Amen

נרצה

We rarely make it this far in the seder. Maybe that's because we don't want to worry about whether we can sincerely say "Next Year in Jerusalem." I think I've got a work-around. Jerusalem means "city of peace." We can all hope to be in a city of peace next year.

Speaking of things we say but don't necessarily mean, Chistopher J. Moore claims in his book In Other Words that the Japanese word tatemae means "the reality that everyone professes to be true, even though they may not privately believe it." Please send in your favorite examples of tatemae.

Before calling it a night, let's fill and deplete a final glass of wine. Some call it Nirtzah or Conclusion, I call it the perfect end to another fabulous Austin seder.

Ken

This Seder started in 1985 (back in the 5740s) with Ken Schubb, who had to leave us. We leave a glass of wine for Ken too.

Elijah's Coming

בָּרֵךְ & הלל

As we near the end, we'll give thanks one more time. You can never overdo that at a seder.

מוֹזְגִין כּוֹס שלִישִׁי וּמְבָרְכִין בִּרְכַּת הַמָזוֹן

(. . . boray pri hagofen)

That's our ticket to a third glass of wine. Third one's a charm -- bottoms up!

Now that we're all full of wine, it's time to offer it up for Elijah the prophet. Elijah - come on in and please, when you do, bring us peace and freedom!

At this point we ignore the requirement to sing songs of praise and go directly to the end, נרצה

Les enfants juifs, however, love to sing les chants de Pessa’h.

Dessert - not a highlight

צָפוּן

Although this portion of the seder is called "tzafun," it's not that much fun. Tzafun is when the kids find the afikoman and share it for dessert.

Phil's hiding places are lame, and, as I said earlier, everybody gets a little bag of gelt, whether they look for the afikoman or not.

Also, while the Passover meal is pretty impressive at the start, the Tzafun can be a little disappointing. I really can't believe we used to think the afikomen counted as dessert. Then again, we didn't have obese children running through the bullrushes.

The afikomen is so not a dessert that Ella ignores it.

Mitzi Matzah

שֻׁלְחָן עוֹרֵךְ

It's time for Shulcan Orech -- the meal! As if we hadn't been eating all evening. But now it's time for the crowning glory of our Seder: Mitzi's matzah ball soup. It's so good even our vegetarians overlook the chicken broth.

While we're eating, we can try to figure out whether this bunch is also enjoying a seder meal. If so, the idea of having everyone sit on one side of the table can't have worked very well.

If that doesn't interest you, see if you can solve a puzzle.

First unscramble the following words, which are all standard English transliterations of Passover terminology.

THAAZM ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

ORMAR ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

SHAKED ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

DIGAMG ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Now rearrange the letters underlined in orange to find the answer to this question: What do pigs do on Passover?

__ __ __ __ the

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ .

Sandwich Time

כּוֹרֵךְ

You may have read the Book of Numbers where God wants Moses to talk to the Israelites about the Passover sacrifice. Back then, the blogs weren't as well kept, so in order to remember the story, God said "They shall eat it with unleavened bread and bitter herbs, and they shall not leave any of it over until morning."

Rabbi Hillel, who lived back when the Second Temple still stood, obeyed the commandment by making a sandwich out of matzah, maror and pesach. It was a tricky one to eat - always crumbling. Now that there's no more Second Temple, we go with the vegetarian version - just Matzah, Maror and Charoset.

Some say that Rabbi Hillel invented the sandwich--not the name, of course. That was the Earl of Sandwich. (Well, I though it was the Earl of Sandwich, but that's controversial. Find out more here: http://whatscookingamerica.net/History/SandwichHistory.htm)

In any event, Hillel invented the concept, a much higher-level achievement. Without Rabbi Hillel, we would never have had these delights:

Who's Bitter?

מָרוֹר

Slavery isn't any fun. In fact, some would call it bitter. To remind myself of those terrible days, I eat Maror - the bitter herbs. We use horseradish.

Culinary tip - to juxtapose it against the sweetness of freedom, and for a spicy yet sweet delicacy, try dipping the maror into the charoset.

Come to think of it, I like horseradish so much that it doesn't remind me of slavery at all. Maybe we should use arugula. Any other ideas?

Another problem is that there are genetic differences in the ability to taste bitterness. Maybe food is the wrong approach all together. Maybe we could use grating sounds to remind us of slavery.

