Tag Archives: Pesach

Pesach Part IV: the rest of it

Egged Pesach kv"s

You know you're doing it right when you get that Apollo 11 feel.

You’re doing it right when you get that Apollo 11 look.

Notwithstanding our ill-timed trip down south, we managed to get done what needed to get done to get ready for the chag, without undue bloodshed. Pesach is when frum Jews achieve a whole new level of OCD in our religious fanaticism. Lawyers are often accused, correctly, of a tendency to belt-and-suspenders over-cautiousness. Orthodox Jews at Pesach take more of a put-a-belt-and-suspenders-on-a-jumpsuit-then-burn-the-jumpsuit-and-wrap-yourself-in-plastic-and-duct-tape-inside-aluminum-foil approach.

Chametz signYou can find lots of good explanations out there why we do this. “At Pesach time, chametz is compared to the yetzer hara (evil inclination), and we want to be utterly rid of it.” “We were saved from Egypt by virtue of chumras (stringencies), so we commemorate this by piling on the chumras in our Pesach observance.” “Halachically, eating any quantity of chametz – no matter how small – is a violation.” But, of course the real reason is bragging rights. (“Oh, you only triple-wrap your countertops? This is why we don’t mish.”)

 

 

Hagalas keilim. As you can imagine, kids don't find this interesting at all.

Hagalas keilim. As you can see, kids don’t find this interesting at all.

Another great thing about Pesach preparations is that fire is prominently involved. If there are cooking utensils that you want to use for Pesach but have been used for chametz, you have to clean them thoroughly, then do hagala (dunk them in boiling water). Oven racks are heated red-hot with a blowtorch. In Chicago, they set up a place to do this at one of the yeshivos as part of a pre-Pesach fair. In Jerusalem, you’ll see dudes with barrels of boiling-hot water on the street corners.

Here in the Rova, they set up shop in front of the community center. You had to wade through the spectator children to get there. One could cynically observe that they don’t have television… and I guess I just did. But it is really thrilling how the kids get so invested in the excitement of the holiday. For literally thousands of years, Jewish children have been caught up in watching hagala, helping to clean, gathering chametz to be burned, learning to say Mah Nishtanah (the Four Questions), etc., etc. As with pretty much everything, they take their cues from us. Our enthusiasm for Pesach becomes their enthusiasm. And their children’s enthusiasm. And their children’s. And so on, for over 3,300 years.

It is very likely that one of these people had the phone number of the fire department.

It is very likely that one of these people had the phone number of the fire department.

Anyway, back to fire. The day before Pesach, we go through our houses at nightfall, looking for any chametz we may have overlooked (this is called “bedikas chametz“). The next morning, we take all of our remaining chometz and burn it in a giant community bonfire. In the U.S., these fires are closely supervised by local firemen, with at least one fire truck present and ready for action. Here… well, not so much. I’m sure you’re wondering “why burn the chametz instead of just throwing it in the garbage?” To which I say, “what part of ‘giant community bonfire’ don’t you understand?”

Smoke over YerushalayimThe community fire for bi’ur chametz (destruction of chametz) was set up near Sha’ar Tzion (the Zion Gate), adjacent to the Kirk Douglas Sports Area. It’s a walk down the hill from the parking lot. The smoke from the burning chametz was wafting over the city walls, and it brought to mind all the kinds of smoke that have risen over Jerusalem. There were the mighty clouds of the korbanos, the ketores, and the Shechinah… and then the billowing black smoke of the burning Batei Mikdashim, and the whole city ablaze at the hands of rampaging Roman legions. To paraphrase the tefillah we say at the conclusion of learning, “we burn and they burn…” but ours should be for the sake of olam habah.

You thought I was kidding about the Kirk Douglas Sports Area, didn't you?

You thought I was kidding about the Kirk Douglas Sports Area, didn’t you?

Shalom Gershon in his kittel, ready for the seder.

Shalom Gershon in his kittel, ready for the seder.

We were invited out for the seder (another experience for us chutzniks – just one seder!), and we held a family meeting to decide whether to stay home and make our own. Given our usual practice of spending Pesach with family, and friends in the years before that, we’ve never actually made our own seder. We unanimously decided to take this opportunity. In honor of our location, I prepped with the haggadah of Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl, shlita, and the boys came to the seder loaded for bear with their questions.

