Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
Is there a Seder in Bali? I’ll be doing the Seder alone; can you send me a printable haggadah? I am going away for Passover, and am not sure if and when I should search for chametz in my home. Which foods can I feed my pet during Passover? How can I make the Seder meaningful for teens? With so much suffering in the world, are we truly free during this festival of freedom?
These are but a small sampling of the thousands of questions our 25 rabbis and rebbetzins fielded in in English, French, German, Hebrew, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Russian over the days leading up to Passover.
Before Passover, it is customary to ensure that everyone has the basic necessities to celebrate the holiday and where to go for the Seder. We try our best to accomplish just that, helping to put our constituents in touch with local Chabad centers and other local Jewish resources, often making late-night calls to ensure that everyone has what they need.
The team remained on active duty 24/6 up to the last few minutes before Passover, standing by and assisting thousands of people from all over the world with their Passover-related questions.
Many of the answers can be found in our Passover Q&A section. I invite you to look through the responses, as well as to send in your questions, both Passover- and non-Passover-related. It will be our pleasure to respond.
With continued blessings for a kosher and happy Passover,
Chani Benjaminson,
Team leader for Ask the Rabbi @ Chabad.org
Do you have something to say about this note? Please click here to leave a response or ask a question.
Daily Thought:
From Beyond, With Love
A miracle is what occurs when a force from beyond the finite cosmos enters within.
That is why to see a miracle, you need an open heart and mind.
Open enough to receive the Infinite
This Week's Features:
The Eighth Day of Pesach: The Feast of Moshiach
Last Days of Passover
From the talks of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson
A Reflection of Moshiach
The eighth day of Pesach is traditionally associated with our hopes for the coming of Moshiach. For this reason, the haftorah read on that day contains many prophecies which refer to the era of the redemption. Among the best-known of these: “The wolf will dwell with the lamb; the leopard will lie down with a young goat”;1 “He will raise a banner for the nations and gather in the exiles of Israel.”2
About two hundred and fifty years ago, as the time for Moshiach drew closer, the Baal Shem Tov instituted a custom which underlines the connection between the redemption and the eighth day of Pesach: on that day he would partake of Moshiach’s Seudah, the festive meal of Moshiach. 3
Transforming the Belief in Moshiach into Reality
Moshiach’s Seudah is intended to deepen our awareness of Moshiach and enable us to integrate it into our thinking processes. The twelfth article of Rambam’s thirteen principles of faith is4 “I believe with perfect faith in the coming of Moshiach. Even if he delays, I will wait every day for him to come.” Though all believing Jews accept this principle intellectually, for many the concept of Moshiach remains an abstraction. Partaking of Moshiach’s Seudah reinforces our belief in this principle, translating our awareness of Moshiach into a meal, a physical experience which leads us to associate this concept with our flesh and blood.
The Baal Shem Tov’s linking of our awareness of Moshiach to the physical is significant, because it prepares us for the revelations of the era of the redemption. In that era, the G‑dliness that is enclothed within the physical world will be overtly manifest. As the prophet Isaiah declared, “The glory of G‑d will be revealed, and all flesh will see it together.”5 At that time, “the glory of G‑d” will permeate even the physical aspects of the world—“all flesh.”
Chassidut explains6 that the preparations for a revelation must foreshadow the revelation itself. Since, in the era of the redemption, the revelation of G‑dliness will find expression even in the physical world, it is fitting that our preparation for these revelations be associated with physical activities such as eating and drinking.
Transforming the Worldly
Moshiach’s Seudah, as mentioned above, is held on the eighth day of Pesach. The Torah originally commanded us to celebrate Pesach for seven days. When our people were exiled, however, a certain degree of doubt arose regarding the exact date on which the holidays should be celebrated. To solve the problem of determining the Jewish calendar in exile, our sages added an extra day to each festival. In other words, the eighth day of Pesach had been an ordinary day, but through the power endowed by the Torah, the Jewish people were able to transform it into a holy day.
When Moshiach comes, a similar transformation will occur throughout all of creation. Even the material and mundane aspects of the world will reveal G‑dliness. Celebration of Moshiach’s Seudah on the eighth day of Pesach—once an ordinary day, now transformed—anticipates the kind of transformation that will characterize the era of the redemption.