Bless This Bread Substitute

מַצָּה

Nothing goes with Manichewitz quite like Matzah. And it's time to give thanks for that mixed blessing:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם הַמּוֹצִיא לֶחֶם מִן הָאָרֶץ

( . . . hamotzi lechem min ha'aretz)

We praise you, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל אֲכִילַת מַצָּה

( . . . al achilat matzah)

We praise you, Adonio our God, Ruler of the Universe, who has made us holy with mitzvot and commands us to eat matzah.


The first day or so, I enjoy the matzah, particularly with charoset and horseradish, but after eight days -- ya basta. It's crazy, we don't eat it all year, then nothing but matzah for eight days. And do not let anyone tell you that matazah brei is better than scrambled eggs, which you can eat anyway, so what's the point.

Les enfants juifs reminded me that traditional hand-rolled matzah was irregularly round. Nineteenth century matzah baking machines produced the novel concept of square matzah.

Can't Stop Washing

רַחַץ



Call me crazy, but I think it's time to wash hands again. This one is called Rochtzah, and it reminds me of a great little blessing:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדַיִם



( . . . al n'tilat yadayim)



We praise you, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, who has made us holy with mitzvot and commands us to wash our hands.



Since he commands us to wash our hands, we should do it right. Most of us miss critical spots.

Farewell, Pharoah

So did I tell you what happened with Pharoah? Eventually he got freaked out and let the Isaelites go. We left super-quick, not wanting to chance anything - and didn't even have time to bake bread for our journey. Instead, we put raw dough on our backs and the sun turned it into the crunchy goodness we call Matzoh.

It's a good thing we hurried because sure enough, the Pharoah regretted his decision and sent his army after us. Next thing we know, we're standing along the bank of the Sea of Reeds and the army is hot on our heels! Thank God -- literally, THANK HIM - he parted the sea so we could go across. The army didn't have any such luck and once the water rushed back over them, we knew we were good to go.

Thinking back to that day, I think God deserves a shout out. He did so many things to help set the Israelites free -- any one of them would have been enough.

That actually reminds me of a song --

Ilu ho-tsi, ho-tsi-o-nu, Ho-tsi-onu mi-Mitz-ra-yimHo-tsi-onu mi-Mitz-ra-yimDa-ye-nu

CHORUS: Da-da-ye-nu,Da-da-ye-nu,Da-da-ye-nu,Da-ye-nu,Da-ye-nu,
Da-da-ye-nu,Da-da-ye-nu,Da-da-ye-nu,Da-ye-nu,Da-ye-nu

Ilu na-tan, na-tan-la-nu, Na-tan-la-nu To-rat e-met,To-rat e-met na-tan-la-nu,Da-ye-nu

(repeat)

(CHORUS)

I love this picture. Most pictures of the red sea parting are based on the assumption that the laws of physics still applied. But this was God's work -- although this is the God that had his people paint blood on their houses so he'd know where they lived.



If anyone is up for a second cup of wine, now's a good time to knock it back while again remembering that we should not oppress anyone else the way we were kept down in Egypt.

About Those Plagues

That is all very interesting, but shouldn't we be a bit troubled that the plagues are the most memorable part of our seder? Pharoah and his gang were certainly bad guys and I wasn't ashamed of my Shadenfreude when I heard about the locusts. The boils didn't even bother me, as long as I didn't have to see them. But killing the first born? That doesn't really fit with the remember-how-it-felt-so-don't-do-it-to-others spirit of Passover. Maybe it was just meant metaphorically.

Anyway, some of my best friends are Egyptians.

Don't Mess With Moses

מכות מצרים, which means "plagues of Egypt"

So more gossip to add about the whole slavery story -- when Pharoah wouldn't let the Israelites go, God hit the Egyptians with 10 plagues -- read them with me and dip your fingers in your wine if you have any nearby:

Blood (dam) דָם

Frogs (Tz'fardea) צְּפַרְדֵּעַ

Lice (Kinim) כִנִּים

Wild Beasts (Arov) עָרֹב

Cattle Disease (Dever) דֶּבֶר

Boils (Sh'chin) שְׁחִין

Hail (Barad) בָּרָד

Locusts (Arbeh) אַרְבֶּה

Darkness (Cho-shech) חֹשֶׁךְ

Slaying of the Firstborn (makat b'chorot) מַכַּת בְּכוֹרוֹת

The BBC website provides a bit more detail about the plagues.