You would have thought that, with a table of just the four of us (Mordechai was soon off to his crib), things would have gone pretty fast. But the boys were really into it (the candy rewards for questions didn’t hurt), and appreciated the extra attention, and we were still hard-pressed to eat the afikomen before chatzos (halachic midnight, which was at 11:45 p.m. seder night).

As I was sitting at the head of the table, in my kittel, making the yom tov kiddush, it occurred to me that this was the first time anyone in my family had made a seder in Jerusalem in approximately 2,000 years. It was suddenly very difficult to get through shehechiyanu.

Pesach Part III: Eilat!

Yitzi Red SeaAs mentioned previously, cleaning for Pesach is a serious job, one we were not used to because we usually go away for the holiday. Even in this relatively small apartment, we had our hands full. The job was further complicated by the fact that someone in the family had the bright idea that the week before Pesach was the ideal time for a 3-day trip to Eilat.

Hey, look who we found!

Hey, look who we found!

Truth is, we hadn’t anticipated visiting Eilat on this trip. Shopping and sunbathing aren’t high on the list of preferred activities for frum Jews. But the boys had been asking to go see fish in the ocean, and Eilat is definitely the best bet for that. I — er, the person whose idea this trip was — figured that it would be better to go earlier in the season, before it got too hot, crowded, and expensive. The trip itself was very nice. The aquarium there, with an underwater viewing room of the coral reef, is excellent. It was warm enough to be comfortable, but there wasn’t yet a sea of bikinis surrounding us (yes, I know we’re considered weird for seeing this as a benefit). The boys had a good time, other than not having as much time as they wanted at the beach (BTW, they have a very nice separate-gender beach there). And we did manage to get Pesach cleaning done… without getting divorced.

Y&S boat

 

Shalom eggYitzi turtle

Pesach Part II: matzah baking

Finished productI’m not a lazy blogger – I’m abating the tendency of blogs to push media into hyper-speed. I’m giving time to allow events to be put in historical perspective. I am a pioneer. A hero.

Anyway, with the luxury of time and perspective, I now feel free to share my experience in matzah baking.

Matzah halacha sederThe yeshivah organized a group trip to bake handmade matzah together, at the bakery in the basement of the massive Belz synagogue. In order to go, you had to take time in the prior weeks learning (and being tested on) selected halachos (laws) of making matzah. The law in this area is very detailed, and is primarily designed to ensure that the matzah definitely contains no chametz. The precautions taken to prevent it from leavening include taking no more than 18 minutes from the time the flour is mixed with water until the matzah is finished; constantly working the dough (kneading it, rolling it, etc.) before baking; rolling it very thin; and cooking in an extremely-hot, wood-fired oven.

YYS with the woodI brought Yitzi along for the experience, and he was thrilled. I didn’t actually see much of him, though, at the bakery because I had the boring job of working the dough while waiting for the rollers to be ready to start on it. He spent most of his time by the oven, which also included getting to sample the matzos that were invalidated for use on Pesach for one reason or another.

It was a pretty tiring, intense experience actually. The dough would start coming out, and we’d work frantically, working it and cranking out matzos for 18 minutes, trying to keep up with the pace of dough coming to the table. At 18 minutes, we’d stop, and switch to the other tables that guys had been scrubbing clean during the previous shift. Notably, the important jobs (e.g., doing the final rolling and getting the matzos into and out of the oven) were done by ringers. It also wasn’t cheap, as we had to rent the bakery and hire the ringers. But I was able to make my seder with matzos I’d helped make. Pretty cool. Here are some more pics & video:

Before we started, we even cut our nails to make sure no dough would get stuck under there and make our matzos chometz.

Before we started, we even cut our nails to make sure no dough would get stuck under there and make our matzos chometz.

Ready, set... go!

Ready, set… go!

The assembly line.

The assembly line.

Scrubbing the tables clean between shifts.

Scrubbing the tables clean between shifts.

Cleaning the rollers while we work feverishly in the background.