Why the Baal Shem Tov?
That the Baal Shem Tov originated the custom of Moshiach’s Seudah is particularly fitting. Once, in the course of his ascent to the heavenly realms on Rosh Hashanah,7 the Baal Shem Tov encountered Moshiach and asked him, “When are you coming?” Moshiach replied, “When the wellsprings of your teachings spread outward.”
The goal of the Baal Shem Tov’s life was to prepare us for Moshiach, and the institution of Moshiach’s Seudah was part of that life’s work.
The Contribution of Chabad
Like many other teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, the custom of conducting Moshiach’s Seudah was explained and widely disseminated by the successive rebbes of Chabad. Moreover, in 5666 (1906) the Rebbe Rashab (the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe) added a new element to Moshiach’s Seudah: the drinking of four cups of wine.8
During the time of the Baal Shem Tov, the main ingredient of Moshiach’s Seudah was matzah. The tasteless flatness of matzah symbolizes selfless humility, a desire to transcend oneself. Wine, by contrast, is flavorful and pleasurable, and thus symbolizes the assertiveness of our individual personalities. Combining matzah and wine in Moshiach’s Seudah teaches us that self-transcendence does not require that we erase our personal identities. Self-transcendence may be accomplished within each individual’s nature. A person can retain his distinctive character and identity, yet dedicate his life to spreading G‑dliness instead of pursuing personal fulfillment. Once he has fundamentally transformed his will, an individual can proceed to a more complete level of service of G‑d in which his essential commitment permeates every aspect of his personality.
This innovation of the Rebbe Rashab exemplifies the comprehensive contribution of Chabad Chassidut to the legacy of the Baal Shem Tov. The Baal Shem Tov taught each Jew how to reveal his essential G‑dly nature and thus rise above his personal identity. Chabad, an acronym for the Hebrew words chochmah, binah and daat (“wisdom, understanding and knowledge”), brings the Baal Shem Tov’s teachings into the realm of the intellect, allowing them to be integrated and applied within each individual’s personal framework.
The Mission of Our Generation
Our generation has been charged with the responsibility of making all Jews aware of Moshiach—and this includes the custom of conducting Moshiach’s Seudah. This mission is particularly relevant in our day, for the Jewish people have completed all the divine service necessary to enable Moshiach to come. As the Previous Rebbe expressed it, “We have already polished the buttons.”9 Moshiach is waiting: “Here he stands behind our wall, watching through the windows, peering through the crevices.”10 The walls of exile are already crumbling, and now, in the immediate future, Moshiach will be revealed.
There are those who argue that speaking openly about the coming of Moshiach may alienate some people. The very opposite is true. We are living in the time directly preceding the age of Moshiach. The world is changing, and people are willing, even anxious, to hear about Moshiach. It is thus our duty to reach out and involve as many people as possible in the preparations for his coming.
These endeavors will escalate the fulfillment of the prophecies of the haftorah recited on the eighth day of Pesach:11 “A shoot will come forth from the stem of Yishai . . . , and the spirit of G‑d will rest upon him”—with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days.
Adapted from Likkutei Sichot, vol. 7, pp. 272–278, and the Rebbe’s talks of the last day of Pesach 5722 [1962].
FOOTNOTES
1.Isaiah 11:6.
2.Ibid. 11:12.
3.Ha-Yom Yom, 22 Nissan.
4.This represents the popular, shortened form of these thirteen principles as printed in many siddurim. The original version appears in full in Rambam’s commentary on the Mishnah, in the introduction to ch. 10 of Sanhedrin (Perek Chelek).
5.Isaiah 40:5.
6.Cf. On the Essence of Chassidus, ch. 4, p. 15.
7.As related in a letter addressed by the Baal Shem Tov to his brother-in-law R. Gershon Kitover, describing his soul’s ascent on Rosh Hashanah 5507 [1746]. The letter was first published in Ben Porat Yosef, and appears in part in Keter Shem Tov, sec. 1.
8.See Sefer ha-Sichot 5698, p. 277.
9.Sichot of Simchat Torah 5689 [1928].
