42 April 18 • 2019
jn

Matzah
Madness
W

hether you’
re 9 years old or 
90, you probably have a fond 
memory of the hiding of 
the afikomen during a Passover seder; 
whether you were the 
one charged with con-
cealing it or if you’
re a 
kid who has enjoyed the 
reconnaissance mission 
in search of it.
For our non-Jewish 
friends or the uniformed 
reader, afikoman is not 
the former Secretary 
General of the United Nations. That 
would be Kofi Annan. And after much 

forethought, I’
ve decided to stick with 
saying “afikoman,
” although today it 
would be politically correct to refer to it 
instead as “afikoperson.
”
We all know the matzah basics. Bread 
that was supposed to bake for an hour at 
350 degrees was cut short by our peoples’
 
hastened Exodus from Egypt. So, techni-
cally, matzah became the Jews first carry-
out meal. The hiding of the afikoman is, 
of course, just one of the many symbolic 
moments during our seders that serve to 
remind us of our escape from bondage.
My mission was to find some humor-
ous anecdotes that arose out of the tra-
ditional hiding, finding and awarding of 

a prize for discovering the afikoman. 
Thank you to the following folks 
for sharing recollections from their 
matzah madness past.
From Ronelle Grier, my esteemed 
fellow JN writer and author: “While 
my mother, Esther Rosenthal of 
blessed memory, was a creative and 
successful businesswoman (she 
owned The Paper Place in Applegate 
Square), housekeeping was not one 
of her priorities. One Passover, she 
hid the afikoman as usual, and we 
were dispatched to look for it at the 
appropriate time. No one could find it 
and, eventually, we gave up the hunt 
in favor of chocolate-covered matzah 
and sponge cake.
” But wait, there’
s 
more!
Added Ronelle: “I guess my mother 
was busy in the kitchen and was unaware 
it hadn’
t been found. Several years later, 
when my parents were packing up the 
house to move to a condo, they found 
the afikoman. It was still in its original 
hiding place, on top of an antique break-
front in the dining room.
”
For my cousin Sylvia in Toronto, 
the finding of the afikoman provided 
a life-changing bargaining chip. Says 
Sylvia: “I was 17 and my religious par-
ents wouldn’
t let me drive. I got the 
afikoman and held it ransom until well 
after midnight until my parents agreed 

to let me get my license so they could 
end the seder. But then my mother 
wouldn’
t give me her car. So I bought my 
own car with my part-time cashier and 
teller money!” 
Sylvia attributes her staunch indepen-
dence and success as a business woman 
to that fateful matzah mediation. By 
the way, for you kids attending a seder 
across the border, keep in mind that a 
Canadian dollar awarded for finding the 
afikoman is only worth 75 cents U.S. 
My friend Linda Zyla lovingly recalls 
her grandparent’
s Passover gatherings.
“My maternal grandparents were 
larger than life,
” Linda said. And so were 
their Passover seders. “Grandpa Morris 
stuck to the book. Service before dinner, 
enormous dinner and then service after 
dinner. No corners were cut. Everything 
by the book; including the bitter herbs.
” 
It turns out though, that Linda’
s 
grandmother was at the forefront of 
creating a whole new twist of hiding 
the afikoman. Said Linda, “Grandma 
Ann knew that her grandkids didn’
t like 
eating the bitter herbs — what kid does? 
So, to protect her precious grandchildren 
from bitterness of any kind, she would 
come sit with us during the partaking of 
the bitter herbs and slip the parsley into 
her large apron pockets. Boy, do I miss 
those seders.
” 
I, for one, would like to see our 

Alan Muskovitz
Contributing Writer

passover

N

ear the beginning of a traditional 
Haggadah, the leader announces 
“This is the bread of poverty that 
our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. 
Everyone who is hungry, come and eat. 
Anyone who needs to, come and celebrate 
Passover.” 
Taken literally, that means that we wel-
come all sorts of guests to our seder. In 
practice, if you want to make this real, you 
have to look for guests. Where to look? The 
easiest strategy:
• Another family that would have a seder 
of its own. Each family’
s experience of 

Passover gets enriched by sharing with the 
other. 
• A step more adventuresome: friends and 
neighbors who would otherwise have a lone-
ly seder night. 
• Folks too far away from family to go back 
for the seder, away for studies or a new job, 
or on a temporary work assignment.
• Jews too far away from observance to 
plan for the seder, but close enough to accept 
an invitation. 
• Converts who literally have no Jewish 
family with whom to share a seder. 
• Folks estranged from their Jewish family 
by quarrel or by divorce.
• Mourners bereft by the recent death of 
relatives, whether recent or long ago. 
• Non-Jews who have legitimate reasons 
for attending a seder: conversion candidates, 
students of comparative religion and com-
munity leaders. 
Guests far from home may feel surprised 
that a seder in suburban Detroit resembles 
a seder back home in Brazil or Belgium. 
Sometimes the guest brings an old custom 
that seems new to us. 
A couple of Iranian students at our family 

LOUIS FINKELMAN CONTRIBUTING WRITER

A Seat at 
the Table

Guests at the seder can 
make the holiday more 
meaningful. 

continued on page 44

continued on page 44

