Process: Remove the regular racks and store them away until after Pesach. Wash out the dishwasher very well and then do not use it for twenty-four hours. Run the dishwasher through a complete cycle at its hottest temperature. Insert the special Pesach racks. Remember to switch racks again after the eighth day.
When it comes to porcelain interiors, there is less accord. Interestingly, the Israeli chief rabbinate ruled more than a dozen years ago that porcelain dishwashers could be kashered in the same manner as metal ones. The American Orthodox rabbinate, however, is very divided on the issue.
Smaller appliances. Electric coffee makers can be kashered by hagalah if no chametz-based coffee was used in them during the year.
Food processors. The word is getting better every year. Five years ago, when food processors first came out for home use, several rabbis pronounced they could not be kashered. Now that processors are more common items in the Jewish kitchen, there has been closer rabbinic scrutiny of the matter. Today, most rabbis agree that processors may be kashered if they are dismantled and attended to properly. Dismantling is a simple process. The Pyrex or plastic bowls can be kashered through hagalah; the metal parts through libun; the blade, libun or hagalah; the motor, washed perfectly clean. The dough-mixing attachments, however, are not kashered and not used.
The same procedure applies to a blender.
People often keep separate blender jars and food-processing bowl and blades for Pesach. All they have to do is lock away their year-round parts and wipe the motor base clean before setting up the Pesach attachments
Kitchen surfaces. Table and counter tops made of Formica or wood are washed clean and then covered with a plastic or oilcloth.
A baby high chair should be washed thoroughly and its tray covered with contact paper.
Sinks are scoured well, including the sink drains. They are then not to be used with hot water for twenty-four hours. After that period has elapsed, the sink is cleaned again, hot water run over its surface, and then kashered by means of irui—boiling water poured over every inch of sink surface, spigots, and faucet. Porcelain enamel sinks cannot be kashered through irui. In those instances, only the spigots, faucet, and drain are kashered by pouring boiling water over them, and the sink itself is lined with plastic or wooden sink liners.
SHOPPING FOR PESACH
When I was a young child, growing up in Seattle, Washington, there was an aura of mystery about acquiring foods for Pesach. I remember that my grandfather made his own wine in a little porch at the back of his small frame house. Before Pesach my father and four of his brothers would take us children out to a farm for Pesach. There, they would milk the cows and bring home enough milk for each of their families. My grandmother made her own sweet cream and sour cream. When the children would visit, she would always serve us thick sour cream and silky raspberry jam, all homemade. There was no such thing as Passover cakes and rolls, as they have nowadays, nor was there butter. On Pesach, my mother made a delicious avocado spread, which we ate on matzah. It was the only time during the year that we ate avocado. To this day, I think Pesach when I eat avocados in December.
Today, there is no mystique in shopping for Pesach. Everything that one can buy kosher all year long is available for Pesach—and then some. Supermarkets have whole aisles set up with kosher for Passover foods. All manner of cheeses, sauces, canned and frozen prepared foods, spices, desserts, baby foods, and even something to fool the gods—Pesach noodles!
Still, one cannot throw all caution to the winds when shopping for this holiday. First, not every label of rabbinic supervision can be unconditionally relied upon. Simply a stamp marked KOSHER FOR PASSOVER or KP or even an individual rabbi’s name or the ordinary K are not secure enough. One has to check further.
Second, a lot more things require supervision than one would imagine. Would you think that plain ground pepper would not require a hechsher (rabbinic certification)? Well, it does. In general, canned goods, processed foods, condiments, spices, and beverages require rabbinic supervision.
And so do all baked goods. During the last few years, as the celebration of Passover has grown, there have been unscrupulous bakeries that sell special cakes for Passover, advertising them to the hilt, when in reality these cakes are no different from their yearlong confections and are the antithesis of what Pesach observance is all about. Perhaps the bakers justify themselves by claiming that all they intend to do is to cash in on the holiday spirit in true American entrepreneurial fashion. But still, the unaware buyer must be protected. Unless a bakery thoroughly cleaned out every bit of its year-round chametz, and unless it is under rabbinic supervision, and changes its ingredients, its Passover cakes are not kosher.