10.Song of Songs 2:9; cf. liturgy of Kiddush Levanah (Siddur Tehillat Hashem, p. 239). See also Sefer ha-Sichot 5699, p. 316.
11.Isaiah 11:1–2.
SPLITTING THE SEA
What Does G-d Have to Do with It?
Is it possible to be spiritual and selfish at the same time?
By Yossy Goldman
Is it possible to be spiritual and selfish at the same time? Let us have a look at the words of the Torah that shed important light on this question.
Vayasa Moshe et ha-am—“Moses made the people journey from the sea.”1 The great miracle had happened. The sea had split and the Egyptian army was no more. The word vayasa—“he made [them] journey”—implies that Moses had to force his people to move on. But why was this necessary? Why wouldn’t they move on their own?
According to Rashi, the enemy was so confident of victory against the Israelites that they bedecked their horses and chariots with gold, silver and precious jewels. These treasures were now being washed up on the seashore, and the Jews were collecting the riches. So they were in no mood to move on. But Moses said they had a date with G‑d at Mount Sinai. As the nation’s leader, he had to compel them to carry on their journey.
The Zohar2 gives a more spiritual explanation. We are taught that the divine revelation at the splitting of the sea was quite an extraordinary experience. In the words of our sages, “What a simple maidservant saw at the sea, even the great prophets were not privileged to see.”3 According to this mystical view, it was not the material wealth they were obsessed with, but rather the incredible spiritual delights they were experiencing.
Either way, it was up to Moses to move them along to their appointment with destiny. And the question is this: If it was gold and silver that was delaying their journey to Sinai, we can well understand the need for Moses to hurry them on. But if it was the spiritual experience of inspired revelation, why move on? Why not stay there as long as possible? Surely, the more G‑dly revelation the better!
The answer is that G‑d was calling. Sinai was beckoning. The entire purpose of the Exodus and all the miracles in Egypt and at the sea was nothing more than to receive the Torah at Sinai. That was the revelation that would give the Jewish people its unique way of life and its very raison d’être. Sinai represents our mission, our mandate. Sinai made us G‑d’s messengers on earth. However we may understand the concept of a chosen people, it was the Sinaitic experience that made us that. Any detours or distractions from the journey to Sinai are therefore out of the question—no matter how lofty or spiritual they might be.
It comes as no great shock to learn that gold and silver are not as important as Sinai. But that spirituality, too, must take second place to Sinai—this is indeed big news. And what exactly is Sinai? Torah. And what is Torah? The will of G‑d. In other words, the bottom line is: what does G‑d want? How does He want us to act, to live our lives? So, the big news story here is that even the most amazing spiritual experience, the most extraordinary revelation, is not as important as doing what G‑d wants us to do.
It is a very important message that emerges from this one word, vayasa. It’s not what we want that counts, but what G‑d wants. If we want money and diamonds, and He wants to give us His Torah, then we leave the loot and we go to Sinai. And even if it is a spiritual experience we seek, and G‑d says “Go to Sinai,” we still go to Sinai and we leave the spiritual inspiration for another time.
The following is a true story. It once happened back in the old country that late one night, a wagon driver ran into a yeshivah and cried out to the students to come out and help him. It was urgent, he said. His wagon had overturned, and his horse was stuck in a ditch and was in danger of dying. He needed help to get the wagon upright. It was late at night, and there was no one else he could turn to, so he appealed to the yeshivah students to come to his assistance.
At this point the students’ Talmudic training kicked in, and a long halachic debate ensued. Was it right to leave their Torah study for the sake of a horse? After all, is not Torah study equal to all the other mitzvot combined? On the other hand, the horse provided this Jew’s livelihood. Which takes precedence? The debate raged on and on—and when they finally did decide to go out and help the poor man, it was too late. The horse had died.
Sometimes we can get so caught up in our own spirituality that we become quite selfish. Spiritually selfish, of course, but selfish nonetheless. At the end of the day, it’s not whether we are into materialism or monotheism, money or metaphysics. The ultimate question—and, in fact, the only question—is: what does G‑d want of me at this moment in time? Where should I be and what should I be doing right now?
