Alone But Not Alone

This Pesach will be a lonely holiday for many of us. It will be a long one as well, three days for us chutz l'aretz folk. 

For those who will have to be alone—as in alone alone—for Pesach, there is the concern that what sort of Seder could they possibly conduct? Ask the Mah Nishtana to oneself? Answer the questions oneself? 

Especially if one has happy memories of previous Sedarim surrounded by multitudes. Or at least one other person to share the experience with. 

A lot of our mitzvos have to be practiced in solitude nowadays. This isolation is a major adjustment for our communal programming. We are so used to Jewish practice along with our tribe that for some, it's akin to an identity crisis.

But I wonder: Have we forgotten the point? Sure, it's fun to do things with others—davening,  rituals, celebrations, meals, etc.—but the point of these practices isn't always the company.  It's service. Avodah. Which, in the end, is between Hashem and the individual.  

There is an article by Rabbi Pini Dunner that is circulating, telling over a story of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, as witnessed by Rabbi YY Jacobson. 

My Zeidy had been chummy with the Rebbe, and while not chassidish, he was quite the fan; this story confirms why. The Rebbe was an Eved Hashem. He could have a solitary Seder—by choice—because he saw it as a mitzvah, as opposed to a family dinner. 

Browsing through the Mishpacha Magazine website, I came across a story called "Night Light" by Michal Marcus, printed in 2016. The story is about a teenage girl who is feeling lost. Her parents have recently divorced; her mother is no longer frum, her father is tired and preoccupied,  her sister is newly married and wants to escape into her new life, her brother is away in yeshiva. There's only so many times she can knock on her friend's door. 

Shabbos now involves takeout and awkward silences with her father. Without the home-cooked meals, the warmth of family, the joyous flair, she struggles to hold on to Shabbos. 

The one person who is attuned to her predicament is her teacher, and after a disastrous Shabbos by her mother, she finds herself at her Morah's apartment.  

Her teacher lives alone, no family nearby. She explains to her student that she tried to get Shabbos right—while she didn't have the husband and kids yet, she could go to other homes and get it right there. But it still wasn't hitting the mark. 

She made Shabbos for herself. She felt odd busily preparing for one, eating for one, singing alone.

“And it hit me: Shabbos wasn’t about the challah and wine. It wasn’t about the husband and kids. It wasn’t even about zemiros. Shabbos was about Hashem. It was about His creation, all of it — including me. It was about all the beautiful things I enjoyed, and all the difficult ones I couldn’t understand. It was about finding the Source.”

She falls silent. The candle sputters. The room is draped in peace. “Once I realized that, it was fine having a meal alone. Do I wish my Shabbos was different? Of course. But the core I have. No one can take that away. Shabbos — all of life really — is just about the two of us: Hashem and me.”

This was the message the girl needed to hear. That even though there was no longer a happy, complete family, she still had Hashem, and Shabbos is their day together. 

Hashem redeemed all of us from Mitzrayim on Pesach. Pesach is not about the cute four-year-old lisping the Four Questions. It's an opportunity this year to dig deeper, to discover new insights, to reaffirm our connection Above, when we are cut off from those besides us.

The Beauty of Vegetables

I fell off the kugel wagon. In most cases, the vegetables have to be cooked, than baked again, doubling prep time. Whereas shoving them in the oven to roast and serving the results is prettier and less caloric. 

For Shabbos HaGadol I prepared my usual fare, which is actually perfect for Pesach; these veggies are beautifully colorful to boot, unlike the browns and beiges of cholent and potato kugel:

Red, orange, and yellow bell peppers, seasoned with garlic powder, sea salt, and pepper.

 Kabocha squash, seasoned with cinnamon and sea salt.

Red and sweet onions, seasoned with sea salt. 

Cauliflower, seasoned with paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. 

All were tossed in olive oil and baked at 350 degrees for differing times. Others roast their vegetables at higher heats.  

Pesach Recipe Roundup II

First, note the original Pesach Recipe Roundup.  

