Passover

"I love trying different recipes that substitute matzo for flour. It's always interesting to see how they turn out. As you can see, this one turned out well and it tastes good too. I'm kind of a sucker for anything with apples and nuts. The matzo in place of the flour is what gives the cake its light texture. Make sure to squeeze as much water as you can from the shredded apples to keep the cake airy."

Apple Matzo Cake
Adapted from Everyday Food
Serves 6

Nonstick Spray
3 large eggs, separated, plus 3 large yolks
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
3 cups grated Granny Smith apples (from 6 peeled apples), squeezed dry
1 cup matzo meal (make your own by processing plain matzo pieces in food processor until finely ground)
2 teaspoons lemon zest
1 Tablespoon brandy
2 Tablespoons honey
1/4 cup finely chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly coat an 8" springform pan with nonstick spray. In a medium bowl, using an electric mixer, beat 6 egg yolks, sugar and salt until thick and pale, about 3 minutes. Fold in apples, matzo meal, lemon zest and brandy.

In another medium bowl, with clean beaters, beat 3 egg whites until stiff peaks form, about 4 minutes. With a rubber spatula, gently fold egg whites into apple mixture and transfer batter to pan. Drizzle with honey and sprinkle with pecans. Bake until golden brown and set in center, 45 to 50 minutes. Let cake cool completely in pan on a wire rack. To serve, run a small knife around edge of pan, remove cake and slice.

– Recipe courtesy of Noble Pig

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Passover is one of mankind's oldest continuously performed traditions. And it's still legal in most states! A time-honored tradition when family and friends can gather and argue and eat and think and eat and complain and eat.

So, while we are supping tonight, remember this is much more than a meal. It's a chance to remind each and every one of us just how much more miserable we could actually still be!

So, from being the "low man," to shopping at Loman's. This is our story of perseverance and faith. Belief and strength. Hope and Crosby. (It is a "road story" after-all)

It is also a story that must be told every year.

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My husband is Jewish, my stepchildren are Jewish, even my son is Jewish.  And yet, I, myself, am merely Jew-ish, which is to say that I go to temple with my family, participate in our Jewish life, but have yet to officially convert.  Why?  I don’t know exactly.  I believe that it’s either in your heart or it isn’t, and it is in mine, and no amount of mikvehs will make it more so.

My first seder was easily a decade ago.  I slaved (no pun intended), I sweated, I researched.   I even figured out how to get a lamb shank bone for my seder plate.  And for dinner, I made a fine lamb roast.  We invited my husband’s best friend since high school, and his family.  Turns out, they don’t eat lamb.  That was awkward.   But it had nothing to do with Passover.  (I had no idea that there were people who felt funny about lamb. Now I ask, every single time, and there’s only been one other occasion where someone categorically turned their back on it.)