This Friday evening, Passover begins. While I have some fond memories of childhood Passovers, it’s hard to forget the torture. Seriously. Ask an introverted child to sit at a table with lots of relatives she barely knows, force that child to listen to an endless at-home religious service (the Seder), and prevent the child from eating anything other than bitter herbs and unleavened cardboard for what feels like hours. And to make matters worse, tell the child she can’t eat pizza or bagels for a week! Okay, maybe not the most traumatic experience, but…
Symbolism and Leavened Food
About ten years ago, I put together my own Haggadah (the text for the Seder), and I fell in love with the metaphors the holiday embraces. My favorite: hametz, the leavened food that we clean from our house before the Seder, represents all that is puffed and bloated in our lives, things like self-doubt and resentment, that prevent us from achieving internal freedom. But I didn’t sit down to write about glutenous food I rarely eat these days. I’m here to talk about the draft. Oops, wrong story—I’m here to talk about the glorious egg.
Hardboiled Eggs and the Seder
During a Passover Seder, a plate is set on the table to hold the symbolic foods: a roasted shank bone, a roasted egg, maror (bitter herb), karpas (green vegetable), and matzah. Most Haggadah say the roasted egg represents the Festival Offering that Israelites brought to the Temple in Jerusalem, yet other than placing it on the Seder plate, we don’t do anything with the roasted egg. We do eat hardboiled eggs, but not during the Seder, and though we say prayers before eating other symbolic foods, we don’t say a specific prayer for eggs. Nonetheless, dinner at all Seders I’ve attended began with dipping a hardboiled egg in salt water, and several rabbis consider eggs the richest symbol of the evening.
I’ve heard the Exodus from Egypt referred to as the passing through a narrow place, not unlike the egg, which has passed through the chicken. Yet the journey is not complete until the chick breaks through the shell. Emancipation represents only a beginning of the journey, a time when the hard work of breaking though the shell has yet to happen. Some say the dipping of the eggs in salt water represents the sorrow we experienced as slaves, but I think it represents the sorrow that comes before a repressed people can break through the barriers that still exist after emancipation.
Pickled Eggs
Pickled hardboiled eggs are not a traditional part of the Seder. This year they will be part of mine. At first I didn’t think of the symbolism of it; I just thought that if Passover were celebrated on my fantasy world of Awan, the Telem would probably pickle their eggs. The Israelites may not have had time to wait for their bread to leaven, and they wouldn’t have had time to pickle their eggs, but if I were wondering the dessert for forty years, I’d want pickled eggs. And now that I think of the symbolism of how vinegar changes the egg without the egg losing all it’s glory, it seems a good symbol to add to my Seder.
And now on to the Pickled Egg recipe…
Pickling Spice Blend
1½ tsp whole Allspice
4 Bay Leaves, crumbled
1½ tsp whole Cardamon seeds
1½ tsp whole Cloves
1 Tb whole Coriander seeds
1½ tsp whole Dill seeds
1½ tsp whole Fenugreek
1 Tb whole Mustard Seeds
1 tsp ground Nutmeg
1-3 dried hot peppers, crumbled
Pickled Hardboiled Eggs
10-15 * hardboiled eggs
1 cup water
1½ cup white vinegar
1 large onion, sliced
12 garlic cloves, peeled
8 slices fresh Ginger
1 batch pickling spice
1 pickling jar *
* We prefer to pickle 15 eggs in a 1½ liter jar with a clamp down lid. If you use a 1 liter or 1 quart jar, use only 10 eggs.
Sterilize jar
Sterilize jar by submerging in boiling water for ten minutes. For more information on this visit the National Center for Home Food Preservation site.
Green-Free Hardboiled Eggs
- Place eggs into a sauce pan large enough to allow the eggs to lie in one layer, and fill the pan with cold tap water so the eggs are submerged by a couple of inches of water.
- Partially cover the pot and bring to a full rolling boil.
- Completely cover the pot and reduce the heat to low. Allow to simmer for thirty seconds.
- Remove the pot from the heat, keep it covered, and let the eggs stand in hot water for twelve minutes. (Since pickling continues to “cook” protein, this is less time than if you are going to just make hardboiled eggs. If you don’t plan to pickle the eggs, then allow them to sit in hot water for up to fifteen minutes.)
- Bring the pot to the sink and run cold tap water into the pot for five minutes.
- Drain out the water. Close and shake the pot vigorously to crack the shells.
- Refill the pot with warmish water so that water can seep into the cracks. (This makes peeling easier). Peel the eggs.