So, if you find yourself in a quandary or on the horns of a difficult dilemma, ask yourself this very question: What would G‑d want? Yes, sometimes it might be helping a horse out of a ditch. But if that is the call of the hour, then so be it. It might not be very spiritual, but it is the right thing to do.
And if it’s the right thing to do, that makes it very G‑dly.
FOOTNOTES
1.Exodus 15:22.
2.Part 2, 60a.
3.Rashi to Exodus 15:2.
BY YOSSY GOLDMAN
Rabbi Yossy Goldman was born in Brooklyn, New York. In 1976 he was sent by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory, as a Chabad-Lubavitch emissary to serve the Jewish community of Johannesburg, South Africa. He is Senior Rabbi of the Sydenham Shul since 1986, president of the South African Rabbinical Association, and a frequent contributor to Chabad.org. His book From Where I Stand: Life Messages from the Weekly Torah Reading was recently published by Ktav, and is available at Jewish bookshops or online.________________________________________
More in Splitting the Sea:
• One More (By Elana Mizrahi)
My husband and I had been married for three and a half years, and we desperately wanted children. We were living in Jerusalem at the time. Passover was coming to an end, and although we had had a wonderful holiday, there was a sadness that clouded our joy. It had been another Seder without a baby, another week of Chol HaMoed without a child to take around to parks and festive events, another year of asking, “When will our personal redemption come?”On the Passover was coming to an endseventh day of Passover, we ate what I thought was going to be the last holiday meal in the mid-morning, and I settled down to read and enjoy the last hours of Passover. (In Israel, Passover is celebrated for seven days; outside of Israel, an eighth day is observed as well.) All of a sudden, I heard a knock on my door. Two friends had come to visit. One of them was single, and the other newly married.
“Elana, come. We’re taking you to my mother in-law’s cousin. She’s married to a great tzaddik (righteous man).” Here was an opportunity for me to receive a blessing for children.
We wound our way through the twisted alleyways of a very religious neighborhood in Jerusalem, until we arrived at the tzaddik’s home. His wife, the rebbetzin, opened the door. She greeted us as though we were old friends, although she didn’t even know who I was or why I was coming to meet her and her husband. She rushed us to the dining room table, which was laid out with salads and delicacies. Before I knew it, I was sitting at the table, surrounded by this incredible family and being served tons of food.
Now, just as a side note, by this point in the week I had had my full of meat and chicken and potatoes. I definitely was not hungry, and had no idea that I was going to be eating yet another (mind you, delicious) Passover meal. I thought that I was done already. But no, the rebbetzin informed me that we were taking part in the Seudat Moshiach (Meal of Moshiach). I had no idea what she was talking about. She then turned to me and said, “I’m not trying to be nosy, but do you want a blessing from my husband for children?”
I nodded yes. I had already received various blessings; undergone many, many treatments; and tried dozens of things to become pregnant. How could one more blessing hurt?
And, a Should they go back to Egypt? Should they fight? What now?year later to the day, I gave birth to my son. A few months after his birth, my single friend got married, and five years later she gave birth to her second son, also on the last day of Passover.
So, what is the Seudat Moshiach? What is its power?
G‑d took the Jewish people out of Egypt, and seven days later they stood before the Red Sea. The Egyptians were almost upon them, and there was nowhere to go. They felt desperation. Should they go back to Egypt? Should they fight? What now? Moses stretched out his arm and raised his staff to the sea. Nothing happened. Then one man, Nachshon the son of Aminadav, jumped into the sea. Nothing happened. He kept walking until the water was up to his chest, then up to his neck, then his nose. And then it happened. The sea split, and the nation of Israel passed through. Once they reached the other side, their enemy came chasing after them, and the wall of water crashed down, drowning the Egyptian soldiers in the stormy sea.
What would have happened if Nachshon hadn’t jumped in? What would have happened if he hadn’t kept walking into the waters? Would G‑d have split the sea open? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.
What would have happened if you decided you couldn’t meet “one more” person? What if you had turned down that opportunity to go on “one more date,” the one where you met your husband? Would you be married now? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.
What would have happened if you decided that you had had enough, and you were done trying to conceive? What if you decided this when you had only one more chance to ovulate? Would you have a baby now? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.
And what It’s about “one more”if you were tired of dealing with rejection and sending out resumes? If you hadn’t sent out that last one, would you be working now? Maybe, maybe not.