As Han astutely observed, I pretty much cook Pesach-dik all year round; I try to keep Shabbos sides low- or no-carb so we can party with challah. My go-to side is roasted kobocha squash sprinkled with some sea salt and cinnamon, which is rather simple and gets fought over (bake the squash at 350 for 20-30 minutes to make it easier to cut).   

Via seriouseats

Last week, some older kinfauna came for Shabbos. They brought along with them roasted red, orange, and yellow bell peppers with sweet potatoes, seasoned with salt and pepper. The pan arrived empty; they ate it all on the way over. 

I used to obsessively search for various new and exciting Pesach recipes. But it's one week. One can't do without some leavening or kitniyos for one week? OK, I can't make Han's favorite sugar snap peas. I don't make them every week anyway. 

The only Pesach-specific recipe I have are for cakes, and, well, we shouldn't need that many anyway. To quote Ma, "Cut up a cantaloupe." Tons of delicious fruit at our disposal, no prep required.

So as we exhale some terror, my ladies, my apologies for not yet posting how to make the full-proof year-round beloved paprikash. Because all roads lead to paprikash. 

The below are recipes that I make all year that happen to be Pesach-dik.

• Cauliflower Parsnip Leek Soup (more unofficial than official recipe)

• Marinated Mushrooms with Red Bell Peppers

• Cucumber Salad 

• Lemony Coleslaw: 1 bag coleslaw mix + ¼ cup each lemon juice, mayo, and brown sugar + salt and pepper. Toss and chill. (Like a mouthful of sunshine.) 

• Cauliflower Kugel with Mushrooms 

• Zucchini Kugel

• Lecsó (I haven't found Pesachdik hot paprika, but red pepper flakes will do)

• Spanish Eggplant Dip  

• Salmon-Veggie Mini Quiches (omit mustard, ketchup instead?)
  

• Stuffed Pepper

• Chicken Zucchini Fasírt (omit the sriracha, not so necessary. Can also use shredded carrots.)

• Pragmatic Attic's Intense Fudge Nuggets, Slightly Modified 

The Untried but Intriguing: 

• Quinoa Pizza Crust

• Shepherd's Pie with Cauliflower Topping   

• Melanzane Ripiene Di Carne and Jewlishious Stuffed Eggplant  

Salmon-Veggie Mini Quiches

Years ago, I came across a Pesach recipe for a salmon loaf. I was smitten. But I never got around to actually making it. There is little time to experiment before yuntiff, and I had to prioritize actual favorites, like sponge cake and strawberry fluff. 

Yet some bee entered my bonnet a few months ago, and I attempted it. Here was the curious thing: Han, who officially does not like fish, loved them, and is so far not sick of them.

It took some time to perfect. The original recipe called for breadcrumbs, and I like to keep Shabbos meals low in carbs because of all that challah. Then the muffin tin was utilized. You can also chuck everything into a pan instead, though. It should stay nice and firm.

For the carrots and zucchini, which are shredded, I use the large hole side of a grater. It takes no time at all. 

Salmon-Veggie Mini Quiches
(makes approx. 18)

1 onion, finely diced 

3 stalks celery, finely diced

1 carrot, shredded

1 medium zucchini, shredded and squeezed of water

2-3 cloves garlic, minced

2 six oz. cans salmon, drained (a little more is fine)

1 tablespoon dried parsely 

dill, fresh or dried, amount based on preference (I love dill)

juice from half a lemon

generous squirt of mustard (for Pesach, make that ketchup or omit)

black pepper (I don't add salt since canned fish has plenty)

3 eggs

Heat a little oil and sauté the onion. When translucent or whatever, scooch it over to the side of the pan and add the celery in one end, carrots the other. Let them go a little. When sufficiently limp, shove everyone over, then add the zucchini. Make sure to cook out whatever residual liquid there is in the zucchini. Add the garlic last, not to the pan, but to the vegetables, and cook a few minutes more, just enough to take the sharpness out of it. 