The Plague of Blood: God turned the water of the River Nile into blood so that
the fish died and the water stank. All the water in Egypt was turned into blood.

The Plague of Frogs: Egypt was overrun with frogs - there were frogs in the
beds, frogs in the ovens, and frogs jumping on the people.

The Plague of Lice: Dust was turned into lice which crawled on people
and animals. (The Bible calls this The Plague of Gnats, but in Judaism the
accepted translation of the Hebrew word Kinim is lice).

The Plague of Flies: Swarms of flies arrived in Egypt and poured into
Pharaoh's palace, the houses of his officials, and all over the land. (The
Hebrew word here is "Orov" meaning mixture and in Jewish tradition this refers
to a mixture of wild animals.)

The Plague on Livestock: All animals belonging to the Egyptians died -
horses, donkeys, camels, cattle, sheep and goats.

The Plague of Boils: Festering boils broke out on the Egyptian people
and their livestock.

The Plague of Hail: The worst hailstorm ever to hit Egypt struck,
beating down crops growing in the fields and even killing people and animals
caught in it.

The Plague of Locusts: A swarm of locusts settled in Egypt and devoured
anything left growing after the hail.

The Plague of Darkness: Egypt became totally dark for three days.

. . . .

. . . .The Plague on the firstborn: An avenging angel would go from house to house
killing every first-born son, including the first-born son of livestock.
Israelite children would not be killed and thus God would show that they were
his chosen people.

So that the angel would know which houses were Israelite homes, the
Children of Israel were to follow very specific instructions:

Each household was to take an unblemished, male lamb, look after it,
and slaughter it at twilight four days later.

Blood from the lamb was to be brushed on the door frames. This would
tell the avenging angel that it was an Israelite home and to 'pass over'.

Then the families were to roast the lamb and eat it with bitter herbs
and unleavened bread. Every bit of the lamb had to be eaten and any remaining
bones burned.

The Israelites were to perform this ritual dressed for a journey.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/judaism/holydays/passover_1.shtml (Interpretive color coding not provided by the BBC). One would think that God wouldn't have needed a roadmap to figure out who his people were, but apparently God did not want to take any chances.

Hogwarts Haggadah

One of les enfants juifs looks a lot like Harry Potter. That got me thinking about Passover at Hogwarts, so I googled "Hogwarts Haggadah." No direct hit, but I did discover that amazon.com sells a book called Harry Potter and Torah, which is currently Amazon's 447,843rd best seller. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1847532373?ie=UTF8&tag=hpt-20

The author is identified as Dov Krulwich, but the name is almost certainly a J.K. Rowling invention. Like me, Dov Krulwich maintains a Blogspot blog, and his March 15, 2007, post is titled "A Passover thought related to Harry Potter: The importance of Jewish unity," in which he leaps from the fact that Dumbledore counseled unity against Voldemort to the lesson that Jews should stick together.

I see a similar connection between the fact that there are four questions at Passover and the fact that there are at least four questions that need to be resolved in HP VII, in particular whether Snape is a good guy or a bad guy.

Let me know your nominations for the four most urgent questions to be resolved in HP VII.

Let My People Go

It turns out that the Pharoah didn't like the song, but it really inspired the Israelites. This may be the greatest Passover song other than Dayenu:

When Israel was in Egypt’s land,
Let My people go!
Oppressed so hard they could not stand,
Let My people go!

Refrain:Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt’s land;
Tell old Pharaoh
To let My people go!

So the God seyeth: go down, moses
Way down in egypt land
Tell all pharaoes to
Let my people go!

So moses went to egypt land...
Let my people go!
He made all pharaoes understand...
Let my people go!

Thus spoke the lord, bold moses said:
Let my people go!
if not Ill smite, your firstborns dead
Let my people go!

This could go on and on. It turns out there are many variations on the lyrics, and some of them aren't too Jewish, like the one that ends with, "A Christian has a right to shout, Let my people Go!"

The essential Jewishness of the concept is preserved in Let My People Go, the nation's biggest Jewish singles event since 1995.

