Sam, look who tinks he’s an expoit.” “Er is ah expert un ich bin der President…. ” And so on. Until,that is, one by one they fell asleep. It must have been the turkey. Dinner was never as much fun as when the Fetters were all snoring away at the table. We used to play a game called Q’s and O’s. We would look at a sleeping person and call out Q or O depending upon how they were sleeping. If the mouth was open, they were an O. If the tongue was out, too, they were a Q. Q’s were somewhat rare, so the person who could first call out a Q was the winner.

Before you knew it, it was time to open the door for Elijah. You just knew that your dopey brother or some idiot cousin would be on the other side of the door dressed like a Bedouin in a feeble attempt to imitate some pathetic vision of Elijah. Yup, Elijah came to our seder dressed in a bathrobe, wearing a towel turban-style on his head.

As the hour grew ever later, the seder would quickly wind down. Before you knew it, it was all over. Another seder the next day and then off to other pastures.

So here’s the question: how come if all we ever do is complain about those seders, we miss them so much?

(RJR)

March 30, 2004 at 9:29:35a.m.

We subscribe to all manner of notification email lists. Here is some timely info we received from Yoru Mishpotecho:

Please note that Rav David Cohen (of Far Rockaway), author of the upcoming Artscroll Hilchos Pesach, opines that styrofoam cups are acceptable for Pesach without certification.

Yes, folks, you read it here first. Uh, ok, you read it here second.

March 29, 2004 at 11:22:48a.m.

After spending four hours cleaning the oven on Sunday, and lugging boxes upstairs and downstairs, etc., we decided it was time to take a break for some laughter.

TEN SIGNS YOUR SEDER IS TOO BIG

10. You can’t find anywhere out of sight to hide the afikomen.

9. To recline at the table, everyone has to do it in unison.

8. You have to sketch your living room/dining room on graph paper first….

7. You have to use a microscope to divvy up the knaidelach.

6. When you rotate verses of “Echad Mi Yodea?” someone ends up singing, “Who knows 39?”

5. You start looking at ads for closed circuit TVs and auxiliary speakers.

4. While waiting for everyone to wash their hands the second time, the matza rises.

3. Even the kids complain that they do not have enough maror.

2. When you read the list of the Ten Plagues, the word “locusts” really rings a bell.

And the number one way you know your seder is too big………

1. When Elijah shows up, you give him his wine “to go.”

March 26, 2004 at 5:07:07p.m.

We’ve written about Shabbatai Gourmet stuff in the past (last year, just after Passover, in fact), and we want to remind you that when you see these products in the store, run to the display and glom as many as you can. These are the ne plus ultra of Passover cakes. They don’t come any better!

The Wing Dings (yup, just what you think they are) and the meltaway crumbs (“no babka, just crumbs”) are our two big faves, but we have to say there is nothing they make that we do not like. It is the best Passover cake we have ever had.

We have been looking for Shabbatai stuff and had not found any- until today. And where did we find it today? In Teaneck? Nope! In Buda Park, Brooklyn? Nope! On Main Street in Queens? Nope!We found them in, of all places, a bagel store on Staten Island (actually home of NYC’s best bagels, but that is another story for another time). They were rationing the boxes to the customers as a line had formed outside the store! Boys and girls, after shabbes, go look for the Shabbatai Gourmet boxes in your local kosher emporium. You will thank us!

Shabbt shalom to you all.

(RJR)