Scrape out the canned salmon into a bowl and mash 'em up. Add the vegetables, herbs, lemon juice, mustard, black pepper, mixing well. Beat the eggs in a separate bowl, then mix them in last.

Spoon mixture into muffin tins. I like silicone muffin liners even though they can be a pain to clean. If not, make sure tins are greased well. 

Place into 350 degree oven. 

Here, note the difference between actual muffin tins and disposable ones. Disposable tins will need an hour; actual muffin tins about 45 minutes. You can tell when the quiche are ready when they are firm to the touch.

Han likes them at room temp. Keeps very well in the fridge. 

Stuffed Pepper

I'm a sauce lover. Anything that involves a sauce, I'm there. I often ignore the ikkur (i.e. meatballs). Just sauce me. 

Stuffed cabbage is the stereotypical dish of my people, but Ma has always preferred preparing its close sibling, stuffed pepper. Not much difference between the two, except that stuffing pepper is an easier task than pre-wilting cabbage leaves and carefully folding the contents therein. 

My household has now entered an age of new and improved eating, which usually means that old-timey favorites may require . . . reinvention.

How does the classic stuffed pepper go? (1) canned tomato sauce = copious sodium. (2) white rice = unnecessary carbs/little nutritional value (3) red meat = obvious reasons, as well as the fact that I'm not crazy about beef. I like birds. (4) green peppers = aesthetically lacking. 

Research commenced. Recipes were summoned. Grated vegetables appeared in many, replacing the rice. Others used red, orange, and yellow peppers, turkey and chicken instead of cow. 

Although, none that I could find used tomato sauce. Philistines. I don't need you. I would note, however, that at least one pepper should be green, since that adds an extra dimension to tomato.

The results of the first attempt were quite tasty, minor tweaks required. The joy of stovetop cooking is that rarely are exact recipes needed, more of a general guideline. 

Various recipes used various quantities of various vegetables; I used some of each, to palatable delight. So one doesn't need to use specifically what I used below; mixing, matching, and omitting is fine. 

Stuffed Pepper—Vague Guideline (please alter/improvise) 

4-5 bell peppers, one green (try to select peppers that will stand in a pot)

1 lb ground meat (I like chicken) 

2 carrots, grated*

2 zucchinis, grated*

1 onion, grated (or shallots, or scallions, or leeks)*   

2 stalks celery, grated*

2-3 fresh mushrooms, grated* 

4 cloves garlic, grated/minced

hefty gratings of black pepper 

squirt of mustard
squirt of sriracha

1 spoonful tomato paste (from the below jar)  

     Sauce:

(one can also sauté an onion for the base)

1 15 oz. jar diced/crushed tomatoes

1 6 oz. jar tomato paste

1 tablespoon honey/sugar

1 tablespoon to ¼ cup vinegar/wine  

generous sprinkle of Italian seasoning (oregano and/or basil will do) 

shake of red pepper flakes 

1. Buzz vegetables of choice through the grating blade in the food processor. Heat oil in bottom of pot, pouring in these vegetables to sweat down a little, along with the spoonful of paste. Initially cover, then remove lid as the heat builds. The intent is not to caramelize, but to shoo out some liquid. Stir from time to time. When they are at the desired limp state, remove from heat. 

2. While the above is shvitzing, prepare the peppers. Carefully cut off the tops, trying to keep them whole, if possible (if not, no biggie). Remove seeds with knife, fingers, serrated spoon. For steadier standing, slightly slice the bottom bumps to make them more level.

3. Being careful not to overwork the meat, mix in, along with the seasonings, about half the vegetables.

4. Stuff the peppers, and place them aside. 

5. Heat a little more oil (if sautéing an onion, this is your moment) and add all sauce ingredients and remaining buzzed veggies. Tomato sauce can burn easily, so keep an eye on the flame once it reaches a vigorous simmering point. 

6. Once tomato sauce is good and hot, carefully add the peppers. (I miscalculated the roominess of my pot, and had to move some peppers and sauce into another.)

