Of Passovers Past
It is almost Passover. As I sit at my kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea before I start my day, my mind wanders off to years gone by when we were all young, happy, and strong. We used to celebrate Passover at my parents’ home. The flowers in the garden would be out in all their resplendent glory, their colorful hues and scents announcing the joyous holiday. We would all be dressed in our holiday finery. As we arrived for the Seder, my young children would be scooped up and covered with loving kisses by their grandparents. They were the first of the grandchildren that were yet to come.
The dining room would be set with the best crystals, china, and silverware. The house would be filled with vases of fragrant flowers from the garden. Bingo, our dog, would wag his tail happily at the thought of everyone being there, for he was a very social being. Besides, he could smell the delicious aroma of the food wafting out of the kitchen. He knew he would be sharing in the festivities as well.
When all the guests had arrived, we gathered around the long dining table, and the Seder began. Papa would begin to read. As the story of Passover was told, we tasted the different blessings. The blessing I loved the most was scooping pieces of lettuce into the date syrup and crushed walnuts. I also loved sipping at the Kiddush, trying not to get greedy and gulp it down in one go. I much preferred it to the wine. Kiddush is made from big fat sweet raisins soaked in water until they turned red, sweet, and luscious. They are then strained and poured into decanters to be drunk at the Seder table. It is a non-alcoholic drink that everyone could imbibe, especially the little ones. Nowadays we purchase bottled kosher grape juice, but it tastes nothing like the homemade ones we used to make at home.
Khatoon would stand quietly at a corner of the room, waiting for us to finish. Once Mama nodded to signify that we were done, she and Sultan would clear the table. Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes would pass before the main meal would be served. In our family, the Passover menu would always include lamb shanks cooked in a combination of okra, mint, and parsley in a sweet and sour sauce. Included as well is a dish called Saluna, a dish made with fish and the Sabbath chicken and rice. For dessert, we would have coconut macaroons, almond macaroons, and fruit.
By the time the meal was over, we were stuffed! The children would be sleeping, curled up against an adult. When it was time to go, we would gently bundle them off into the car and drive home. The next day the men would make the rounds of various homes of family and friends to wish them a happy holiday. They would start with the homes of the most senior families in our community. In the meantime, the ladies would be home welcoming the gentlemen that arrived to pay holiday greetings. On small tables arranged throughout the salon there would be a variety of Passover sweets, dried fruits, nuts and fruits small arrangements of flowers scattered throughout the room. In the kitchen, the maids would be busy making tiny cups of Turkish coffee. If there were older daughters in the household, it was preferred that they served their visitors, otherwise, a maid would.
At lunchtime, the men would return home for lunch and a nap. Husband and wife would share information on which homes they visited and who had visited their home. That way they made sure they didn’t forget anyone. In the afternoon this ritual was continued. The next day the men returned to work.
On the last day of the holiday, if it was a weekday the ladies and their children would gather in the afternoon in one of the homes of their close friends or relatives. It was the end of Passover. The men would come home early from work. We could now eat bread and cheese and yogurt. I fondly remember gathering in either my parent’s home or my Aunty Simha and Uncle Philip’s home. We would sit in the garden. The meal would be dairy. It would consist of bread, feta cheese, dishes of yogurt and spinach and mint, yogurt with strawberries, omelets laced with date syrup, or herbs, clotted cream drizzled with more date syrup, salads, and stalks of parsley to hit each other with as we merrily laughed and wished each other, “Santek khethra! Santek khethra!” “May your year be healthy, happy, and prosperous!”
I smile to myself as I fondly remember the cherished days of the Passover that used to be. I wish you all a very Happy and Healthy Passover and a Santek Khethra!
Chag Sameach! May your year be healthy, prosperous, and green!