The Missus laid on a wonderful Seder meal Monday evening.
Passover Seders follow a prescribed ritual sequence: The word Seder literally means “order,” indicating the importance of doing everything the right way at the right time. And there’s plenty to do. There are foods, each with a specific symbolic role. There is the storytelling, all done in the form of a Socratic lesson. The Four Questions, each of which asks about something that sets this night apart from all other nights, followed by a Long-Winded Answer that constitutes the lion’s share of the Seder.
Long-winded, indeed. There are parts of the Passover Haggadah that invite comparison to Monty Python:
From the Passover Haggadah:
Rabbi Yose the Galilean says: How does one derive that, after the ten plagues in Egypt, the Egyptians suffered fifty plagues at the Sea? Concerning the plagues in Egypt the Torah states that “the magicians said to Pharaoh, it is the finger of God.” However, at the Sea, the Torah relates that “Israel saw the great hand which the Lord laid upon the Egyptians, and the people revered the Lord and they believed in the Lord and in His servant Moses.” It reasons that if they suffered ten plagues in Egypt, they must have been made to suffer fifty plagues at the Sea.
Rabbi Eliezer says: How does one derive that every plague that God inflicted upon the Egyptians in Egypt was equal in intensity to four plagues? It is written: “He sent upon them his fierce anger, wrath, fury and trouble, a band of evil messengers.” Since each plague was comprised of (1) wrath, (2) fury, (3) trouble and (4) a band of evil messengers, they must have suffered forty plagues in Egypt and two hundred at the Sea.
Rabbi Akiva says: How does one derive that every plague that God inflicted upon the Egyptians in Egypt was equal in intensity to five plagues? It is written: “He sent upon them his fierce anger, wrath, fury and trouble, a band of evil messengers.” Since each plague was comprised of (1) fierce anger, (2) wrath, (3) fury, (4) trouble, and (5) a band of evil messengers, they must have suffered fifty plagues in Egypt and two hundred and fifty at the Sea.
From Monty Python:
Chapman: I don't know - Mr. Wentworth just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at the mill, that's all - I didn’t expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
[JARRING CHORD]
[The door flies open and Cardinal Ximinez of Spain [Palin] enters, flanked by two junior cardinals. Cardinal Biggles [Jones] has goggles pushed over his forehead. Cardinal Fang [Gilliam] is just Cardinal Fang]
Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise...Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency...Our three weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope...Our four...no...Amongst our weapons...Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise...I’ll come in again.
[The Inquisition exits]
Chapman: I didn’t expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
[JARRING CHORD]
[The cardinals burst in]
Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms - Oh damn!
[To Cardinal Biggles] I can’t say it - you’ll have to say it.
Biggles: What?
Ximinez: You’ll have to say the bit about “Our chief weapons are...”
Biggles: [rather horrified]: I couldn’t do that...
[Ximinez bundles the cardinals outside again]
Chapman: I didn’t expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
[JARRING CHORD]
[The cardinals enter]
Biggles: Er.... Nobody...um....
Ximinez: Expects...
Biggles: Expects... Nobody expects the...um...the Spanish...um...
Ximinez: Inquisition.
Biggles: I know, I know! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect -
Ximinez: Our chief weapons are...
Biggles: Our chief weapons are...um...er...
Ximinez: Surprise...
Biggles: Surprise and -
Ximinez: Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah!...our chief weapons are surprise...blah blah blah. Cardinal, read the charges...
Sounds familiar, no?
And, with rare exception, there comes a point in the proceedings where there is a temptation to quote Brother Maynard of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, who admonishes the cleric reading the Book of Armaments as follows: “Skip a bit, Brother...”
Once we got the Ritual Stuff out of the way, out came the food, a veritabobble Groaning Board.
Gefilte fish, in both salmon and whitefish varieties. SWMBO does not go for the scary-looking lumps of fish in the jars you see at the supermarket. She buys her fish in the form of frozen loaves and bakes them, then chills and slices them. Delicious, especially when buried in sinus-clearing chrain (horseradish).
SWMBO’s homemade chicken soup with matzoh balls. Glorious.
Forgoing the stuffed brisket, SWMBO made a chicken tagine, aromatic with Moroccan spices - an excellent complement to a hearty tzimmes, laden with enough meat to sink a battle cruiser. String beans completed the picture.
Dessert? Macaroons...and a tasty fruit compote, my sole contribution to the meal.
We had a pile of leftovers...normal for our holiday meals, for which the Missus will prepare twice as much food as is necessary. Gaboons of tzimmes, plenty of chicken and fish...and a huge vat of hot chicken soup.
Cooling and storing a big pot of soup is not a trivial matter. If you simply stick it in the fridge, you’re asking for a serious case of food poisoning. Refrigerators simply can’t cool the soup down fast enough, and as it traverses the Danger Zone between 140 and 41°F, it provides a ripe Bacterial Growth Medium. Four hours is the maximum amount of time food can sit in the Danger Zone and still be considered safe to eat...so what to do with the soup?
You stopper up your kitchen sink and fill it with ice water. Then you put the pot of soup in there, sloshing that ice water around occasionally...and stirring the soup once in a while. Add ice to the sink if necessary. Once your soup is reasonably cool, you take it out and stick it in the fridge. You can chill a huge cauldron of soup fairly quickly this way; it’s standard operating procedure at our house.
Only trouble is, this time, Mr. Smart-Brains forgot to take the soup out of the sink. It sat there all night and was there to greet us when we got up in the morning...at room temperature. Fuck!
There was nothing to do but throw it all out, all two gallons...with all that chicken and alla them matzoh balls. What a tragic waste.
I was pissed off at myself, and at the same time I was sad. I was sorely tempted to stand up and recite a Mourner’s Kaddish for that soup at morning services...
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