Cleaning the rollers while we work feverishly in the background.

Into the oven.

Into the oven.

The final touches to the baked matzos.

The final touches to the baked matzos.

The crew kicks back after a job well done.

The crew kicks back after a job well done.

Pesach, Part I: Preparation

Getting ready for Pesach is challenging under any circumstances. You have clean the house thoroughly for chametz, going room-by-room, and then take measures to prevent re-contamination. You have to do a tremendous amount of shopping, essentially re-stocking your food supply in its entirely, since everything has to be certified kosher-for-Pesach and cannot have been opened (for fear that it was contaminated with chametz), not to mention all of the food needed for the holiday (and Shabbos chol hamoed) meals. Oh, and you’ll need candy to give the children for good questions & answers at the seder, which really keeps them interested. All the laundry and dry cleaning needs to get done, because (except for kids’ clothes), you can’t do it even on chol hamoed. This is also a traditional time to get new clothes – in honor of the holiday, and because shopping for other-than-holiday needs also can’t be done on chol hamoed. You’ll also want to get presents (toys and books) for the kids before Pesach. Then there’s all the cooking, which can’t be done until at least part of the kitchen is cleaned and prepped to make it free of chametz.

Manifestly unbreakable if it can withstand a pre-Pesach shutdown of Jerusalem.

Manifestly unbreakable if it can withstand a pre-Pesach shutdown of Jerusalem.

Here in Jeruslaem, basically the entire city (probably the entire country) is out shopping en masse for the weeks leading up to Pesach. So, of course, this was the perfect time for a street-closing, traffic-jamming, city-paralyzing visit from the President of the United States! To be clear, on the whole, Israelis were and are glad for the trip (and many of his remarks were well-received). But there was a lot of grumbling about the timing. Case in point, I heard a woman on the bus refer sardonically to the upcoming Tuesday as “Yom Slishi, Erev Obama” (“Tuesday, ‘Obama Eve'”).

Obama: flagsThe President steered clear of the Old City, and we planned shopping locations around his visit, so we were largely unaffected. We did come back a bit early from our own ill-timed trip to Eilat (post coming) so that we could return the rental car to our local Hertz, right next to the King David Hotel where Obama stayed, before they closed down the street. The only other evidence of his trip for us were a lot of loud helicopter overflights for those few days. I tried to convince the boys that we were going to invite Obama over, since he’d be glad to hang out with some Chicagoans all the way over here, but they have become wise to my deceptions.

Jonathan Pollard has become a major cause célèbre here, and there were signs all over pushing for his pardon. I really don’t want this blog to get political (and I’m not putting up with any comment wars!) but, FWIW, my thoughts on the topic jibe fairly well with this.

Obama: Yes You CanObama: Shelach Et Achi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For those of us in the Rova, Pesach preparations were further complicated by a music festival whose timing and necessity were highly questionable. And, to my great amusement, both were indeed questioned in the English version of a notice to Rova residents from the police deparment. The Hebrew side of the notice seemed to play it straight, so I’m assuming that they asked some Anglo Rova resident to do the English version, with this result:

Rova parking notice

Although we managed to work around these complications, Pesach prep was an intensive experience. Being that this was our only Pesach here, we had no sets of dishes, cookware, or appliances for use on Pesach. We usually go to our cousins in New Jersey for the holiday, so we hadn’t had to do a complete house cleaning, including flipping the kitchen, in years. We also had to learn the ropes in terms of all of the extra kashrus issues there are here in Israel on Pesach.

In fact, Pesach shopping here was far more difficult than in Chicago. Lots of otherwise kosher-for-Pesach products here contain kitniyos (grain-like and legume products that are prohibited during Pesach to Ashkenazic Jews, for reasons described at the link), which Sephardim can eat. Given that half of Israeli Jews (and probably more than half of kosher-keeping Israeli Jews) are Sephardim, I understand the prevalence of kitniyos products. But why in the world do they put kitniyos in products – like macaroons – that no self-respecting Sephardi would eat?

