Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Passover is a Pain in the Ass: Roast Lamb, Cauliflower Kugel, Moroccan Carrots

I hosted my first family seder last week. My Dad's a yeshiva boy, and I haven't belonged to a temple since my bat mitzvah, so it was bound to be a little touch-and-go. I chose to focus on the meal, and the ceremonial foods, as that was in my wheelhouse. Here's what I learned:

There's a reason no one in my family has done Passover since my grandmother passed the point of capable. It is a major pain in the tucchus. No really, I'll take Thanksgiving, Christmas, even latke frying any day of the week compared to the labor involved in Passover. Easter Ham? Please, people. I can rock that it in my sleep.

A key difference is that at Passover, you're required to sit around a table reading the story of Jewish servitude. That's cool, I like reading and I like stories. But the table's gotta be something worthy of having your relatives schlep miles to sit around. It's gotta look good. Ironed tablecloth, possibly a runner, flowers, glasses, China. Cloth napkins. Water pitchers. Wine. Now I'm not above the occasional paper plate, but this is Passover, and family elders were driving miles to be here. Go big or go home.

During the meal, there are all these food props. The seder plate, a stack of crumbly matzoh that gets cracked and hidden. Seasonal greens, hardboiled eggs, heck, even a salty dipping sauce. Haroset, maror, then we all dive into a make-your-own sandwich bar right before before dinner. Wine, wine and more wine.

Then, we can start thinking about the festive meal: a four course delight starting with gefilte fish and horseradish, roast chicken soup with matzoh balls, roast leg of lamb, kugel, and more. Oh, and here's a little wrench for added fun: you're not allowed to reach for any cook-comforts like flour, breadcrumbs, challah, rice, beans. Good luck with that.

For the desserts -- unless you're a masochist -- you ask someone to bring. Passover desserts are a craft unto their own; luckily I have a gifted baker cousin who was willing to buy that box of matzoh meal and make the magic happen. Alternatively, you can call your local Jewish bakery, or buy dried fruits and nuts and punt. Whatever you do, you must have those corn-syruppy fruit-slice jelly candies and macaroons. Because they're memories, and no one counts calories on Pesach.

Here's why it's worth doing. There was a moment of organization before the event, where I discussed with my Dad who'd be leading the service. I had a hagaddah, all marked up with stickies. Now, it's Jewish custom that the elder man at the table runs...everything, so I handed him the baton. He demurred, until we hit page 4 and it was time to say the blessing over the wine. The service would be his from then until the birkat hamazon (grace after meals).

And that is why the tsimmes (fuss) is worth it. To see my father, amidst his family, caught up in the moment, reliving his 60-something years of Passovers before, in the here and now. As always, the food is simply the backdrop for the experience. But as you're cleaning the 75th dish of the night, remember -- it's that care that allowed the moment to happen.


Anchovy Roast Leg of Lamb

Cauliflower Leek Kugel


Moroccan Carrots
Serves 4
Adapted from Einav Gefen

1 pound carrots, peeled and cut into “coins”
1 clove garlic, minced
1 scallion, thinly sliced
2 Tablespoons chopped parsley
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
1 Tablespoon finely chopped mint
¼ cup olive oil
pinch ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cumin
pinch red pepper flakes
1-2 teaspoons honey, as desired
salt for boiling water, plus more to taste
freshly ground black pepper

1. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Add 1 tablespoon salt and carrots, boil for 2-3 minutes, until the rawness is gone, but the carrot is still firm. Drain.

2. Meanwhile, combine garlic, scallions, parsley, ginger, juices, mint, olive oil, cinnamon, cumin, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Pour over carrots and marinate until ready to serve. Taste, and add honey if needed. Serve warm, room temperature or chilled.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Allison,

One cherished tradition, that I learned from my mother, is after you've finished cleaning your house, getting rid of any trace of leavened crumbs that might have made their way into the linen closet closet, or medicine cabinet, after you've removed your non passover dishes and pots and pans and groceries, after you've lined every surface, after you've hauled all the passover dishes, pots, pans and utensils up from the basement, and then cooked meals to last for three days, you pour yourself a glass of wine, trudge upstairs and yell "this is the last god-damned time we do this hell! Next year we're going to Florida!"

Happy passover!

-Yael

6:57 AM  
Blogger Culinary Wannabe said...

Sounds like you had a wonderful dinner! For all the hoopla of holidays like these, it really is all about the family. BTW - I wanted to say I saw your article in Glamour! How exciting!!

1:43 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You're back and I love it. Thanks for the blog it touched my heart....and tummy.

11:08 AM  

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