The last day of Passover, when we have the Seudat Moshiach, is about the “one more.” The one more meal, one more blessing, one more date, one more try. It’s about the one more good deed that will tip the scales and bring the redemption.
And for me, it will always be about the blessing I received on the last day of Passover, and the precious baby I was given on that day—my Avraham Nissim, for nissim means “miracles.”
BY ELANA MIZRAHI
Originally from Northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist and writer. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.Artwork by Yitzchok Moully.
CELEBRATING THE FUTURE REDEMPTION
Egypt and the 21st Century
Make use of your mental Photoshop program and insert yourself into the picture. You will be experiencing the drama along with the others; you will try to feel their pain and plight. Ready? By Levi Avtzon
It is really hot outside. Hot like a desert.
Hundreds of people are out in the fields, wrapped in rags, ripped sandals on their aching feet. They walk haggardly, whiplash marks painted all over their broken bodies. To the side stands the guard, a dark-skinned man with an interesting-looking beard.
Stop for a moment and imagine the scene. Enter Egypt of 3,300 years ago.
Now make use of your mental Photoshop program and insert yourself into the picture. You will be experiencing the drama along with the others; you will try to feel their pain and plight.
Ready?
You notice one of your coworkers collapsing. He is blue.
You don’t cry; you are already immune to pain, having lived this nightmare as long as you can remember. Life is painful.
When the guard walks over to the dead man, you have a brief moment to think undisturbed. Your mind begins to wander . . .You are already immune to pain, having lived this nightmare as long as you can remember
You remember the time your daddy sat you on his lap and related what had been told to him by his father, quoting the patriarch of the family: “A day will come when a man will arise and declare in the name of G‑d, ‘I have surely remembered you!’ All the suffering will then end . . .”
Whip! “GET TO WORK!” The guard is back. Back to reality!
Back to work you go, but with a flicker of hope. The future envisaged so vividly revives your shattered soul. It is all about to end, you tell yourself with pure faith . . .
Hey, what’s the noise you suddenly hear? Why is everyone shouting?
You raise your eyes and behold a dream come true.
There stands a man with an angelic look, a long white beard and eyes so kind, and he is shouting for all to hear, “G‑d has said: ‘I have remembered you!’”
Moses has arrived.
Close Photoshop. Go back to the exile of America circa right now.
No whips, no guards, but an exile of a different sort—a prison of secularism. The divine hand obscured almost completely.
People walk the streets fashionably dressed, fancy shoes on their feet. They walk proud, with meaninglessness painted all over their face. All over are billboards and screens telling people how to live their lives.
No need to imagine the scene. Just turn on a TV or walk down the street.
You notice another neighbor who has fallen off the beaten path, his morals shattered.
You don’t cry, you don’t flinch. You are used to this; this is life.
When the radio, phone and TV are all shut, you have a few minutes to think undisturbed.You raise your eyes and behold a dream come true
You remember sitting on Daddy’s lap, as he related how the one-liner Ani Maamin—which proclaims the faith that one day we will be free from evil and pain, and we’ll live in a utopian world where G‑d is revealed and peace takes over the world—has been with us Jews wherever we went. It has given us hope even at the darkest moments . . .
Hey, what’s that noise you hear? Why is everyone shouting?
You raise your eyes and behold a dream come true.
There stands a man with an angelic look, with a long white beard and eyes so kind you feel the truth penetrating your soul. And he is shouting for all to hear, “The time of your redemption has arrived!”
Moshiach has arrived.
It’s about time.
BY LEVI AVTZON
Rabbi Levi Avtzon lives in Johannesburg, South Africa, with his wife, Chaya, and their children. He regularly blogs his thoughts and ideas on the weekly Torah reading, current and past events, and the imminence of the Redemption on the Jewish website Chabad.org.
COUNTING THE OMER
Why Do We Count the Omer?
From the second night of Passover until the day before the holiday of Shavuot, the Jewish people engage in an unique mitzvah called Sefirat HaOmer—the counting of the Omer.
