Overheard next to me last week while getting a facial on West 72nd Street on the Upper West Side:
Woman in her 80s reclining next to me with green cream on her visage asking her facialist: “So, do you Russians have brisket for Passover?”
Overheard next to me last week while getting a facial on West 72nd Street on the Upper West Side:
Woman in her 80s reclining next to me with green cream on her visage asking her facialist: “So, do you Russians have brisket for Passover?”
Cute. However 15 Nissan began at sundown on Good Friday, so it’s about a fortnight late.
My Bubbe had both brisket and roast chicken for Seder. You had to eat two helpings of both, or she would say you didn’t like her cooking. Oy!
First-night seders were the norm when my sons were young some 35 or 40 years ago. I still can chant the kiddush from memory, and can read much of the rest of the haggadah. Of course when I was 14 and working regularly as a [i]shabbat goy[/i] Passover gave me the chance to bring Ham & Cheese on Rye to school to trade with all the rebellious adolescent Jewish guys for the Passover foods they’d brought from home. I still make kugel ’cause I love it.
Now that I have a long-desired but unexpected young daughter, who’ll be barely two for Passover 2013, I shall repeat the cycle. If it was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me.