#BlogExodus: Praise

Because there are no rules for #BlogExodus and because I often need time to process and percolate my thoughts, I believe it’s okay to write this last entry now, on the second day of Passover. If so, I wish to offer praise:

To the people who welcomed me into their homes over the last two nights for seder, in one instance for the umpteenth time, in another for the first time. In both cases, all of us who gathered, benefitted from gracious and generous hospitality, engaging company, wonderful food, lots of laughter, and the opportunity to retell the story of the exodus from Egypt, sharing and celebrating Jewish tradition together.

For growing and ever-intersecting and connecting circles of friends.

For musicians – cantors and professional singers – whose sweet voices enriched the journey from the narrowness of Mitzrayim.

For Rabbi Jim Rudin for his reminder that this year, 15 Nisan marked the 75 ^thanniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and also for pointing out the beautiful full moon as we headed back into the city, following the first seder.

For MetroNorth trains that run relatively on time.

For Elmo and for his knowing 13, so he could, as has become his own holiday tradition, help with Echad Mi Yodea.

For my friend, Pamela, and our new-ish holiday tradition that affirms our decisions to choose life and confirms that some of what makes Passover Passover has little to do with brisket, matzah, or Manischewitz.

For the blessing of memory that allows us to remember with love those who live in our hearts, even if they’re no longer physically with us around the table and for the power of that first bite of wet matzah spread with sweet, whipped butter to open floodgates to the past – and decades of Passover memories as sweet as the butter.

For Elijah and his enduring ability to keep hope alive – for whatever our hearts desire and for a more equitable and just world that is our responsibility to help build and create.

Chag sameach, friends!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima , this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nisan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Friday, March 30, corresponding to the Hebrew date 15 Nisan 5778. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #ExodusGram prompts .

#BlogExodus: Bitter

I just finished reading Jennifer Weiner’s article in today's paper about seders past and present, and how she’s the one in her family now in charge of the annual event.

In 2010, at 77, my mom was still the one in charge of our seders.  She’d been having some health issues so I went out to New Jersey the day before, Sunday, March 28, to help finish the preparations.  When I arrived, the table was already set, the soup and the matzah balls were made, and the brisket was in the crockpot.  I assembled some relish trays, chopped apples for charoset, and followed a recipe she’d clipped from the newspaper for a tri-colored gefilte fish loaf.  Before long, that, too, was covered with Saran and squished in the overflowing fridge, in the kitchen that smelled – as it did every year at this season – like Pesach.

#BlogExodus: Be

We Jews are a kvetchy people.

Tonight, when we gather 'round our seder tables, before the first glass of wine is spilled and before the Four Questions are asked and before the Hillel sandwiches are eaten, let us just be.

Let us be thankful for the friends and family who surround us, whether across the table or across the globe, and for the sweet memories of those whose chairs are now filled by others, but who live always in our hearts.

Let us not worry about whether the matzah balls are sinkers or floaters, but let us be grateful for the abundance of nourishing food we have to sustain our bodies each day.

Let  us not grumble about the wooden folding chair beneath our tushies (or begrudge those who are sitting in padded chairs).  Let us glance appreciatively instead at the ceiling above our heads, recognizing its value not only on this warm spring night, but especially on each of the many frigid nights that preceded it.

Let us put aside the first-world Egypts that challenge us from day-to-day, vowing instead to be...just to be...and to revel in our families, our friends, our freedoms, and the many other blessings that are ours.

Chag Pesach sameach!


Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nissan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Monday, 14 Nissan. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #Exodusgram prompts.

#BlogExodus: Prepare?

Dear The Mums,

Once again, the Jewish world is preparing for Passover -- boiling up chicken soup with matzah balls, buying brisket like it's going out of style, and sweeping nearly year-old chametz crumbs from toaster ovens, countertops, cars, and couch cushions.

For the fourth time, we're doing it without you.  But, truth be told, we're not really doing it.  With Aunt Claire in Detroit, Amy, Daddy, Ian, and I (and perhaps a friend or two of Amy's) will be at Amy's for the first night.  She and Ian will be leaving for DisneyWorld the next day -- it'll be Ian's spring break -- so it's certainly not going to be a full-blown seder.  In fact, I don't think that Daddy will even bring the yellow haggadot that I compiled about eight or nine years ago.  Of course, we'll all be together for dinner, but, as I'm sure you've surmised, we haven't had a full-blown seder since the last one you and Daddy hosted at 12 Webster Road.  Passover was always "your holiday," and the preparations are so very different now.  I think it's what's called the "new normal," but no matter how many times we do it, it will never feel normal to me.  I suppose that's no surprise given that we did all the preparation in 2010, but then didn't celebrate at all.  Sometimes at this time of year, it feels to me as though I am trapped in the Egypt of that particular Pesach season.