The Back Story

Okay I've been blogging and blogging and never actually got into telling you what happened to me & Moses so long ago. This seems like a pretty good time to fill you in and, by the way, this is all part of Maggid, the longest section of the bloggadah:

Our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, which they called Mitzraim. Pharoah forced them to build cities and palaces. That was bad enough, but when Pharaoh ordered the male children of the Israelites to be drowned, one Israelite mother, Yocheved, hid her baby in a basket on the river. (You don't hear the name Yocheved much any more.)

When the Pharoah's daughter came to the river to bathe, she discovered the baby in the basket, and she decided to keep him as her own. She named him Moses, which means drawn from the water. (It's interesting that they even had a word for "drawn from the water.")

The baby's sister, Mariam, saw what had happened, and she asked the Pharoahs' daughter if she needed help with the baby. The Pharoah's daughter liked the idea, so Yocheved was able to help raise Moses and teach him about his people.

When Moses grew up, he saw an Egyptian beating an Israelite slave. Moses lost it and killed the Egyptian. (Moses ended up being a big hero, but, I admit, this doesn't make him look so good.) Afterward, Moses fled from Egypt to the land of Midian, where of course he met my dad Jethro, who introduced him to me. From this point on, I can give a first-hand account of the story.

One day when Moses was tending sheep on Mount Horeb in Midian, a voice spoke to him from the bush of the eternal flame. The voice, which turned out to be God's voice, told Moses to go back to Egypt to free the Israelite slaves. Moses thought he might be able to do this by writing a song for the Pharoah. That song will be the subject of my next post.

Four Frequently Asked Questions

מגיד

A Maggid is an itinerate preacher, a storyteller, and this is where we tell the story.

Here's where I enlist the help of the youngest kid who can read -- preferably in English AND Hebrew. Would that be Zoe or Diego?

This illustration comes from a web site for enfants juifs. Les enfants juifs do elegant things like faire le kiddouche or manger les herbes amères or casser la matza. Of course, the whole thing begins with the allumage des bougis. No wonder he is wearing a bow tie.


So a child asks the general question, "Why is this night different from all other nights?"

Then a child asks the four specific questions:

On all other nights, we eat chametz and matzah. Why on this night do we only eat matzah?

On all other nights, we eat many vegetables. Why on this night do we eat maror?

On all other nights, we do not dip even once. Why on this night do we dip twice?

On all other nights, we eat either sitting or reclining. Why on this night do we all recline?

You can go here if you'd like to read the four questions in Yiddish: http://www.davka.org/what/haggadah/fourqsy.html.

Here's why this night is different: We eat matzah to remind us of our hasty departure from Egypt. We eat bitter herbs to remind us of the bitterness of slavery. We dip our bitter herbs twice, once in salt water and once in sweet charoset, to remember both the tears of our ancestors and the sweetness of their hope for freedome.

As to the last question, the one about reclining, the answer is that we recline at the seder as a symbol of freedom. But we don't. In fact, it's been hundreds of years since I've seen anyone recline at a seder. It's horrible for the digestion. Surely there are other ways to symbolize our freedom. Please send in replacement ideas.

Voici le Pain de Misère

יחץ

Ya'hats, c'est le rite qui consiste à couper en deux la matsa médiane des trois matsoth du plat du Sédère.

Ahh, Yachatz. It's times like this I'm glad I'm not the head of the household - now's the part where Moses needs to break the middle matzah in two, hold it high for everyone to see, wrap the bigger half, and sneak it off to hide the Afikomen. Never mind, I guess Phil gets to hide the Afikomen. (Anyway, no one here has any interest in looking for it because you get the same bag of Gelt whether you find it or not.)

The thing about this matzah, is that it's the bread of affliction. It's what our people ate in Egypt. If any of my readership is hungry, come on by. And anyone out there who can't celebrate your own Passover, come over and do it with us.

And while you're at it, pour yourself a second cup of wine.

Maybe at this point Emma can Skype in from Germany to say, "Dies ist das Brot des Ungluecks." (Germany is still Ashkenaz to me, so you can imagine how long it's going to take me to start calling 26th Street Dean Keeton. Like never.) Anyway, nothing says affliction better than Unglueck. In contrast, le pain de misère makes you want some.

Yachatz is the heart and soul of Passover, the critical point in the service where you are supposed to remember where you (or you ancestors) came from. I like to put it this way: You may deserve some credit for where you are in life, but don't be so full of yourself to think that luck didn't play a role, so spread that luck around. I'm not the only one who feels this way. Maimonides was very concerned that fortune made people arrogant and insensitive.