By Yeruchem Eilfort
From the second night of Passover until the day before the holiday of Shavuot, the Jewish people engage in an unique mitzvah called Sefirat HaOmer (counting of the Omer). The Torah commands us that during this time each year we count seven complete weeks, for a total of 49 days. At the end of the seven-week period we celebrate Shavuot, which means “weeks.”
This is considered a mitzvah, so the count, which takes place each night, is preceded by a blessing. However, we may recite the blessing only if we have not missed a single day’s counting. If we have omitted the counting even one night during that stretch (and did not make it up during the daytime without reciting the blessing), we may no longer recite the blessing, but instead must listen as a friend says the blessing and then do the counting.
During the times of the Holy Temple, at the beginning of the Omer count and on the following holiday of Shavuot, special grain offerings were brought. These offerings were waved in different directions, similar to how the lulav is waved during the holiday of Sukkot, to demonstrate G‑d Almighty’s all-encompassing presence.
Why do we count these days? We learn several reasons. The foremost is that the count demonstrates our thrill for the impending occasion of receiving the Torah, celebrated on Shavuot. Just as a child often counts the days until the end of school or an upcoming family vacation, we count the days to show our excitement at again receiving the Torah (as we do in fact receive the Torah in a renewed sense every year).
We also learn that this period is meant to spiritually prepare and refine ourselves. When the Jewish people were in Egypt nearly 3,400 years ago, they had assimilated many of the immoral ways of the Egyptian people. The Jews had sunk to an unprecedented level of spiritual defilement, and were on the brink of destruction. At the last possible moment, the children of Israel were miraculously redeemed. They underwent a spiritual rebirth and quickly ascended to the holiest collective state they had ever reached. They were so holy, in fact, that they were compared to angels when they stood at the foot of Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah.
It was during that 49-day period that they underwent such a radical transformation. From the lowest lows to the highest heights in just seven weeks!
The commandments of the Torah are not meant merely as our history, but instead represent on ongoing life lesson for every Jew. We view the Torah as freshly received every day of our lives, and approach it and its commandments with appropriate vigor.
So too must we digest the lesson of the counting of the Omer. It is specifically during this time that we strive to grow and mature in our spiritual state. The Torah does not allow us to become satisfied with our current level of spirituality. Instead it tells us to set high goals for ourselves, and then methodically strive to reach that goal.
The growth that occurs during this time is akin to a marathon. We pace ourselves and seek to improve day by day until we reach the day that we again receive the Torah. In this process, we look deep within ourselves and work on all of our negative attributes. If we are challenged in the realm of acts of kindness, we go out of our way to do more charitable works. If we are lacking in the area of justice, we hold ourselves to the highest possible standards and are exacting and demanding in our personal behavior and habits. And so it goes for all of our traits.
________________________________________
More in Counting the Omer:
• Sefirat HaOmer Minisite
Introduction
“When you take this people out of Egypt,” said G‑d to Moses when He revealed Himself to him in a burning bush at the foot of Mount Sinai, “you shall serve G‑d on this mountain.”
It took seven weeks to reach the mountain. The people of Israel departed Egypt on the 15th of Nissan (the first day of Passover); on the 6th of Sivan, celebrated ever since as the festival of Shavuot, they assembled at the foot of Mount Sinai and received the Torah from G‑d.
The Kabbalists explain that the 49 days that connect Passover with Shavuot correspond to the 49 drives and traits of the human heart. Each day saw the refinement of one of these sefirot, bringing the people of Israel one step closer to their election as G‑d’s chosen people and their receiving of His communication to humanity.
Each year, we retrace this inner journey with our “Counting of the Omer.” Beginning on the second night of Passover, we count the days and weeks: “Today is one day to the Omer”; “Today is two days to the Omer”; “Today is seven days, which are one week to the Omer”; and so on, till “Today is forty-nine days, which are seven weeks to the Omer.” Shavuot, the “Festival of Weeks,” is the product of this count, driven by the miracles and revelations of the Exodus but achieved by a methodical, 49-step process of self-refinement within the human soul.
VIDEO
Moshiach and the End of Days
What is it that will come to an end in the future redemption, and what will existence be like?
