I consider myself to be more of a cultural Jew than a religious one. Because of this, some find it surprising that I love Passover. I go all out eating only matzo, no meat with milk, no pork, no shellfish, no random grains that were banned because my people might get them confused with other forbidden grains (*cough* rice *cough*). Anyway, what I really love about Passover are the stories. There are Plagues! Darkness! Disease! Killing first borns! Pissed off G-d! Awesome!
Plus, even though I haven’t been home for Seder in 3 years (this year being the first year I haven’t done one at all), eating the food is a way for me to get back to my roots and remember my family. So, I would like to dedicate this post to my Grandpa, who always hid the afikomen and may or may not have given me more hints than my cousins; and my Dad, while not a Jew, dove in head first into tradition and made Seder more fun (including singing Freak Nasty’s “Da Dip” chorus during the part where you dip parsley into salt water. “You put your hand up on my hip, when I dip, you dip, we dip!”). So, Grandpa and Dad – this is for you!