What makes this night different from all other nights?

Two nights ago I had my first Ukrainian seder. Seder, meaning "order" in Hebrew, is the ritual Passover meal held on the first two nights of the holiday. During a seder, we retell the Exodus story of the Jews leaving Egypt, eat traditional Passover food, drink four cups of wine (or in Ukraine, a minimum of four; no maximum), and sing songs in Hebrew, Aramaic, and in the case of this year's seder, Russian as well.

So what about that traditional Passover food? I've been doing a lot of thinking lately regarding my place as vegan in a ritual meal where much of the important, symbolic foods are, not surprisingly, made of animal products. Before going any further, let me break down the foods than can traditionally be found on a seder plate:


We have, moving clockwise from the top, khazeret, or Romaine lettuce; z'roa, or a roasted lamb shank, symbolizing the korban pesach, or Passover sacrifice at the Holy Temple in Jerusalem; charoset, or fruit and nut paste, which symbolizes the morter that the Hebrew slaves used to build Egyptian storehouses; marror, or bitter herbs, symbolizing the bitterness of slavery under the Egyptians; karpas, or leafy green (usually parsley), that we dip into salt water, symbolizing the tears of the Hebrew slaves; and lastly, beitza, or an egg, symbolizing korban chagiga, or festival sacrifice at the Temple on Passover. In some vegetarian Haggadot (guides to the ritual meal), such as The Liberated Lamb, a beet replaces the shank bone. Some Jews also include an orange on their seder plate, a ritual startedby feminist scholar Susannah Heschel. The exact origin of this ritual is debated. Some claim that the ritual began when, during one of Heschel's lecures in Miami, an elderly Rabbi stood up and said that a woman belongs on the bimah just as an orange belongs on the seder plate. To others, the orange on the seder plate simply represents the fullness and fruitfulness of Judaism once all marginalized peoples are included, particularly queer Jews.

As a guest, I was unable to "customize" my own seder plate this year, and had to simply remove the egg and bone (or a chicken leg, in this case) from my plate. Taking these symbolic items from my plate at this sacred meal was much different than ordering pizza without cheese at a restaurant or telling a server to "hold the sour cream." When I chose not to partake of the egg or meat on the seder plate, I wasn't just making a decision as a person who eats alone, but distinguishing myself from those around me. Meals and ritual, table fellowship and familial bonds are part of every recorded human history. To give up these foods is to give up more than just their taste and goes well beyond the crude, fleeting feeling of pleasure on the palate. So how do I justify giving up meat and animal products during a ritual meal in which those foods play a central role?

I just recently finished reading Jonathan Safran Foer's Eating Animals, in which he discusses at length what it means for him to adopt a meat-free lifestyle when most of his family memories revolve around meat-based meals:

Some of my fondest memories are of weekly sushi dinners with my best friend, and eating my dad's turkey burgers with mustard and grilled onion at backyard celebrations, and tasting the salty gefilte fish at my grandmother's house every Passover. These occasions simply aren't the same without those foods--and that matters... Changing what we eat and letting tastes fade from memory create a kind of cultural loss, a forgetting. But perhaps this kind of forgetfulness is worth accepting--even worth cultivating. To remember animals and my concern for their well-being, I may need to lose certain tastes and find other handles for the memories that they once helped me carry. Remembering and forgetting are part of the same mental process. To write down one detail of an event is to not write down another (unless you keep writing forever). To remember one thing is to let another slip from remembrance. There is ethical as well as violent forgetting. We can't hold on to everything we've known so far. So the question is not whether we forget but what, or whom we forget--not whether our diets change, but how. Recently my friend and I started eating veggie sushi and going to the Italian restaurant next door. Instead of the turkey burgers my dad grilled, my children will remember me burning veggie burgers in the backyard. At our last Passover, gefilte fish held a less central place, but we did tell stories of the Exodus--that grandest of stories about the weak prevailing over the strong in the most unexpected of ways--new stories of the weak and strong were added. The point of eating those special foods with those special people at those special times was that we were being deliberate, separating those meals out from the others. Adding another layer of deliberateness has been enriching. I'm all for compromising tradition for a good cause, but perhaps in these situations tradition wasn't compromised so much as fulfilled.

Sitting at my place in the seder meal, talking about the weak Hebrew slaves somehow triumphing over the strong, Egyptian civilization, I couldn't help but look down at the plate of chicken and eggs and remember that many living creatures, humans and animals alike, are still living in slavery. How could I eat an animal who was killed so that I may remember the bonds of slavery to which the Hebrew people were subjected under the Egyptians? At this year's seder, my first vegan seder, I chose not to let one form of exploitation and slavery help me to remember another.

So what did I eat this Passover?

Here is a picture of the basic plate setting that each person was served: a chicken leg, an egg, a boiled potato, carrot, horseradish, onion, parsley, charoset and of course, lots of matzo.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of my full plate, sans chicken and egg, but I was able to keep the other items, as they were all vegan, as well as add some boiled cabbage and even some PICKLES, my favorite snack. :)



For such a small congregation, the place was packed!

Two rabbinical students from Hebrew Union College in the US visited and helped run the seder. During their year-long study abroad in Israel, HUC students can also visit congregations in the former Soviet Union and take part in the Passover meal. They were really nice guys, and it was nice to meet some other fellow Americans on such a celebratory holiday.

But BEWARE! In Ukraine, shank bones and eggs are no match for the danger and sheer abundance of mayonnaise-laden salads. Not only are they definitely not vegan-friendly, but I imagine that one bite of this would go straight to the arteries, haha. One babushka insisted that I try some, telling me that it was a "health food."

There's Arthur! He was born in Odessa, but lived in Israel for almost 20 years. I met him at the synagogue when I first came to Ukraine and we've been meeting every week since for a Hebrew-English language exchange. He's really a great guy. :)

This was definitely the most fun and interesting seder I have ever attended. Everyone was so warm and welcoming. I feel so thankful that we found such an inviting congregation in this city we call home.

SaM.