Thankfully, as I've been doing for years (but not in 2010), I will once again celebrate the whole megillah on the second night.  From dipping parsley into salt water to washing my hands twice, and from building and eating a Hillel sandwich to dodging bugs and lice and hail and boils as they're bandied about, and finally singing corny songs after the door's been opened for Elijah, rest assured that I'll be among friends who feel like family, observing the second night of Pesach as I have been since moving to New York.

Without much need to prepare for the seder, I am, as has become my minhag, writing to update you on what else has been going on in my life...

On many weekends during the past few months, I have been occupied -- after minyan -- with researching, writing, and editing a large freelance project I was able to secure back in the fall.  The bulk of the work is finished now, although there will be some photo captions to write and some proofing to do a little later in the spring.

About a month ago, Daddy and I went to Baltimore for Mrs. Steinberg's unveiling.  As with you, it was totally surreal to once again stand in the cemetery, trying to wrap our heads around what is supposedly the "new normal."  If you ask me, it just feels empty and sad and different.  In fact, it's anything but normal.

In some happier news, two weekends ago, I was the keynote speaker at a Sisterhood Shabbaton at Congregation Beth Or in Maple Glen, PA, the theme of which was women's health and healing.  I spoke -- as I have several times in the last year or two -- about BRCA mutations and the path I've traveled since finding out that ours is an affected family.  The congregation's not too far from Terry, so we were able to make a weekend of it, which was especially nice because Matthew was home for spring break.  Hard to believe that he's nearly finished with his freshman year.  As an added bonus, Terry was able to hear me speak, and I was glad to have her there.

I've spent a good bit of this weekend getting my new computer (a MacBook Air) up and running.  It's a totally different process than it was seven years ago when I went from a desktop to a wireless laptop, but it seems that it still takes more time than anyone anticipates.   On the positive side, everything runs more smoothly on a Mac, and as I understand things, there's virtually no need for virus protection software because there are no viruses on Mac computers.

There's lots more to tell you about, but it's late and I'm tired.  Suffice it to say that no matter how much we might pretend to prepare for Passover, the holiday's just not the same anymore.  Besides the seder and all the prep, I miss your matzah farfel stuffing, the first morning of the chag at 12 Webster Road, where having finished with the major clean-up the night before, all that remained was to return the wine goblets and the gold flatware to their rightful cabinets and drawers before sitting down to a leisurely cup of coffee, creamy with milk, a tad bit of sugar (used at no other time of year) and soaking bits of matzah farfel -- the quintessential Pesach breakfast...and one of the things I miss most.

xoxo,
~ Boo!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nissan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Monday, 14 Nissan. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #Exodusgram prompts.

#BlogExodus: Time to Spring into Action on the Passover Cooking

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima's #BlogExodus initiative, this is one in an occasional series of posts loosely tied to Passover.

Growing up, Passover was always a big deal in our house…my mother’s favorite holiday.  Two years ago on 14 Nisan, with the table set and all the cooking done, she went into the hospital.  She entered hospice on 6 Sivan (Shavuot) and died on 17 Sivan.  Needless to say, Passover has never been the same.

This year, my sister and I (with help from our Aunt Claire, our mother’s older sister) are making a seder for the first time.  The division of labor looks something like this:

Amy:  Hosting the event, cooking chicken with plums, desserts

Aunt Claire:  Soup, matzah balls, gefilte fish, horseradish (and the shankbone and egg for the seder plate)

(I will #ShowUsYourMatzahBalls via Instagram directly from the seder!)

JanetheWriter:  Brisket, charoset, matzah farfel stuffing (and the seder plate itself—a wedding gift, that until now has remained unused in the box—as well as the orange that will sit atop it, squished between two of the other items)

Although I’m no Tina Wasserman, I hope that I watched my mother enough to do all the cooking “right.”