By Manis Friedman
Watch (47:14)
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________________________________________
More in Video:
• Beyond the Law (By Binyomin Bitton)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2513350&width=auto&height=auto"></script><div style="clear:both;">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</div>
ART
Splitting of Sea
The splitting of the Reed Sea as the Jews left Egypt.
Artist’s Statement: The splitting of the Reed Sea as the Jews left Egypt.
COOKING
Almond Crusted Chicken Tenders with Honey-Lemon Dipping Sauce
By Miriam Szokovski
Passover cooking can be tricky, especially since every community has its own list of dos and don’ts. This recipe uses mostly raw ingredients, so it should cover most people’s criteria; but if you have a nut allergy, stay far, far away.
Now, in the name of brutal honesty, this was certainly not the recipe I initially set out to make. I had grand plans for tantalizing chicken meatballs in a hearty thick sauce, but alas—the results can best be described as an inedible pile of purple goop, and that’s the flattering description!
After that dismal disaster, I decided to go “safe” with fried chicken tenders—who doesn’t like that? The almond meal gives it a lovely nutty flavor, and a drizzle of lemon-honey sauce really takes it up a notch.
But first, cut the raw chicken into narrow strips (the narrower the better—mine were a little thick). I find it easier to cut the chicken thinly when it’s half-frozen. Then marinate the chicken in fresh lemon juice for a couple of hours. The acidity might give the chicken a whitish hue, but don’t worry about that.
Coat each piece of chicken in egg, and then in almond crumbs. Fry on medium heat for about 4 minutes on each side (but check that it’s fully cooked through), or drizzle generously with oil and bake at 425° F for 20–25 minutes (the time will depend on how thin or thick your pieces are).
While the chicken is cooking, prepare the lemon-honey sauce. Gently mix the mayonnaise with honey and fresh lemon juice. Mix in one direction until combined—this will ensure you don’t end up with a gloppy mess.
Ingredients:
1 lb. chicken breast, cut into narrow strips
2 eggs, lightly whisked
3 lemons, juiced
2 cups ground almonds
Oil for frying
4 tbsp. mayonnaise
2 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1 tbsp. honey
Directions:
Juice the lemons, and set aside 2 tablespoons for the dipping sauce.
Marinate the chicken strips in the rest of the lemon juice for 2 hours.
Prepare eggs in one bowl, and ground almond in a second.
Dip chicken into egg, then into the ground almond, until fully coated.
Decide if you want to fry or bake your chicken.
To bake, grease a baking tray. Line chicken pieces up (they can be touching). Drizzle generously with oil. Bake at 425° F for 20–25 minutes.
To fry, fill frying pan halfway with oil. Heat to medium, and gently fry each piece until cooked through (approximately 4 minutes on each side). Remove from oil and place on a paper towel.
For the Dipping Sauce:
Mix mayonnaise with honey and lemon, gently stirring in one direction until combined. You may need to adjust the proportions, depending on which mayonnaise you use and according to your taste.
Serve chicken warm, with sauce either on the side or drizzled on top. Enjoy!
Have you ever made almond-crusted chicken? What are your go-to Passover dishes? What was your worst kitchen disaster? Leave a comment and let me know.
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More in Cooking:
• Cauliflower Au Gratin (By Aviva Kanoff)
You won't miss the potatoes or the dairy that are typically found in a gratin.
6 tbsp. margarine
1/2 cup matza cake meal or ground walnuts
2 large onions, chopped
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 tsp. salt
28 oz. vegetable or chicken stock
1 large cauliflower, sliced into 1/4-inch slices
Black pepper
Paprika
Preheat oven to 350˚.
In a large pot, melt margarine.
Add matza meal or ground walnuts and whisk until smooth.
Add onions, mayonnaise, salt, and stock. Stir until smooth and cook until mixture thickens.
With ladle, spread a layer of sauce at the bottom of a 9x13-inch greased pan. Spread a layer of cauliflower. Repeat until layered.
Sprinkle top with paprika and pepper to taste.
Bake for 1 1/2 hours, or until golden brown.
Aviva Kanoff is an artiste extraordinaire. As a former student of the French Culinary Institute, Aviva’s artistic approach led her to creative experimentation with food. No Potato Passover combines her creativity with her intuitive understanding of flavors as well as her love of travel.
© Copyright 2014, all rights reserved.
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