Third, and to make matters more confusing, not everything that is marketed as such and that has a reliable stamp of supervision actually requires it; for example: pure tea, pure coffee (100 percent with no additives), eggs, sugar, and salt; also pure fruit juices other than grape juice; and dairy products that are year-round kosher, such as milk, butter, sour cream, cottage cheese, and farmer cheese need no special Pesach label if purchased before the holiday. Similarly, products such as soaps, paper goods, and aluminum foil that we use all year long require no additional certification. Kosher meat, poultry, and fish need no special hechsher either. These can be bought well in advance of the holiday, when prices are lower, rinsed under cold water, and stored in a plastic bag in the freezer. And of course all fresh fruits and vegetables need no special supervision.
COSTS
The food bills at Pesach time are gruesome. This is so for several reasons: we have to stock our pantries from scratch; there is a minimum of ten festival meals, often with company (two meals each on the first two and last two days, plus two on Shabbat); much wine is used for each seder. And then there is the pricing of foods. Not only do fish and meat prices jump, as a result of supply and demand—or what the kosher market will bear—but also foods with a seal of rabbinic supervision are higher priced. Over the years, I have kept general track of food inflation by mentally noting the approximate cost per grocery bag. In my supermarket, I figure it now costs an average of ten dollars per bag. At Pesach time, however, the cost jumps to almost fifteen dollars per bag.
Some of the expenses of Pesach will be neutralized the week following the holiday, when we mingle our “repurchased” chametz supplies with our Pesach pantry leftovers, and when we all go on diets after so many matzah balls. Besides that, however, there are several things one can do to bring the cost down a bit: (1) if freezer space allows, buy meat and fish two weeks before the prices go up. (2) Don’t overbuy. It helps to do your advance Pesach shopping starting out with a detailed list in hand and two pizzas and a large Coke in your stomach. (3) Instead of buying canned fruits and vegetables, which are exceedingly high with the Passover label, buy fresh produce. (4) Cut down on the size of meals; make a menu and stick to it. (5) On foods that are permissible to buy without the Passover label—such as pure fruit juices, tea, sugar, club soda, honey, frozen vegetables—judge your purchases in terms of the price differential.
And finally, on processed foods that require a Passover label: certainly it costs more to produce a small quantity of rabbinically supervised food just for Pesach. For those who can afford it in a particular year, it is fine that everything is available. For those who can’t afford it, that’s okay too. Our grandparents managed quite well on Pesach without such items as anchovies, dried apricots, mushroom soup mix, pickles, potato chips, cranberry sauce, ice cream, and sherbet. One year I thought I must have every one of those items, or my poor family and guests would feel deprived! The next year, I was determined to keep my costs down so I bought none of those items. And still we ate like royalty!
Nor did I feel resentful the week before Pesach as I passed these items by on the supermarket shelves. On the contrary, I was pleased to see such a variety of prepared Passover foods available. I only hope they’ll be there next year, when I’ll feel the pinch of inflation less. T
he fact that I, and others like me, exercised an individual power of check and balance in a free-market system allows me to believe the prices won’t move too far beyond my reach by next Pesach. There’s really no price gouging if no one is forcing me to buy the luxury extras.
WOMEN AND PESACH
Several years ago, after I had tried without success to get on a quiz show that gave away fantastic prizes, I had a most vivid dream. I had won the jackpot, and the quizmaster rotated before my eyes a house that was the exact twin of mine. Every corner was spotless, the closets filled with holiday clothing—everything hemmed—color-coordinated ribbons, lacy knee socks and shiny black patent Mary Janes for the girls, white shirts and perfectly pressed pants for the boys. The kitchen cupboards were stuffed with kosher for Passover foods. All of my ancient Pesach pots and pans were in their proper places. The refrigerator had plastic containers labeled MATZAH BALLS, CHICKEN SOUP, GEFILITE FISH. The seder table was beautifully set with my own Pesach dishes. There were pillows at everyone’s chair for reclining. The quizmaster then presented the key to me and, like any good winner, I screamed and hugged him and cried tears of joy. The tears awoke me instantly, to my great dismay, for I wanted to stay longer with that dream.