Pesach hechsher madnessEven aside from the kitniyos issue, the mehadrin (higher level) hashgachos (kosher supervision/certification) here went crazy for Pesach. For example, on a tremendous number of products under the supervision of the (mehadrin) Eida Charedis, its hashgacha specifically excluded Pesach. This left them under Rabbanut supervision alone, which we don’t rely upon. In a few situations, it seems the reason was a halachic difference of opinion, such as with diet pop, because the Israeli mehadrin hashgacha considers aspartame to be kitniyos while the Rabbanut (and American hashgachos) do not. But there were other situations (like that pictured at right) where the Eida Charedis excluded Pesach, while a different mehadrin hashgacha (here, Chasam Sofer) did certify for Pesach, including that there were no kitniyos. Why the Eida Charedis said “no” is a mystery.

Between all of the kitniyos and mehadrin hashgacha issues, we never were able to find any margarine, pickles, olives, salad dressing, or non-beet horseradish. We found almost no cookies or macaroons (who would have thought that I’d ever be complaining about trouble finding macaroons?). Only at the last minute did I find candy to hand out at the seder. I don’t think we found any spreads, other than date spread, to put on matzah. All of this despite the fact that I even went up to shop at the big American-style Yesh supermarket in Ramat Eshkol.

By contrast, in Chicago (or NJ) I would readily have found all of this, and more. I’m certainly not complaining about spending Pesach here – to the contrary, it was wonderful – but the kashrus situation in Israel is ridiculous, and beyond ridiculous when it comes to Pesach and Ashkenazim.

Well, that sure was a whiny post… Pesach positivity to come soon in future Parts, IY”H!

Oh, yeah, we live right by Har Habayis

It is surprisingly easy to get blasé about living in the Old City. Even in the shadow of the holiest place on earth, day-to-day routine takes over. Omnipresent tourists and what-should-be-surreal surroundings don’t prevent the Rova from becoming the neighborhood. Two-thousand-year-old column fragments are just another place to stop and tie your shoes. The local shtiebel, where you can easily grab a minyan, also happens to be the over-700-year-old Ramban synagogue.

So you have to keep your eyes open for chances to really take advantage of the location, and remind yourself where you are. Although I usually don’t do my davening at the Kosel, on Erev Pesach, I specifically went there for mincha. After mincha, I stood at the Wall and recited the Order of the korban Pesach (consisting primarily of the mishnayos that describe the procedure), a little overwhelmed at the thought that, if the Beis Hamikdash were standing, I would be only a short distance away, up on Har Habayis, with my korban.[1] Jewish cultural memory is very strong. We haven’t brought a korban Pesach in 2,000 years, but it feels like we stopped yesterday, and are ready to resume tomorrow.

Although our seder went well past midnight, I decided to drag myself out of bed for the vasikin minyan at the Churva synagogue. I enjoy davening there, but the reason I dragged myself out of bed after about 3 1/2 hours of sleep (services started at 4:54 a.m.) was the post-shacharisaliyah leregel.” There is a mitzvah in the Torah to go up to the Beis Hamikdash in Jerusalem on three holidays – PesachShavuosand Succos (the “shalosh regalim“). Today, when there is no Temple, the mitzvah is not operative, but the Zilbermans (who run Yitzi’s school and, effectively, the Churva) organize an outing in remembrance of the mitzvah on each of the regalim. After the vasikin minyan, a group of us gathered up and (with police escort) walked into the Muslim Quarter, to a shuk that ended in steps up to a huge double-door opening onto Har Habayis, facing where the Kadosh Hakedoshim (central, most holy part of the Beis Hamikdash) stood. The doors were closed, but a smaller door-within-a-door was open. At that time of the morning, the shuk was closed, making it an empty, dark tunnel. We walked into the shuk, continuing the on-and-off singing since we’d left the Churva. Striding along towards Har Habayis, singing “Ki Va Moed,” with literally a bright light at the end of the tunnel, was a spine-tingling taste of what we hope is soon to come.

The police let us approach in small groups, go up the steps, and peer through the door. All you could really see was a courtyard and the base of the Dome of the Rock, but it was amazing. As each group finished looking, they joined the rest in a huge circle of singing and dancing in the dark shuk. I made my way home and crawled into bed for a few hours more sleep before lunch.