Pickling Eggs
- Add the water, vinegar, onions, garlic, ginger, and pickling spice mix to a small pot and bring to a full rolling boil.
- Turn down the heat and simmer for five minutes.
- Place the hardboiled eggs, onions, garlic, ginger, and spice mix into the jar in layers so that they are evenly distributed throughout the jar. To ensure that the eggs will be fully submerged in pickling liquid, top the jar with a layer of onions, garlic, ginger, and spices.
- Pour pickling liquid into the jar to the very top.
- Close and seal the jar. Label the jar with the date and place it in the refrigerator. Let it sit in the refrigerator for at least five days.
Just when I thought spring had come, and I was celebrating the blooming of flowers and the lengthening of days, Portland decided to revisit winter. It’s gotten cold and wet, and a tad depressing. But despite that, I have something to cheer about—my son is coming home from school for a week. My husband and I plan to fill his vacation with very Portland activities, such as Argentine Tango (hmm, I’m going to have to write a blog about that one) and eating at our favorite neighborhood haunts.
Of all the restaurants in Portland, we probably dine at Tasty n Sons more than any other, partly because it is in our neck of the woods, but mostly because they serve one of the best breakfasts in town. My family loves breakfast, especially when we can eat it after noon any day of the week. While there are many items on the menu, every time we go there for breakfast we must order the Radicchio Salad (which is completely different from the Toro Bravo version) and the Shakshuka, a dish of eggs stewed in vegetables that’s popular in Israel. At Tasty n Sons, they stew the eggs in tomatoes and peppers, and the result couldn’t be any more fabulous. But Tasty n Sons serves more than just breakfast, they also serve dinner and a late-night happy hour, which makes it a great place to dine after an evening Tango class.
While my neighborhood market sells King Cake during Carnival season, the people of Portland don’t really celebrate Mardi Gras. So, what’s with the title of this post? The answer—I just came back from New Orleans and while I was there, everyone I met loved hearing that I was from Portland. Many said, “Is it really like Portlandia?” or “I really want to go there”, which is exactly what most of my friends here said when I told them I was going to New Orleans. So, is Portland like Portlandia? Sort of, just taken to a wonderful extreme.
Both Portland and New Orleans have things in common: art galleries, live music, a strong food culture, good coffee, and the scent of marijuana. But New Orleans has more of everything packed into a small area, which makes it a great walking city, and you can get beignets and coffee at 1:00 AM any day of the week. While there I spent my days going from gallery to gallery, talking to artists, and my nights with my husband dining in fun restaurants or listening to live music. Oh yeah, did I mention the parades. During Carnival in NOLA, parades happen…often. Many people plan to watch them, but even if you don’t plan it, you’ll see them anyway. There’s no avoiding the flying beads and marching bands. Who would want to?
tourists flock to the French Quarter, and while I did wander the streets there, especially Royal Street with all of its galleries, I enjoyed strolling along the river or visiting the other neighborhoods. I loved the restaurants, museums, and artist owned galleries in the Warehouse District and the music along Frenchmen Street in the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood. While Portland has many streets with restaurant after restaurant, we don’t have anything like Frenchmen Street, a stretch of bars with live music every night. And the quality of that music is over the top.
I love whiskey, not for knocking back and getting drunk but for savoring. For me, sipping a good bourbon, rye, or scotch is like gazing at art or strolling through a garden or eating a damn good donut. It’s one of those activities that lets me relish life. Normally, I prefer my whiskey neat, but every now and then I desire a cocktail prepared by a talented bartender. And there’s no place with better bartenders than Expatriate.
The day’s stress melts away when I sink into my favorite seat at the bar. Perhaps it’s the Asian decor, subtle lighting or beautiful wooden furniture. Though, the eclectic music playing on the Technics turntables may have something to do with it. As soon as I’m settled, I get a warm greeting from the bartenders, all of whom treat me like a regular, which is sweet considering that my budget doesn’t allow me to frequent the place as often as I’d like. Lack of frequency aside, I’m welcome when I come, and I enjoy the conversations I have with the staff on topics ranging from the music of Rodriguez to the art of Picasso to the poetry scene in Portland.
at an expat bar anywhere in the world, albeit with a Portland spin. They serve killer whiskey drinks, like the Bellwether and the Ornament and Crime, and unexpected drinks like the Sundowner, a vermouth, mezcal, and grapefruit liqueur concoction with a complexity of flavors that linger long after the drink is finished. They do have cocktails made with vodka, rum, and gin; I just haven’t tried them. Sorry folks, I’m a whiskey girl.