Speaking of arrogance and insensitivity, some say that we eat matza at Passover rather than puffy bread because puffiness stands for arrogance and insensitivity. Where do they come up with that stuff?

The Bitterer the Better

כַּרְפַּס

It's this springtime weather that makes me so glad we ended up in Austin. It reminds me of that spring we Israelites left Egypt. To remember how teary I was, and how sad it is that some slaves aren't free today, it's time to dip parsley in salt water.

Remember parsley is just one of many bitter options. The Chabad website shows an onion.

Here's a prayer I like to say while I'm dipping:

טוֹבְלִין כַּרְפַּס פָּחוֹת מִכְזַיִת בְּמֵי מֶלַח, וּמְבָרְכִין. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה.

( . . . boray pri ha'adamah)

Wikipedia says that some have explained the dipping of the Karpas to symbolize Josef's tunic being dipped into blood by his brothers. This is news to me. Of course, anybody can say anything on Wikipedia.

The Chabad Passover website shares some delightful anagramology and numerology: "The Hebrew letters of karpas can be arranged to spell 'Perach Samech'. Perach means backbreaking work and Samech is numerically equivalent to 60, referring to the 60 myriads (10,000), equaling 600,000, which was the number of Jewish males over 20 years of age who were enslaved in Egypt." http://www.chabad.org/holidays/passover/pesach.asp?AID=2003

Didn't someone just make a movie with that numerology concept?

Anagrams are easier in Hebrew, where you're not limited to specific vowels. The English rendering "karpas" can be rearranged to spell parkas, which stands for the cold nights in the desert; 0r "a spark" to stand for the brilliant idea to hot foot it out of Egypt; or "ark spa" to remind us of the nice thing God did for our ancestor Noah; or, along those lines "ark asp" to remind us that God loves all creatures, even snakes; or "ark's pa," which just reminds us of Noah himself (unless God h'self was the father of the ark). Finally there is the musical anagram "rap ska" I'll leave it to Marc to decode that one.

Speaking of anagrams, maybe someone will have some insight into the significance of "real spy" as an anagram for "parsley." Thanks to http://wordsmith.org/anagram/ for the anagrams.

Geography Note: There are lovely beaches on the Karpas peninsula in Cyprus:

I discovered that by searching for "Karpas" on Google images. There are also a lot of people with the last name "Karpas."

Passover Contest: See what words you can find using the letters in "passover." The person who finds the words with the most letters wins. "Overpass" doesn't count.

Where have those hands been?

וּרְחַץ

Almost forgot an important step - time for Urchatz, or the handwashing. It's always a good idea to do this before you start with all the dipping...

Although we're generally tired of Haikus, it's useful to have something to say for Urchatz. Anyway, everyone enjoys the seminal Urchatz haiku:

Slaves have to eat fast

But we're not in Egypt now

There's time to wash up.

Most sources (Internet sources, at least) say that Urchatz doesn't include a prayer. A minority, however, say that Urchatz involves the "nitalat yidayim," just like any other handwashing, so I'm including it to be safe:

נוֹטְלִין אֶת הַיַָדַיִם וְאֵין מְבָרְכִין "עַל נְטִילַת יָדַיִם

Actually some sources think that Urchatz doesn't really merit a solo section in the haggadah (or bloggadah) because it's really part of Karpas.

Urchatz is as good a time as any to say a blessing for our pets, one of whom in pictured here in her Midian-style cloak. Apparently pet blessing is not a particularly Jewish activity. St. Francis seems to have cornered that market. At least one writer was troubled enough by this state of affairs that he wrote about a Jewish boy who wants to take his dog to the Catholic Church for a blessing. His mom won't let him. "A disappointing, slack treatment of a promising theme," says Publisher's Weekly. (I certainly agree that it's a promising theme.) The School Library Journal is less harsh. It gives the book a thumbs up, saying, "The question of what Jared will choose to do keeps readers in suspense straight through to the last page." Since when are Jewish boys named Jared? For me, the cover sells the book. Check it out: http://www.amazon.com/Blessing-Animals-Michael-Rosen/dp/0374308381.

Woohoo - Time for Wine

קַדֵשׁ

One of the great things about Passover is the whole "four cups of wine" thing -- and now seems like a good time to start!