7. Cook for about an hour, checking to make sure nothing "sticks."

8. I was very, very happy.

*Vegetable quantities is based on preference. No hard rules here. Leave them out; add more of others. Your call. (A recipe I recently discovered for stuffed cabbage uses cauliflower to replace the rice. That's also an option.)    

Kid-Tested, Aunt-Approved Cookies

It began with Pragmatic Attic's Intense Fudge Nuggets; it was love at first taste. When I initially made them, they did this adorable thing in the oven which was swell up to a quasi-meringue state. But the following Pesach, maybe because I had a new mixer or I did something different in assembly, they all emerged flat. Delicious, but flat. 

No no no. I had them once as quasi-meringues; I would have them again. I say "quasi-meringues" because the interior isn't dry like a standard meringue, but almost fudgey; crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. This cookie was not going to defeat me. I proceeded to fiddle. It took some time and many, many bags of chocolate chips.

1) I discovered that the full ½ cup of cocoa weighs the batter down, so I cut it back to ¼ cup. It's still very chocolatey.

2) During the rest of the year (as opposed to Pesach) I use evaporated cane juice (not white sugar), and the large size of the granules also brought the batter low. So I pulverized some in the spice grinder, resulting in a confectionery-like powder. Now, the sugar easily melds into the whites. Stunning. That means that less is needed.

Before . . .

. . . After

White sugar would be fine as well. 

3) While PA's recipe does not call for whipping up the whites separately, in order to achieve the texture I sought, I discovered it was necessary. Sigh.

4) Sifting the cocoa makes a REAL difference. I place a small fine-mesh strainer over the bowl and tap it through. No effort at all.

5) It took me FOREVER to figure out the ideal oven temp and time. The niece who LOVES these doesn't like it when the exterior is chewy (the result of higher heat and shorter baking time), although no one else had any complaints. But I really like that niece. I think she looks like me. My nephew thinks she looks like me, too. Although no one else sees it.  

*Ingredient suggestions: (a) Ma discovered Bakto Flavors vanilla sugar in Homegoods that has actual bits of vanilla in there. Trust me, it ain't remotely like the other ones with "natural and artificial flavors." (b) I use high cocao content chocolate chips, and the kinfauna are none the wiser. Enjoy Life's has 69%, and my local kosher supermarket carries California Gourmet, boasting 45-48%.   

Pragmatic Attic's Slightly Modified Intense Fudge Nuggets (gluten-, oil-, and flour-free, Pesach friendly)

(approximately 25 cookies)   

2 egg whites

½ cup sugar (pulverized optional)

2 tbsp vanilla sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract 

1 tsp instant coffee (I require decaf) 

¼ cup cocoa (a little more would be fine)

½ cup to 1½ cups chocolate chips

1) Beat egg whites. When they get white and foamy, slowly add the sugar and vanilla sugar, allowing it to get incorporated bit by bit. 

2) When the whites are stiff and whatnot, mix in the coffee. Then lower the speed, and add the extract. 

3) Sift in cocoa, then fold in by spatula. (It'll look scary for a few minutes, but it's all good.)

4) Fold in chocolate chips. My family doesn't like so much chips so I opt for about ½ to 1 cup. 

5) Spoon out delicate batter on parchment paper-lined cookie sheet. Place in 300° convection/325° standard oven. 

6) Bake for 12 minutes. DO NOT OVERBAKE.*

7) Leave in oven (door closed) for a minimum of ten minutes. Remove and allow to cool before plucking off the sheet. Keeps well on countertop in container. (Not that they last so long.)

*I have also successfully doubled the recipe, filling two cookie sheets. Halfway through, I switched the trays for even baking.     

Brownie Epic Fail

Experimentation can be rewarding. Unless the experiment fails.

I tried three new brownies this Pesach. Why? Well, The Ultimate Pesach Sponge Cake is divine, but composed of simple sugars. Since it contains little of substance, one can easily consume an entire cake without any sensation of satiety. 

