A Sephardic Passover
by Laura Reiley
East Bay Express, March 20, 1998

Every year toward the end of March my husband launches into a rant about Passover desserts. He laments his people’s peculiar insistence on making elaborate cakes in the face of extreme ingredient limitations—no flour or leavening—and their delusions about the upshot. “If ‘It’s so moist’ is the best thing you can say about a ten-pound cake,” he says, “you’re better off eating an apple.”

Growing up vaguely Methodist, I didn’t know from hametz. When I made macaroons to take to my first seder, I buttered and floured the baking sheets for ease of removal. During dinner our host explained the special Jewish dietary laws during Passover prohibiting the use of hametz, or leavening agents, and most grains, including wheat flour. I hunkered down behind the pages of my Haggadah and thought: Do I tell them about the trace amounts of flour? If I don’t tell, will they somehow know? Will they get sick? Will Elijah walk through the door and point an accusatory finger at me?

By the time my second seder rolled around, I felt like an old hand. From the Hebrew word for “order,” the seder is the festive meal eaten on the first two nights of Passover (only the first night for Israeli Jews) in memory of the Exodus from Egypt. The meal itself does not start until the story of the Exodus has been retold through the reading of the Haggadah and ceremonial eating of certain foods. These include matzoh, the unleavened bread of the Hebrews’ hurried escape from Egypt; maror, bitter herbs (grated horseradish), commemorating the bitterness of slavery; baitzah, a hard-cooked egg, a reminder of life’s cycle of birth and death and the destruction of the Temple; zaroah, a roasted lamb bone representing the paschal lamb; haroset, chopped apple, nuts and wine, symbolic of the mortar and bricks Hebrew slaves were forced to make; and karpas, parsley or lettuce, as a portent of spring’s renewal and hope.

As with any wonderful story, there are many ways to tell it. There are feminist Haggadahs, Haggadahs for every special interest, kids’ Haggadahs, even Maxwell House coffee puts out a fine Haggadah. But from my experience, the Passover meal is pretty much the same from place to place and year to year. For my first seder, we had gefilte fish, matzoh ball soup, roast chicken, matzoh kugel (pudding), flourless almond cake, slightly hametz-soiled macaroons and four cups of kosher wine. Last year the menu was the same, but I’ve cleaned up my act with the macaroons.

Although Nisan 15 on the Jewish calendar may find me at the table with any number of different friends or family members, the startling culinary homogeneity has everything to do with the Jewish people I know, They are all Ashkenazic Jews, people whose origins are in Eastern Europe and Russia, people who, on the surface, share little more than a propensity to swear in Yiddish when riled. But the Ashkenazic culinary heritage is focused and codified, having developed cut off from non-Jewish influences, in the shtetls and ghettos. It’s no accident that I know only Ashkenazim; they account for two-thirds of the world’s Jewish population, a percentage even higher in the United States.

Sephardim make up the other branch of the world’s Jews. “Sepharad” means Spain in Hebrew; originally Sephardim were those Jews whose families had come from the Iberian Peninsula. The term has broadened to encompass Jews of the Mediterranean, Middle East, and Asia. Because of the vastly different settings and climates, Sephardic foods and flavors vary from one country and region to the next. Generally speaking, while the Ashkenazic diet was limited to the available produce of Eastern Europe or Russia (potato, cabbage, onion, chicken, freshwater fish), Sephardim were more integrated in the Islamic world, which was filled with a range of heady spices, eggplant, artichokes, peppers, rice, and saltwater fish. In Greece, Sephardim flavored foods with garlic, lemon, oregano; in Turkey garlic is married with dill, parsley, and mint; in North Africa cilantro and cayenne take precedence.

For this reason, Sephardic Passover foods and rituals vary greatly from region to region, and Passover customs are different. Witness the ceremonial Seder plate itself. At the start of the ceremony, the karpas, or sweet greens, are dipped in kosher-for-Passover vinegar before they are eaten. Just as the salted water for Ashkenazim, the vinegar symbolizes the tears shed by the Hebrews. The bitterness of slavery is symbolized for the Sephardim by a bitter green (such as romaine), instead of horseradish. A sweet fruit and nut paste is still said to look like the color of mortar used by the Hebrew slaves, but for Sephardim this haroset often includes dates, figs, and other fruits.

Sephardim have a number of unique Passover seder customs. A blessing called Santak Khadra may be said by the evening’s host. Holding a sheaf of new wheat in his hand, he taps family and guests on the head while reciting a blessing for a productive year. In fact, according to Rabbi Robert Sternberg in The Sephardic Kitchen, “Sephardic Jews have developed a custom of reciting extra blessings over food on Sabbaths and festivals based on a Kabbalistic belief that reciting more blessings on the Sabbath brings you closer to God.” Also, Ashkenazic Passover traditions such as the hiding of the afikomen (the dessert matzoh) may be treated differently for Sephardim (children use the afikomen as supplies when acting out tht Exodus).

Still, it is the foods of the seder meal that will be the most striking for people familiar only with Ashkenazic practices. For both, the seder plate contains the zaroah, or roasted lamb bone representing the Temple sacrifice; however, Ashkenazim don’t eat lamb at seder in memory of this, and Sephardim do. Observant Jews do not eat wheat, barley, rye, oats, and spelt during Passover—these are hametz (strictly defined as any food or drink made from something that, by coming into contact with a liquid for more than eighteen minutes, either rises or ferments). Both groups agree that these are forbidden. Ashkenazim additionally forbid the use of rice, corn, dried beans, peas, and lentils (a class of foods called kitniyos) because of their capacity to ferment. These, however, Sephardim are allowed to eat.

