Found Bill AND a lamb roast!

I found Bill at the airport (I was on time, his flight was 20 minutes early), and we started on our way home, with a side trip to Kroger's.

We had success in the meat department, where apparently Kroger's has cornered the market on semi-boneless lamb legs this week. Of course, as with all quests, sacrifice was required. Bill asked if we needed to go to the bank first to get a loan to purchase said roast. The price was indeed breathtaking, but I was on a roll. We also found some sad, lonely packages of matzoh on a top shelf ("Not for Passover use"), and I grabbed one just in case I can't find any approved matzoh bread here in Rog-Vegas.

Since I am not really bonafide Jewish (though Mom has her suspicions that the Spelmans on her side of the family were assimilated), I can futz with the rules a little. Early on in my Passover cooking adventures, I called a friend in California for her recipe for Galician gefilte fish. "First," she said, "ask your fishman for a nice piece of whitefish."

"Fishman?" I replied, aghast, "Do you have any idea where I am in New York? I'm lucky to find a piece of frozen cod in the grocery! We're landlocked here!" Using what was available, I found that gefilte fish tastes so much better with the addition of crab (shellfish are definitely not kosher). The kids dubbed it gefilte-crab, and it's been part of our family tradition ever since. It's kind of like a Jewish crab cake, oxymoronic to be sure, but delicious.

Another traditional dish is Matzoh Ball Soup, but my matzoh balls leave so much to be desired. I don't have the knack for light-and-fluffy. Mine are more like lead shot, sinking to the bottom of the bowl of chicken broth. So, I may just "forget" to make the soup this year. Better to stick to what I do well.

The kids' favorite was always the Charoset, a sticky melange made with chopped apples, wine, walnuts and cinnamon, symbolic of the mortar used to build the edifices of Egypt, while the Hebrews were enslaved there. Everything about the meal is symbolic--the hardboiled egg and parsley for Spring, dipped in the salt water (tears); the horseradish tinted red with beets, signifying the bitterness of slavery; the unleavened bread, matzoh, because they had to flee Egypt before the bread could rise; the gelfilte fish for the parting of the Red Sea.

When I was very pregnant with Juli (she was born April 16), Bill and I went to Passover Seder at Cathy and Eric's house. It was Bill's first Seder. As we were just into the ceremony, Bill took a big forkful of the horseradish before I could warn him about the heat of it. Tears sprang to his eyes, and everyone at the table noted with approval of how the story of Exodus affected the goy newcomer, not realizing he was struggling mightily just to catch his breath, because his tongue was on fire.

What I love about Jewish ceremonies is that they are family celebrations, conducted by individuals in the sanctity of the home, without the necessity of intervention by authorized religious personnel, the covenant sealed with food. Each individual is charged with the responsibility of keeping the tradition alive, of passing the stories on to their children. Passover is especially significant, because it celebrates freedom and deliverance. The Last Supper was a Passover Seder; my family's observance is an homage to human perserverance, and the debt that Christianity owes to its Jewish heritage.