CHAG KASHER V’SAMEACH- A KOSHER AND HAPPY PASSOVER

One of my younger brothers would always disappear during the seder only to reappear at the front door when we opened the door to welcome the prophet Elijah. For some reason none of us could ever figure out, he always looked like an Arab, or like some Hebrew school version of Mordechai.

Our seders were very lively. Our parents were of the belief that a seder is not a seder unless there were dozens of people present. So what if we sat at three different tables? So what if the room was stuffy and hot? So what if you could not hear the seder leader due to all the talking going on at all three tables.

Of the Four Questions, only one was important- the fifth question; as in when do we eat already?

The meal itself was a banquet. There was the chicken soup with matzah balls. With the matzah balls came the annual argument over sinkers versus floaters. Then came the gefilte fish. If we had any Gentiles at the seder, it was fun to watch them turn green after tasting the fish. Then came the chopped liver, and with it came the argument over fried onions or raw.

Finally, the main course appeared: chicken, brisket, maybe turkey instead of chicken, maybe roast beef instead of brisket. Boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, potatoes with eggs and onions. Over cooked and soggy veggies. (Side note: I think I was in my 20’s when I discovered that veggies are best served al dente!) A bowl of chicken schmaltz to spread on the matzah. Potato kugel. Apple sauce. Extra charoset to spread on the matzah. Horse radish- white and red. Some years, we had my mother’s home made horse radish- it usually was so strong that the grown men would weep when they ate it. And the wall paper peeled.
Sweet and sour mini meatballs would appear like magic.

During the meal, my grandparents’ siblings would fall asleep. Sometimes we prayed they would fall asleep, because they could argue about anything and everything. They could argue over the proper size of a tooth pick.

My biggest wonder at that time was this: Are all Jews hard of hearing?? They never talked when they could yell. As English was not their collective native tongue, if the argument switched from Yiddish to English, the voices got even louder. (Another side note: that may be somewhat universal. I find that when people approach me on the street here in Israel, they shout, “Do You Speak English? What’s up with that?)

When I was a kid, there was none of the stuff we have today. There were no meal short cuts. As a result, meal time meant family time, and it meant planning and cooking. All we knew was that the food was always fresh, boringly repetitive, and almost always over cooked.

As much as we complain today, the truth is we would not have had it any other way.

A happy and kosher passover to you all.