So, how’s YOUR day going?
I suspect a whole lot like mine: Lining shelves and running out of newspaper. Trying not to kill yourself on 50-micron aluminum foil (even the Badatz hechsher can’t save you). And spending much of the day fervently wishing for a snack, because there is absolutely, positively nothing to eat.
It all started when I woke up at the crack of dawn to go grocery shopping. I’m not kidding. It was 6:10 a.m. We had a ride with our neighbor (both ways!), and we weren’t willing to give that up.
But it turns out that getting ready for Pesach is pretty entertaining, when you take a minute to think about it. Luckily for you, I did the thinking. : )
Scene: Rami Levi, two days before Pesach.
Enter at your own risk.
The first thing we see as we wheel our cart toward the store is the huge display of pots.
We don’t yet own a Pesach pot, and I refuse to make one more Pesach without one. We’ve been searching all over for a pot with riveted handles and a stainless steel lid. We are committed to finding such a pot.
These pots in front of us have screwed-on handles and glass lids, but there’s a PINK one. Sold.
By the end of the morning, I have also become the proud owner of a pink silicone pastry brush and a pink hand grater.
We meet a neighbor of ours in the oil aisle and excitedly compare printed shopping lists and menu plans. His list is longer, but then again, he has a family of seven.
“Have you seen safflower oil anywhere?” I ask desperately. “I need it for baking.”
“Just use olive oil,” he says.
“Oh, really? Have you tried that?” I am hopeful now.
He grins. “Nope.”
My husband turns to me, standing behind the cart loaded almost to capacity with food.
“So, do we have anything to eat today?”
I consider this for a moment.
“No, not really.”
This must be the paradox of Pesach: So much food, and yet nothing available for eating.
I make a mental note to pick up some rugelach from the bakery next door.
And I think about the container of Ben & Jerry’s that we picked up as a Pesach treat. That makes me feel better.
On our way out of Rami Levi, I grab three free newspapers from the stand by the door. We’re all out of them already, and we need them to cover up our chametz dishes and line more shelves.
The 90-year-old Rami Levi worker who stands by the door to stamp receipts takes back two of them.
I stare at him. Is he for real?!
I consider telling him that we are such eager consumers of the news that we insist on reading it three times from three separate copies of the paper.
Ach, never mind. I grab two more from the bakery instead. Starting to really love the bakery.
I’m not going to lie, though. I kind of feel like waving them in the old guy’s face.
…Back at home, I tack a matzah postcard on the fridge.
Because you know, every fridge that’s been cleaned for Pesach really needs one of those.
I think it’s, like, halacha or something.