Passover’s 11th Plague: Spilling a Drop for Corona
My immediate family isn’t especially religious.
In a year, we celebrate only two of the Jewish holidays with any real fervor: Passover and Rosh Hashanah. And if you know Jewish holidays, you know there are a lot more of ‘em. Our celebrations tend to be more focused on the meal than on the ceremony. This is mostly because my childhood was filled with holidays spent with my religious family that dragged on and on until I was catatonic. Turns out my parents felt much the same.
As my mom has aged, she’s become less and less responsible for the meal, while my contributions have increased. So too the size and make up of our passovers has grown. It now includes a fun mishmash of 3 generations of our biological and chosen family, children, original spouses, new spouses and more. Somehow, our little 4 person nuclear unit turned into 20 in a good year, and there’s little that excites me more than seeing everyone together, eagerly anticipating some tasty food.
I’m not the only one who can and does cook though. My 2 chosen sisters are great in the kitchen. Though they live 300 kilometers from Toronto, they still manage to bring trays and trays of tasty sweet and savory things to each meal to round out the already heaving spread.