Here’s my plan:

Tuesday night:  Crock pot brisket, the recipe for which you can find in this post

Wednesday night:  Matzah farfel stuffing, which goes something like this:

Saute a lot of chopped onions (and chopped celery) on low flame until golden (I plan to use three large onions and a few stalks of celery)
Mix together with a one-pound box of matzah farfel stuffing and enough chicken broth to moisten
Add salt and pepper to taste
Spread in a baking dish and sprinkle generously with Hungarian paprika
Bake at 350 for 20-30 minutes until heated through
Serve with gravy from brisket

Friday morning:  Charoset, which goes like this:

Finely chop 3 to 4 apples (I bought Galas)

Add chopped almonds and raisins (I bought the yellow ones)

Moisten with grape juice

Season to taste with cinnamon and a dash of nutmeg

Mix and refrigerate to allow the flavors to blend

If I’m going to do all the cooking I’ve just detailed, I’d better go do the reading for Thursday night’s class right now.

See you in the kitchen…

#BlogExodus: Freedom

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima's #BlogExodus initiative, this is one in an occasional series of posts loosely tied to Passover.

Early this morning, I sent this email to my sister:

At some point this weekend, we must discuss the Passover menu so that I can do the shopping and start cooking.

Here's what I envision:
 
Aunt Claire:  soup, matzo balls, gefilte fish/carrot/potato (like she always makes it)

JEH:  brisket, charoset, asparagus (or some other spring vegetable?), farfel stuffing, Lenox seder plate, Elijah's cup

AEH:  chicken breast, dessert(s)

Miscellaneous:

Horseradish

Seder plate contents:  shank bone, parsley, salt water, lettuce, hard boiled egg, charoset, orange

Daddy to bring from NJ:  Haggadahs, Miriam's cup

Wine/grape juice

Flowers (yellow tulips?)

We'll talk...

Must go to work....xoxo.

For the first time ever, my sister and I are making a seder.  In the spirit of the season, we are, of course, free to do it however we want.  But the seders we knew and loved were always created by our mother and our aunt--except for the matzah balls (floaters, not sinkers!) their mother always made.  

Now, without our mother around to advise and counsel, we’re going to--as is said in the vernacular-- “just wing it.”  

And yet, we’re not really winging it at all.  Despite the freedom we have to do things our own way, when it comes to the seder, we’re following closely in her footsteps and standing gently on her shoulders.  We really couldn’t do it any other way.

I hope that when all is said and done, and we finally sit down at the seder table (replete with a vase of yellow tulips to match the haggadot covers) next Friday night, we will have pulled it off and made our mother proud.

My Passover Match

It soon will be seder,
With friends I will dine,
Lots of good food,
And four cups of wine.
The chair next to mine will be empty that night,
But other than that, my life is just right.

We’ll retell the story,
Of fleeing the place,
Where we were held captive,
And Pharoah lost face.

The onslaught of plagues,
They were not so pretty:
Diseases and locusts,
Frogs, blood and some hail,
Oh how the Israelites wanted to bail.

Alas, I know frogs,
I’ve smooched my fair share.
But none has transformed
To a prince oh-so fair,
Just into warts, on my skin and my hair.

Of all of those kisses,
Not one’s been a hit.
I’m sad to report that most have been misses.
So I’m still alone,
And not part of a pair,
I don’t mean to kvetch,
But it doesn’t seem fair.

Where are you, my mensch?
I’m looking for thee…
Do you think you are the one for me?
I'm smart and I'm funny,
A really good catch,
Perhaps you are my Passover match?

I live on the east side, have a job I adore,
Am seeking a great guy, not asking for more.
Neither too fat nor too thin,
I'm just the right size,
With long curly hair and warm brown eyes.

You are kind and gentle, Jewish and more,
Somewhere near 50, and not a big bore.
You're seeking a woman, a smart one to boot,
To find her online, wouldn't that be a hoot?

You read the Times to get the news,
You care about Israel, what's good for the Jews.
Your family is central, you seder with them,
Some chicken, some matzah and lots of flanken.

You've got your own place, it's filled with great books,
These things are important, as much as your looks.
Your job and your friends, they all are fulfillin',
The only thing missing's a wonderful woman.

You’ll ask the four questions,
You’ll open the door,
You’ll eat lots of matzah,
Sweep the crumbs from the floor.

When the seder’s over,
And you've had your fill,
Drop me a line,
I sure hope that you will.

Answer this post,
There's no time to waste,
If you're not a good typist,
Use Word’s cut and paste.

I hope that you’ll write and tell me the score,
Tell me your name and some things you adore.
Music? The city? Movies and films?
Who are you? What do you do?
What are your dreams for love so true?

We’ll start with these, and if we’re lucky,
Things will go well and all will be ducky.
So send me a post and tell me some more,
And for you, like Elijah, I'll open the door!