Some may ask, "What's a seder"? You know, those who know how to find this blog, but to whom Wikipedia remains beyond comprehension. No, it's not a tree. It's a Jewish ritual feast on Passover. I'll let the Commander in Chief
break it down for you. Go ahead, I'll await. I have time. *
whistling*
1 Anyhow, a co-worker invited me to his home for my first seder this year. Naturally, I insisted on adding red pepper and photographing everything. This proved less contentious than one might have expected.
Behold, the seder plate (with a minor addition by me).
Sacriclicious.
As the Passover Seder is heavy on tradition, I'll depart with tradition for this post and do away with the usual "WITHOUT RED PEPPER," "WITH RED PEPPER," and "THE VERDICT" headings. If you miss it too much, feel free to stop reading now and wait for the next installment. (Though you should be sure to check the date of the immediately preceding entry. You might be waiting awhile.) Here are a few courses where the addition of red pepper proved to be a particularly good idea.
First, the matzo.
It's unleavened bread. There's not much to it. That's kind of
the point. But let's assume that both the Israelites and the poor had and have access to red pepper. With respect to the former, surely there's scholarship out there on the possibility. As to the latter, I must remember to donate more red pepper to the food bank. At any rate, the point here is that the red pepper managed to breathe some life into the matzo. Somehow, though, this felt like cheating.
Next up, the
charoset. The simplest way to attempt this word is to pretend there's no "c" in it - "huh-row-set." To be accurate, there's a bit of a guttural aspect to the first sound. Read it however you like. This is a blog, so I don't have to attempt it myself, and that suits me just fine.
The main purpose of charoset in the context of the meal was to ease the eating of the bitter herb. In our case, horseradish. Which, for me, is an excellent choice for a representation of the bitterness and harshness of slavery. I HATE horseradish. There is a bit of horseradish somewhere on the pictured plate. Completely buried. It was an attempt at cheating, but failed. The horseradish still came through it all. What does the red pepper add? Well,
something. It's the sweet and spicy. Pretty great. At least when there was no horseradish present.
Finally, the beitzah. (That's a hard boiled egg to the uninitiated, such as myself 36 hours ago. Well, I remain uninitiated into Judaism, but
am initiated in the idiomatic sense that I know what the word means.)
This might be the least difficult to imagine. Pepper on eggs is common; red pepper, divine.
THE BOTTOM LINE
If you find yourself at a Seder, and your hosts are obliging, start tossing the red pepper on everything! By the fourth glass of wine - whatever it's
supposed to represent - you're not apt to notice (or remember) much of a difference. Spice things up!
1 Views expressed in the video, oral or written, represent those of the video's creator and not this blogger.