My husband chuckled when I reported the dream to him, but my “housewife colleagues” were stunned into silence by the sheer gloriousness of it all. It was, I realized, the absolute and ultimate fantasy of every Jewish housewife.
I have spent an inordinate amount of time in a discussion of preparation, because that’s what it takes to get ready. By now, the reader has guessed why the section above was entitled, “For Men Only.” Traditional Jewish women know exactly the procedures outlined above. And while many men know the law in theory, they are not familiar with it in practice. Nor do they have any idea of the time, energy, and planning it takes to clean closets, move furniture, store utensils, boil, kasher, shop, inspect labels, cook, bake … I recall when the wife of an illustrious and brilliant rabbi was taken ill, two weeks before Pesach, and had to be confined to a hospital bed. The rabbi had to move out of their house with their three children for the duration because he could not possibly “make Pesach”; this, despite the fact that it was he to whom a hundred women had turned with questions on kashering for Pesach.
My mother used to say that the Jewish housewife was the only one who didn’t go out of bondage on Pesach. Happily, today, more men are sharing in household tasks, including preparation for Pesach. Others, men and women more resistant to changing their ways and inherited roles, have presumably worked things out to their mutual satisfaction. At the very least, those who do not participate equally should appreciate a bit more those who labor in the home. They ought to give life-experience credit to a woman who has made Pesach. Even though no one will understand it, I think I shall add “made Pesach twenty-two times” to my résumé.
Having said all that, I would like to offer these suggestions, particularly for women who have traditionally masterminded the entire operation, and who now work outside the home as well:
1. Make a master list of everything that must be done, then divide or negotiate up front exactly who does what.
2. Announce to other members of the family that when it’s work time for Pesach no one sits until you sit. If they’ve finished one task, they should come and ask, “What can I do now?”
3. Say to yourself, and to your family: “I shall not work on Pesach preparation unless at least one member of the family works alongside me.”
Even if you stick to these rules only 50 percent of the time, it will make a difference between coming into Pesach exhausted like a slave or exhilarated like a free person.
Part III—Spiritual Preparation
While the spiritual preparation is nowhere near as demanding as the physical (although what is ridding our lives of chametz if not a spiritual preparation????), it, too, begins well in advance. In the six-week period preceding Pesach, there are five special Sabbaths. Four are entitled after the special Torah reading of that Shabbat; the fifth takes on luster because of its proximity to the holiday itself. All together, the five Sabbaths serve as a kind of countdown toward Pesach.
First comes Shabbat Shekalim. Its special Torah portion recalls the donation of a shekel to the Temple economy, a form of communal membership dues. The second Shabbat, which precedes Purim, is called Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of Remembrance: “Remember what the Amalekites [from whom Haman descended] did unto you …” as your ancestors tried to cross the desert. The third is Shabbat Parah, when we read about the ritual of the Red Heifer, the ceremony of symbolic purification of the people. We are reminded to purify ourselves morally and also to begin the purification rites for Pesach. Finally, there is Shabbat Hachodesh (the month). It is the Shabbat prior to the first of the month of Nissan. The Torah readings describe the fixing of Nissan as well as the regulations and preparations for Pesach.
As if that countdown weren’t enough, there is one more Shabbat. It is called Shabbat Hagadol, the Great Sabbath, the one immediately preceding Pesach. A number of traditions have sprung up concerning Shabbat Hagadol: that it was on this Sabbath that the Jews of Egypt sprinkled a few drops of lamb’s blood on their doorposts signaling the Angel of Death to pass over the Jewish households without afflicting the firstborn; on this Shabbat, the rabbi would hold a long and learned discourse and also answer questions about Pesach.
