Pondering Passover

The other day, while wandering the plentifully packed aisles of Shaw’s, I came upon something spectacular: the Passover preparation aisle. Now, being a Jewish girl, I have seen my fair share of matzo – but this display was something else. It was beautiful. Hundreds of matzo boxes were stacked neatly in rows, alongside matzo meal, matzo cake mixes and matzo cereals – you get the idea. There was such an abundance of bread-like substitutes (this being the essential task of these baking soda-free imposters) that I realized something remarkable. If this unbelievable Passover display were to replace my current pantry (which is cluttered by boxes of Oreo cookies, Cheez-Its, pretzel Goldfish and honey graham crackers), I’m not sure that I would even miss my old bread-based pals. Sure, Passover bread substitutes were never extremely satisfying, often falling into the plastic-tasting or rubber-texture category, but there was something different about this aisle. I was convinced that it was the answer to my Sabbath dinner prayers. While traditional kosher Passover recipes require the daunting task of chewing, crunching and munching and Pepto-Bismol to simply stomach the ‘treat,’ this aisle of possibility suggested deliciousness.

You see, in the past, I have always dreaded Passover. In my family, Passover means an unwanted eight-day, carbohydrate-free diet, with the exception of the matzo sandwich. Matzo peanut butter and jelly, matzo with butter, matzo with Nutella – it’s the same menu day after day, night after night. It gets old, my friends. While the sweet fillings might sound immediately appetizing, allow me to put things into perspective. Warren dining hall ring a bell? Yeah, the same food is only good for so long.

But perhaps this indigestion and suffering is warranted. Maybe this antacid chugging serves a greater purpose beyond its upset stomach-calming intent. When we eat those lead hard matzo balls, approaching the sixth night of teeth-chipping chomping, we think to ourselves, why us? What have we done to deserve Grandma Gene’s rock hard matzo ball soup? Just like the Israelites, we question the past, present and future and trust that God’s plan for us is bigger and better than what we are experiencing.

After all, the purpose of Passover is to remember the hardships of those of the past by recreating their suffering. The Israelites struggled to escape the wrath of Pharaoh, led by the mightiest Moses. And so we, in commemoration of this most victorious escape, tease our taste buds with the ever flavorful matzo – and its wrath.’

But why do we do this? We munch on life-size saltines for eight days and say goodbye to airy, fluffy, delicious breads, just like the Jews fleeing from Egypt did. Granted, they didn’t have the luscious treats of today’s culture to live without – chocolate Yodels, Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, French toast – but I’m sure their challah bread pudding was pretty darn swell.

And so, just as I began to come to terms with the fact that a temporary romance with matzo was my eight-day destiny, I stopped. If we Jews are really going to kick it old school, we should go big or go home. All of these matzo-based cake mixes, cookie mixes, stuffing mixes – it’s all cheating really. When the Jew crew horah-ed through the Red Sea, they didn’t have these bread-like innovations, so why should we? All they probably had was a box of matzo (most likely Rokeach brand) and a bottle of Manischewitz.

So please, people, show some respect and live with a little frugality. It’s not like you’re stuck eating cardboard for eight days.