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Apr. 12th, 2006 11:27 pmFirst night Passover. Mum decided to break with tradition and have an adults' table and a kids' table. The only real difference between them was that the adults got the chocs first, and that was because I and one of my nieces did a lot of food-transporting and we were clever and located the chocolate and nut platter near us.
What else happened? Lots of normal stuff. Normal for us, anyhow. I made sure I had the footnoted Haggadah (the Haggadah is the text the evening is based on) and made snide comments to myself when apropriate. Sometimes I even got to share snide comments with my niece eg when the acronym for the Ten Plagues was translated in a footnote as "The scorpion stung the uncle".
Every year I laugh at the same jokes. Every year I marvel at the way we start Echod Mi Yodeya (a counting song) with such vim and vigour and as we get to about the ninth verse the resembles a runaway train and we all magically come back together then slam the brakes on in a deceptively strong final verse. I suspect we all know 1, 2, 3 and 13, but only a few of us know the intervening numbers. All of us sing "Chad Gadyo" (selling goats is something to sing about in a big city) but none of us understands more than a word here or there, and we keep reassuring ourslves "It's in Aramaic. We are not ignorant. Truly." And tonight we didn't do the whole Grace after Meals. There was technical discussion on the appropriateness of us singing the initial Psalm. I wanted to sing it regardless, because in Canberra I picked up the knack of singing it to "Waltzing Matilda' and a psalm with undertones of Jolly Swagmen appeals to me. Alas, I am a middle child and was over-ruled on this as on almost everything else today.
For my food-addicted friends, we ate a lesser meal than usual. Mum dropped a couple of courses. For ConJure folks, look for someone very, very fat. Even without gefilte fish or cake, the food was abundant. And typical. This could be any Passover seder at Mum's over the years:
Boiled egg and potato dipped in salt water(symbolic)
Unleavened bread in various incarnations (deeply symbolic) with various substances, all safe (though the horseradish this year was knockout potency)
Charoset(looks like mortar and tastes divine)
Traditional liver pate thingie
Chicken soup with kneidlach (matzah balls - about as traditional as tradition gets - I taste it and want to break into the opening number from Fiddler on the Roof)
Various roast meats (chicken, veal, beef - never lamb on Passover because the Temple has fallen - at least, this is what our family claims)
Pickled cucumbers
Carrot salad (with ginger and lemon and honey - we normally have it with pineapple, but we had that last Friday)
Green salad
Roast potatoes and sweet potato and jap pumpkin
Little egglants with balsmic and olive oil dressing (the hint that we do take cooking more seriously on every other night - those nights when we are not diping herbs and leaning and getting drunk)
Broccoli
Fruit compote (made by yours truly. A delectable combination of quince, clingstone peach and buerre bosc pear)
Home made macaroons
Black tea
Chocolate and nuts
Afikoman (we nearly didn't have this, because it was cleverly hidden in the same place as last year and the kids claimed it was "no fair" because they couldn't find it. Eventually my uncle dropped heavy hints and the bag was retrieved and the unleavened bread in it distributed and we could formally finish dinner - this is when we got into debate about the appropriate form of grace after meals).
It isn't that late, but oh, am I tired.
If you don't hear from me for a little it's because I left my login password at home. I promise I will write my blog faithfully every Brisbane night, whether I post it or not, and I will post the whole lot in a series eventually. If someone can engineer me internet access (I have the computer etc - just no ### password - and I know *exactly* where the crucial piece of paper is, too. It's sitting next to my desk at home, waiting patiently to be packed.) I will post as I go, otherwise, have a good Easter/Passover/generic holiday.
And know that I have have just discovered that Russell Kirkpatrick and I are on the same panel on Friday. And I am quaking in my sandals. Rusell has threatened to agree with everything I say ...
What else happened? Lots of normal stuff. Normal for us, anyhow. I made sure I had the footnoted Haggadah (the Haggadah is the text the evening is based on) and made snide comments to myself when apropriate. Sometimes I even got to share snide comments with my niece eg when the acronym for the Ten Plagues was translated in a footnote as "The scorpion stung the uncle".
Every year I laugh at the same jokes. Every year I marvel at the way we start Echod Mi Yodeya (a counting song) with such vim and vigour and as we get to about the ninth verse the resembles a runaway train and we all magically come back together then slam the brakes on in a deceptively strong final verse. I suspect we all know 1, 2, 3 and 13, but only a few of us know the intervening numbers. All of us sing "Chad Gadyo" (selling goats is something to sing about in a big city) but none of us understands more than a word here or there, and we keep reassuring ourslves "It's in Aramaic. We are not ignorant. Truly." And tonight we didn't do the whole Grace after Meals. There was technical discussion on the appropriateness of us singing the initial Psalm. I wanted to sing it regardless, because in Canberra I picked up the knack of singing it to "Waltzing Matilda' and a psalm with undertones of Jolly Swagmen appeals to me. Alas, I am a middle child and was over-ruled on this as on almost everything else today.
For my food-addicted friends, we ate a lesser meal than usual. Mum dropped a couple of courses. For ConJure folks, look for someone very, very fat. Even without gefilte fish or cake, the food was abundant. And typical. This could be any Passover seder at Mum's over the years:
Boiled egg and potato dipped in salt water(symbolic)
Unleavened bread in various incarnations (deeply symbolic) with various substances, all safe (though the horseradish this year was knockout potency)
Charoset(looks like mortar and tastes divine)
Traditional liver pate thingie
Chicken soup with kneidlach (matzah balls - about as traditional as tradition gets - I taste it and want to break into the opening number from Fiddler on the Roof)
Various roast meats (chicken, veal, beef - never lamb on Passover because the Temple has fallen - at least, this is what our family claims)
Pickled cucumbers
Carrot salad (with ginger and lemon and honey - we normally have it with pineapple, but we had that last Friday)
Green salad
Roast potatoes and sweet potato and jap pumpkin
Little egglants with balsmic and olive oil dressing (the hint that we do take cooking more seriously on every other night - those nights when we are not diping herbs and leaning and getting drunk)
Broccoli
Fruit compote (made by yours truly. A delectable combination of quince, clingstone peach and buerre bosc pear)
Home made macaroons
Black tea
Chocolate and nuts
Afikoman (we nearly didn't have this, because it was cleverly hidden in the same place as last year and the kids claimed it was "no fair" because they couldn't find it. Eventually my uncle dropped heavy hints and the bag was retrieved and the unleavened bread in it distributed and we could formally finish dinner - this is when we got into debate about the appropriate form of grace after meals).
It isn't that late, but oh, am I tired.
If you don't hear from me for a little it's because I left my login password at home. I promise I will write my blog faithfully every Brisbane night, whether I post it or not, and I will post the whole lot in a series eventually. If someone can engineer me internet access (I have the computer etc - just no ### password - and I know *exactly* where the crucial piece of paper is, too. It's sitting next to my desk at home, waiting patiently to be packed.) I will post as I go, otherwise, have a good Easter/Passover/generic holiday.
And know that I have have just discovered that Russell Kirkpatrick and I are on the same panel on Friday. And I am quaking in my sandals. Rusell has threatened to agree with everything I say ...