The condiments of Pesach

MICHELLE DODEK

My parents believed strongly in the concept of opening our home to others and often had Shabbat dinners and seders with random people who added different flavors to each festive meal.

When I was around 10 years old, they invited a family to our seder whose father was a real character. He went on and on about how his grandmother’s handmade chrain (horseradish) was so powerful that it had trained him to be resistant to even the most potent horseradish. My sweet mother kindly cautioned him that this hot pink jar of Streits chrain seemed quite strong.

“No chrain from a jar is remotely hot for me!” he boasted. We all watched as he piled a huge blob of the condiment that is supposed to make us feel the bitterness of the life of the Jews in Egypt onto his tiny piece of matzah. Our eyes and mouths opened and we salivated in sympathy as he popped his creation into his mouth casually. The silence in our dining room could have rivaled the moment that the Angel of Death swept through Egypt when this poor braggart’s face went from its usual pallor to one shade darker than the beet-colored horseradish. His eyes watered, he began to sweat profusely but he didn’t make a peep. In fact, he was mercifully quiet for a significant portion of the festive seder meal. I remember this incident to this day. That is the power of maror (bitter herbs).

Passover is full of symbolism in its foods but it is the condiments that we use to dip and spread that create the most active responses: the maror, salt water and charoset. These condiments prepare us for the festive meal, they torture and treat us as part of the story of the Exodus from Egypt. Our ancestors knew about the multi-sensory teaching approach long before educational psychologists wrote books on this subject. As we listen and eat at the seder table, our hearing, taste, smell, touch and sight are activated and we strongly identify with the story we recall year after year.

Consider the different things and ways we can learn from these three condiments. The maror is bitter. It represents the bitterness in the lives of the Hebrew slaves. We recite this quote from the Torah and associate it with the maror, “And the Egyptian treated us wickedly and afflicted us, and laid upon us hard bondage.” (Deuteronomy 26:6) The very next sentence in the Torah mentions, “And we cried out,” using a verb that implies not only a cry for help, but also a cry of pain. This brings us directly to the salt water, which reminds us of the tears the Hebrew slaves shed.

The word of the Torah is reinforced through tasting the salty water and the bitter herbs. There is more to learn. Sweat is also salty water, so we can think of the hard labor of our ancestors when we eat the salt water.

Ironically, or perhaps intentionally, salt water in the context of the ocean is also a symbol of life. We dip the karpas, a spring-time vegetable, into the salty water and it can taste fairly unpleasant, depending which vegetable you use as the symbol; however, when we serve the hard-boiled egg, another symbol of life, fertility, continuity and hope, with the salt water later in the meal, the salt water enhances the taste of the egg.

All of this dipping and tasting is, according to some authorities, a reference to the customs of our ancient ancestors and is not only a tribute to them but also meant to arouse the curiosity of the children at the table. This dipping-evoked curiosity leads naturally to the asking of the Four Questions, an intrinsic part of the seder.

As much as the seder is a ritualized meal, so the objects used to display the many special food items have become specialized. It is interesting to note that there are many lovely sets of porcelain vessels designated to hold the salt water and maror. These two condiments, which provide us with salty sadness and bitterness, respectively, are paired, while the sweet-tasting charoset must sit in a container apart.

The charoset is meant to symbolize the bricks and mortar that the Hebrew slaves used to make the structures for the Pharaoh. Considering the bitterness of the work, symbolized by the bitter herb and its bitter taste, why are the bricks and mortar a delicious treat? Perhaps because the charoset is the last of the condiments used, the one that heralds the Hebrews escape from Egypt, the one that tantalizes us toward our freedom. When eaten during the seder, the maror is dipped in the charoset but the blessing only mentions the commandment to eat the maror. We are told to temper the bitterness with the sweet taste but the bitterness is the part that is recognized in the blessing. What does this say about our people and traditions?

This year, as you celebrate Pesach and observe its traditions and those of your family, also consider how your senses are being stimulated. Enjoy the salty, the bitter and the sweet, and note how they influence your experience of the seder and its meanings.

Each of the following recipes makes about four cups, and tastes great on matzah all week long.

SEPHARDI NUT-FREE CHAROSET

1 orange (wash with soap and hot water)
2 cups pitted dates
1 1/2 cup figs
2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tbsp sweet wine

Cover the whole orange in water in a small pot. Boil for an hour. Remove from the water and purée the entire orange with dates, figs and wine. Voila!

ASHKENAZI CHAROSET

3 cups grated apples
1 cup chopped roasted walnuts
1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 cup sweet red wine (Manischewitz is best)
1 tbsp packed brown sugar
Juice of half a lemon

Mix all the ingredients together.

EGYPTIAN CHAROSET

1 pound raisins
8 oz pitted dates
2 cups water, approximately
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup chopped almonds

Combine raisins and dates in a bowl. Add two cups water (or enough to cover). Let stand overnight. Drain. Place mixture in food processor or blender. Add sugar and process until mixture is well chopped. Serve sprinkled with almonds.

Michelle Dodek is a freelance writer who loves Pesach. She has nut- and raw apple-allergic siblings who love her Sephardi charoset.

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