As I down this first one, I can't help but think about the first promise found in the Torah -- "I am Adonai, and I will free you from slavery in Egypt."

So let's bless the wine. Here's the Hebrew:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָםבּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָפֶן.
( . . . boray pri hagafen)
And in English:

Praised be Thou, O Lord our God, king of the universe, who created the fruit of the vine.


(For many years, Phil has tried to replace traditional Jewish wines with fancy French wines. This year he has traded in his yarmulke for a beret.)



Speaking of great things, it troubles me that dogs don't get any attention at the Seder. Maybe the Israelites had bad experiences with dogs in Egypt. There is, after all, a dog known as a pharoah dog, with a figure Ella can only dream about.

Big Meal Tonight

Time to set up for the big meal tonight -- can't believe it's been more than 3000 years since my husband Moses led us all out of slavery in Egypt. Seems like just yesterday we were making real mortar -- it's a lot easier to mix up apples & nuts.

This is my first year to blog the seder, so don't spare your comments and criticisms. Believe me, I heard what people were saying last year about the tired Haiku Haggadah.

Before I reveal what's on the menu, I think it's time for a little prayer and some candle lighting. By the way, blogging in Hebrew is a nightmare, so imagine my relief to find I could cut and paste the prayers from www.opensourcehaggadah.com. So for those of you who can still read Hebrew -- Jack?--, here we go:

בּרוּךְ אַתּה ײֳ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדֹּשָׁנוּ בּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל בּֽעוּר חָמֵץ.כָּל חֲמִירָא וַחֲמִירָא דְּאִכָּא בִרְשׁוּתִי דְּלָא חֲמִתֵּה וּדְלָא בִעַרְתֵּהּ וּדְלָא יְדַעְנָא בֵּיה לִבָּטֵל וְלֶהֱוִי הֶפְקִר כְּעַפְרָא דְּאַרְעָא.

Here's the traditional English:

Praised art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who hast sanctified us with Thy commandments and commanded us to kindle the festival lights.

We should probably come up with a more modern version, but I love the idea of "kindling the lights. Maybe we could keep the kindling and lose the king.

Now check out this spread:

The Z'roa is a roasted shank bone. It reminds us of the special lamb brought to the Temple in Jerusalem on Passover as an offering to God.

The Baytzo, a boiled egg, symbolizes the new life that comes with springtime.

(By the way, Marc and Lauren, we could use some new life at our Seder.)

Maror is a bitter herb that reminds us of the bitternessof slavery.

Charoset, a mixture of apples, nuts, and bad wine is symbolic of the mortar that slaves used to make bricks in Egypt.

Karpas, a green vegetable, reminds us that Passover occurs during springtime when new life brings a feeling of hope. (Like most people we know, we use parsley, and, oddly, it is Diego's favorite food item at the Seder.)

Now we are ready to start. On to the קַדֵשׁ

One more thing -- did someone forget to tell the NCAA about Passover?

Kosher for Passover?

There is a lot of disagreement at our Seder about what counts as kosher for Passover. Lauren takes the strict, and Biblically questionable, view that rice and corn are treyf. The corn prohibition in particular requires a fairly strained interpretation since there was no corn in the Jewish world until after 1492 (unless you believe that the native Americans really were a lost tribe). Nonetheless, if you've read Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemna or Greg Critser's Fatland, you may think a prohibition against corn (or at least a prohibition against high-fructose corn syrup) is a good concept--and one that should last for more than eight days a year.

It's good to know that Coca-Cola makes a Kosher-for-Passover Coke that is made with cane sugar rather than high-fructose corn syrup.

The Woelk-Durst household, by the way, subscribes to a Gestalt theory of Passover kosherness. Flat things, such as tortillas, are permissible.

חיות

חיות

(Animals)

If anyone knows how to write"pictures of pets" in Hebrew, let me know.

Above, left, Pip in her new spring collar.

On the right, Scooby.

Pip again.

Above, Mendel. Maybe "animals"is the right name for this post. Mendel can't honestly be identified as a pet. He is a cat who gets room and board on our porch.

To the left, Glorio. He is Mendel's long-time companion. Phil first named him G-L-O-R-I-A. Upon closer inspection, he turned out to be Glorio. This photo is for his album cover.