These loosened rules have much to do with the common foodstuffs of the Mediterranean—rice and legumes are mainstays. The Mediterranean Passover table may include dishes of rice and fava beans, which are just coming into season (it is also said that fresh fava beans are appropriate because they were eaten by the Hebrew slaves in Egypt, a claim I have trouble imagining). Artichokes, dill, fava beans, and spring lamb often make their debut on the Sephardic Passover table, more a tribute to the season than they are ripe with religious symbolism.

An older Ashkenazic woman I know, with a little flap of her hand, dismisses foods of the Sephardim as “fancy food.” Indeed, Arabic influence has yielded traditional Sephardic foods that are exotically spiced; the bright tastes of Mediterranean produce have added intensity of flavor. Other than these general markings, Sephardic food defies easy definitions. Claudia Roden, in The Book of Jewish Food, describes four broad styles of Sephardic cooking. Judeo-Spanish cuisine (including Turkish and Balkan) is the Jewish cuisine of the Iberian Peninsula; Maghrebi or North African cuisine encompasses Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, and Libya; Judeo-Arab cooking is focused in Syria and Lebanon; and finally, there is the cooking of the Iraqi and Iranian Jews. Passover dishes from each of these groups vary widely, while the laws of hametz and the story of the Exodus from Egypt provide the basic foodstuffs of the traditional meal. The Passover seder meal often mirrors the foods of the seder plate.

The first course is fish, a symbol of abundance and prosperity. In Turkey and Greece, a fillet of poached or matzoh-meal-coated and fried fish is napped with a walnut sauce that resembles the haroset of the seder plate. In North Africa the sauce is often of almonds, elsewhere it may be of pine nuts. (The fish is seldom ground and made into gefilte fish, as Ashkenazim have done.)

Soup usually follows—Sephardim don’t have quite the love affair with chicken soup that Ashkenazim are famous for, but a rich chicken broth swirled with egg and lemon, dotted with matzoh pieces or speckled with rice, is common. Maror (bitter herbs) usually show up again in the form of a simple salad, perhaps romaine, chicory, and endive dressed with kosher-for-Passover oil and lemon. This is less common for Ashkenazim who hailed originally from colder climates where spring had not yet yielded young greens by Passover.

Dairy meals during Passover may feature a Turkish spinach and potato pie, a leek pie or something like a lasagna layered with vegetables and matzoh, called scacchi in Italy and mina in Turkey. But to go with a main course of roasted lamb or chicken (in Morocco at Passover, it is tradition to barbecue foods, because when the Hebrews left Egypt they grilled and ate on the run), braised artichokes or fava beans often make a showing.

Sephardic Passover desserts almost always feature marzipan, or almond paste. It adds texture and delicate flavor to cakes, candies, and cookies, and is sometimes flavored with orange or tangerine in Morocco, cinnamon in Iraq and dotted with candied citrus peel in Italy. The meal ends with the last sip of kosher wine, a cup of coffee, and the last bite of an almond macaroon. One tip: when making macaroons, don’t butter and flour the baking sheets—use parchment paper.

SEPHARDIC-STYLE HAROSET

Haroset may be flavored with cinnamon and cloves in Morocco, pine nuts and pears in Italy, chopped walnuts and date syrup in Iraq. This is an all-purpose, ethnically muddy version.

8 apples, peeled and cored
2 1/2 cups water
1 1/2 pounds pitted dates
1 pound dried figs
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon, or to taste
2 cups chopped walnuts
3/4 cup sweet Passover wine
1/2 cup wine vinegar

Cut apples into chunks and place in a large saucepan with water, dates, figs, and sugar. Bring to a boil and simmer about 30 minutes or until the apples are tender. Drain well and let cool to room temperature. Puree the fruit in a meat grinder or food processor (the latter will yield a smoother consistency). Mix with the rest of the ingredients and refrigerate before serving. Makes 3 cups.

CHICKEN TAGINE

The value of this Moroccan dish at Passover seder is that it can accommodate a lengthy Haggadah reading. Kept warm on a back burner, it is patient.

One 4-pound chicken, cut into pieces
Salt and pepper, to taste
1/2 cup matzoh meal
6 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 cups chopped onions
1 cup chicken stock
1 cinnamon stick
2 one-inch pieces ginger root, peeled
1 1/2 cups pitted prunes, halved
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon lemon zest
1 tablespoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon saffron threads, optional
1/2 cup toasted slivered almonds

Wash and dry the chicken. Salt and pepper pieces, dip in matzoh meal to coat lightly. Shake off excess. Heat oil in a large saute pan with a tight-fitting lid. Saute the chicken pieces, in batches, on all sides until brown.

Remove each piece to a platter and set aside.

Saute the onions in the fat in the pan for about 15 minutes, until they’re just starting to caramelize; scrape with a wooden spoon to dislodge the browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Combine the stock with the cinnamon and ginger. Simmer 10 minutes. Add the stock mixture to the saute pan along with the browned chicken pieces.

Cover and simmer gently for 20 minutes. Add the prunes, lemon juice, zest, and optional saffron and simmer for another 20 minutes, or until the chicken is tender. Add water or more stock if necessary during cooking. Place the chicken on a platter. Top with sauce and toasted almonds. Serves 4.