The sort of cake where I could have better "healthy" success would be a brownie. Chocolate shields a multitude of questionable filling ingredients. But it would also have to freeze well. All of our baked yummies go in the freezer, and we like 'em cold upon consumption. Waiting to defrost is not an option. It has to be cut-able in the frozen state. 

After seven sponge cakes were churned out and popped into cold storage, I began to dabble. 

1. Avocado Brownie; 

2. 5 Ingredient Paleo Chocolate Cake; and

3. Flourless Chestnut Brownies.

After all three were safely frozen, I began to sample. 

Brownie #1 froze the best of all contenders. But there was a slight avocado flavor lingering in the depths. The kinfauna (and their parents) would revolt. Could have been sweeter, too

Brownie #2 had two problems. Firstly, while it calls for a bake time of an hour, and I took it out early, it tasted distinctly overdone. It probably doesn't need more than a half hour. Secondly, chances are due to the high water content of the date paste, it was difficult to cut frozen. 

However, it performed wonderfully at room temp. I plan on playing with the methodology soon.

Brownie #3 called for 1/4 cup of honey, and I used date paste instead. I don't know if it was because of that, but it froze rock hard. A buzzsaw was needed. Also, it obviously wasn't sweet enough.

After flinging my hands skyward, I considered: Why couldn't I simply slightly modify the hailegeh year-round brownie recipe? I had wanted to try replacing the flour with oat bran so my gluten-intolerant nephew could enjoy it, but my sister nay-sayed it, claiming it wouldn't work. Well, to heck with it: I would replace the flour with ground chestnuts. 

Vered's Whole Wheat Brownies

It worked. 

I beat together the eggs, sugar, and three tablespoons of vanilla sugar (since vanilla extract isn't Pesach available). In a separate bowl, I thoroughly whisked together the cocoa and ground chestnuts for a few minutes, since I didn't want to make a mess sifting it together (which would be the best way). After mixing the oil into the eggs, I then carefully poured the cocoa and chestnuts into to the egg mixture with the beaters going on the slowest setting. As soon as combined, I turned the machine off. 

The batter was the prettiest I had dealt with so far. Probably ground nuts would work as well. Maybe it doesn't even need a half cup of anything to replace. (In my research on date paste as an alternative to sugar, it is usually substituted one for one. So the Paleo cake is almost identical to the "good" brownie, since it relies on a copious cup of cocoa to compensate for no flour.)  

I took out the brownie too early—so it doesn't photograph well—but it tastes fabulous while being cut-able. There's no getting around the hefty amount of sugar, I guess. Will experiment (dun-dun-dun!) with less. 

MATZAH!!!

To my family, Pesach matzah is a beloved delicacy. My siblings and I fought over and continue to fight over it. Even the tzigekiminer who initially watched on, baffled at our violence, quickly converted to our ways. They starting battling over them as well, even those with machine-matzah minhagim. 

Come to the Dark Side; we have matzah.

Any leftovers are lovingly hoarded (in a hiding place that shall remain unrevealed lest Luke discovers it) throughout the rest of the year. Usually around Chanukah-time the last piece is treasured and savored to the triumphal send-off of imaginary trumpets. 

Hant matzah is so. Damn. Good. 

Here's the thingy: We ain't the only ones to think so. The front cover's of this week's Sunday Review was plastered with this article (and that illustration) by chef and restaurateur Dan Barber, cooing about the tastiness of hant matzah. 

 

Apparently, all the complex laws in keeping the wheat for shmurah results in a yummier matzah. 

Can't wait for my rezeveh Shatzer matzahs! Oh, the suspense! 

The Silicone Spatula and Other Doohickies

One for fleishigs, milchigs, and pareve. It will change your life. 

Silicone is heat- and freezer-proof. Spatulas have that whippy, sharp-edged form to thoroughly scrape and stir. Combine the two, and cooking will never be the same. 

Instead of using metal flatware that scrape my beautiful pots, or fumbling with an inefficient wooden spoon, I can flip and mix the boiling and the bubbling. When it is time to serve, I can get every fleck out of the pot. 

