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WHITE MEADOW TEMPLE
153 WHITE MEADOW ROAD | ROCKAWAY, NJ 07866 | 973-627-4500

Rabbi’s Message
Don't Be Bitter

In a few weeks we will gather around the tables of family and friends to celebrate the yearly ritual of the Passover seder. Studies have shown that the seder is one of the most attended of all Jewish customs in America. People who never go to synagogue and don’t belong to a Jewish organization still sit down for the symbolic meal that marks the festival of Pesach.

The popularity of the seder comes from many factors: it involves eating food, a favorite Jewish activity; it happens only once a year and is therefore a low level of commitment; its themes fit in nicely with the American values of freedom and family; and it incorporates some of our most beloved customs. Among the songs and foods of the seder, one of the customs that people look forward to is eating the bitter herbs. In my family we used to have a semi-formal competition for who could eat the most horseradish without turning red and having steam come out of our ears. Some years we would take a chunk of raw horseradish, cut right from the root, and eat it. During other years my parents would make fresh horseradish by chopping it in a food processor and storing it in a container in the refrigerator. Just opening the Tupperware and taking a whiff would knock you off your feet.

But did you ever notice that horseradish is not bitter? Sure, horseradish is sharp, as my sinuses can surely attest, but it is not bitter. A classic bitter substance is quinine, found in tonic water. Olives and citrus peel are other examples of bitter foods. So if horseradish is not bitter, how did it become the favorite for the custom of the marror, the bitter herbs?

The Mishnah (the code of Jewish law edited around 200 CE) lists foods that qualify for marror. The most preferable is lettuce; in particular Romaine lettuce. You are probably thinking to yourself, “Romaine is even less bitter than horseradish; how can that be proper marror?” Joshua Kulp in his excellent Schechter Haggadah (p. 252), points out that the food we know of as Romaine lettuce is the product of thousands of years of domestication and manipulation by farmers to make them more palatable. The Romaine eaten by the rabbis of the Mishnah may indeed have been bitter.

Lettuce is a tricky vegetable to grow. Many of us remember growing up with only iceberg lettuce in our refrigerators. We didn’t eat fancy arugula and mache in the past because lettuce does not generally travel well. By the time it would arrive at our grocery store it would be wilted and inedible. Iceberg was the only variety that could survive transport in a frozen train or truck, until technology advanced and created bags filled with special gases that could preserve more sensitive varieties.

For thousands of years, in Northern Europe, lettuce was simply not an option for seders that occurred in early spring. A substitute was needed for marror and horseradish was used because it was available earlier in the year in colder climates. The issue of the bitter herbs at the seder is one that raises interesting questions about customs. Should we continue our family traditions even when they do not serve the originally designed purpose? Should we change our customs to conform to Jewish law? It would seem that we should replace horseradish with romaine lettuce. However, as we noted earlier, our romaine is no longer bitter, so does this fit in with the command to eat bitter herbs?

These are all good questions to ask at the seder, on our “Night of Questions.” Another reason for the popularity of the seder is that it is a wonderful example of informal education, the process of learning without realizing that we are learning. So this year place some horseradish, romaine, and other foods at your table during the Marror section of the Haggadah. Ask your guests to name the bitter food. Better yet, do a blind taste test. Younger children might particularly enjoy an exercise where they identify the five tastes. Be creative and enjoy new possibilities for old customs!

Hag Kasher VeSameach,
Rabbi Benjamin Adler