Today, on Shabbat Hagadol, most Orthodox synagogues conclude Shacharit services quite early; people go home for lunch, a nap, and then return in the late afternoon for the rabbi’s Shabbat Hagadol presentation, a learned discourse that is related to Pesach. Many rabbis will give their congregations an advance list of textual references so they can come to the session prepared.
MAOT CHITTIN
This literally means “money for wheat.” It is a requisite charitable contribution over and above one’s normal gifts of tzedakah. Every synagogue and every Jewish organization has a Maot Chit-tin drive before Pesach. The funds enable poorer Jews to have everything they require to make a proper and festive seder—wine, matzah, fish, and fowl. Some Jewish organizations have also taken care to see that in countries of the world where Jews cannot get matzah, these supplies are shipped directly rather than money contributions. It’s something of a minor miracle that matzot baked in Brooklyn can reach Asmat, New Guinea, in time for the seder.
KOL DICHFIN
At the seder, we recite the words “all who are in need (Kol Dichfin), let them come and eat.” In order that these not be empty words, we are supposed to plan ahead and invite guests who, because of lack of funds or of knowledge, would otherwise not enjoy a seder of their own. In some congregations, a communal seder is held just for this purpose. Our shul tried a communal seder for several years, but it never really caught on. Now, the rabbi places a Kol Dichfin ad in the local newspaper, inviting strangers who would have no seder to call the synagogue. Shul members are requested to host in their homes. Admittedly, not too many respond on either side, but the solicitation for shul families to host strangers has an amazing way of swelling the Maot Chittin fund....
EREV PESACH
As we approach the holiday itself, the activity regarding chametz intensifies. On the eve of Pesach, there are four stages: bedikah, bitul, biur, and mechira.
BEDIKAT CHAMETZ
The night before Pesach, immediately after sundown, we undertake a thorough search for chametz throughout the entire house. The custom is to darken the house for the search, so that we focus on the places illuminated by the candle. With all the family gathered around, a single candle is lit, and the following blessing is recited by a head of the household:
Baruch ata Adonai Elohainu melech ha’olam asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al biur chametz.
Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, Who has commanded us concerning the destruction of the chametz.
Then with candle, feather, and wooden spoon in hand the search is on. The candle is used to light dark co
rners; the feather serves as a whisk broom to brush up crumbs into the makeshift dustpan—the wooden spoon.
But wait! Had we not described a moment ago the most rigorous cleaning imaginable? There’s no chametz in the bedrooms or the living room. Why bother searching? Why say a blessing on removing the chametz? Chances are the search will prove fruitless, and all we’ll have for our efforts is a b’racha levatala—the forbidden use of God’s name in vain (see p. 154).
But Jews have thought of everything! To put a little excitement into the search, and to assure that we don’t recite an inauthentic blessing, one member of a household—usually the mother—hides ten bits of bread throughout the house. Some people wrap each piece in plastic to avoid tiny crumbs on the rug, but most of us search for our chametz in the raw.
Why ten? No, it has nothing to do with the ten plagues, or with the Ten Commandments. It is simply an easy number to remember, and it avoids altogether the family’s exasperated second search, as you sheepishly try to recall, twenty minutes later, whether you hid six or seven pieces about the house. But there’s no law about ten; even one or two pieces will do.
BITUL CHAMETZ
As soon as all the pieces are collected and deposited, along with spoon and feather into a paper bag, everyone gathers for the second part of this ritual: the recitation of the formula for bitul chametz, renouncing all ownership. This formula is known as the Kol Chamira, after its first two words:
The language is Aramaic, so the custom grew to repeat the formula again in one’s native language: “All leaven and all chametz which is in my possession, which I have not seen or destroyed, nor have knowledge of shall be null, void, ownerless, and as dust of the earth.”
How to Run a Traditional Jewish Household Page 42