Note not all are created the same. Some may be too thick in the center, some not quite sharp enough along the edge, some just too dang heavy. Experiment. Read reviews. 

Ma found this one by Zyliss in Homegoods, and it is has a sacred spot in the milchig sink (with a multitude of backups in the basement, when each officially cries uncle). It was originally meant only for the morning oat bran and scrambled eggs of breakfast. 

Via gq.com

Once those once mundance cooking processes had been converted into religious experiences, she scurried out and bought other brands in different colors to differentiate for pareve. Then when one became accidentally fleishigs, we were all, "Hey, why didn't we do this sooner?"     

There are plenty others to try. Getting every drop of paprikás sauce onto a plate is so much fun.

As for other doohickies: 

For Pesach, we have no food processor. The year-round one gets little use as it is. 

But there are a few recipes that could use a chopping tool, like charoses, so we had a hand-cranked version that could also be used on yontif. When the blades became dangerously dull, I browsed online for a replacement. 

I bought the Chef'n VeggiChop Hand-Powered Food Processor. It's cool, you pull on the string on top like a lawn mower to get it going. It's not very large—about three cups—but it is smartly designed for easy use, everything interlocking neatly and competently. 

I used it for the first time to liquefy an avocado for a Pesach brownie on Sunday (don't ask, haven't yet tasted the results) and it did a great job. It was fun, too. 

Zyliss also has a model, and Brieftons has a four cup version, if one desires something roomier.  

Cauliflower is King

Cauliflower is a brilliantly versatile vegetable. Besides for being yummy in its own right, it can craftily be utilized in previously carb-crazy recipes. Such as pizza. Or sushi. And—which, like, totally blew my mind—potato salad. Potato salad! POTATO SALAD!!!

I served steamed cauliflower with Ta's paprikás, and he, the pasta lover, actually affectionately referred to it as "nokedli." High praise indeed. One doesn't use the term "nokedli" idly.

Inspired by a NY Times article, I tried roasting cauliflower whole. It was daubed with a concoction composed of olive oil, nutritional yeast, mustard, and garlic. One can just stick to oil, salt, and pepper, though. Then a little time in a 350 oven.

Now, ain't that purdy?

For the Purim seudah I tried a Cauliflower-Parsnip-Leek Soup, and holy mackerel, was it delicious. I based it off a few recipes, so the ingredients (and cooking times) aren't an exact science. Since I blended it, nothing has to be chopped beautifully.

The pot before . . .

I thoroughly sweated (not browned) 1 onion and 3 leeks (green parts too), along with a few shakes red pepper flakes, in some oil for 10-15 minutes. I then added 6 chopped parsnips, and stirred them thoroughly in, and let 'em go for a bit, too, until nice and fragrant. 4 cloves of garlic around now, too. Then 2 chopped heads of cauliflower. Another stir into the divine oiliness. Some salt, too, to help everything wilt. 

I leisurely let it all sweat some more, then eventually added some soy milk (water is also fine). I was cautious with the liquid because one can always add more water; taking it back is not possible (vegetables also let out tons of H2O). Simmer, simmer, simmer. At some point, the stinkiness of the cauliflower morphs into a deliriously sweet aroma. When everything is nice and limp, sprinkle in some black pepper (and more salt if desired), and blend. The results may be thick enough to require more liquid; do add and blend, until ideal texture is reached. 

. . . the pot after. Licked and scraped clean, I kid you not.

I had been nervous about freezing it, that maybe the pretty paleness would go all dingy, but no. It remained an appealing cream shade, not a hint of gray. 

Don't forget about cauliflower fried rice. And cauliflower popcorn! There's mashed cauliflower, too. OMG, OMG, cauliflower shepherd's pie!!! We have a winner!

Pesach doesn't have to mean potatoes. This non-brocker has been redeemed!     

Spice, Not Salt + Lecsó

I officially don't like spicy food. I never understood the appeal of barbecue potato chips, like my elementary school classmates did. For me, caramelized onions and minced garlic are perfection, thank you very much.

When I became conscious of salt content in food, and how I can distinctly pinpoint the water retention and desperate thirstiness as a result, I wondered what spices out there could mimic the divinity of salt without the side effects.

I was surprised to discover that red pepper flakes, of all things, do a great job. The secret is that a little goes a long way, especially in a big pot of soup or in a simmering stew. A few shakes, and the dish is savory, not salty. And yet, my tongue is unsinged. 

 

It has become a pantry staple. I chuck it fearlessly into the weekly soup I prepare for my lunches. It goes into paprikás. It goes into the newly reclaimed lecsó. 

The lecsó is now a fridge basic; a new one has to be churned up every few days, it disappears so quick. If I need to jazz up a side dish, I just chuck a few spoonfuls of lecsó to meld together with vegetables or grains. The other Sunday, to bulk Shabbos leftover chicken for Ta's supper, two chopped zucchini were simmered with a few dollops of lecsó for about ten minutes. Ta commented—twice—how good it tasted. "Paprika," he sighed happily. It was the pepper flakes, I'm sure. 

Babi used to make it with eggs. But it plays so well with nearly everything.  

Below is the recipe inspired by Zsuzsa and modified by Ma. Pesach-friendly! 

Lecsó

1 onion, thinly sliced into half-moons
6 bell peppers, orange and yellow, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon paprika
not quite a teaspoon to 1 teaspoon of hot paprika (depending on preference)*
2-3 shakes red pepper flakes (optional)
1 tablespoon, heaping, brown sugar
1 14 oz. can of crushed, diced, or chopped tomatoes**
1 can mushrooms (optional)

1. Saute onion in oil for 5-7 minutes on medium flame. 
2. Add the minced garlic and paprika (to infuse in the oil) both regular and hot, and/or a sprinkle of red pepper flakes, for less than a minute. 
3. Then the peppers, for 5 minutes.
4. If so inclined, a can of mushrooms as well, and add another 5 minutes.
5. Add the tomatoes and brown sugar.
6. Simmer on low to medium flame (tomato sauce can burn very easily) for 20 minutes, covered. 

*I have not been able to find Pesachdik hot paprika. Then the red pepper flakes can be relied on for kick. 

**Alternatively: 1/2 carton of Pomi chopped tomatoes. For Pesach, the least sodium-riddled option I've found is the Lieber's San Marzano canned tomatoes. Actual tomatoes would work fine as well, if simmered long enough. 
  

—Good hot, cold, or room temp. Excellent for challah dipping.    

Pesach Recipe Roundup

Here's a list of recipes for Pesach (and all year round) that I've tried and loved: 

○ Bais Yaakov Cookbook's Roasted Garlic Zucchini Soup (page 10. No soup mixes needed; use less water than called for to intensify the flavor; less onions and leeks are also fine) 

○ Butternut Squash Soup (add onion if not suffering from acid reflux)
○ What's Cooking?'s Potato Kneidlach (for the fellow non-brockers) 

Via Food.com, by "Delicious as it Looks"

○ Cucumber Salad/Coleslaw 
○ Overtime Cook's Tri-color Pepper Salad 
○ Baba Ganoush (no nutritional yeast, chili/red pepper flakes instead of sriracha) 

○ Roasted Vegetables
○ Lecsó/Ratatouille

○ Spaghetti Squash "Lukshen" Kugel (milchig)

○ Cauliflower Pizza Crust
 

○ Strawberry Fluff 

○ Sponge Cake

○ Pragmatic Attic's Intense Fudge Nuggets: These are an absolute miracle. No oil, only two egg whites, no potato starch, and a reasonable amount of sugar. Every other recipe I could find for Pesach cookies consisted of three cups of confectionery sugar or an entire cup of oil!

Easy to make, these have a light, almost meringue-y consistency, yet are soft and divinely satisfying. I have found that by turning off the oven at the 8-minute-mark and leaving them in for another few minutes, they swell in size while nurturing a gooey center. After removing from the oven, allow them to cool before storage. They are INSANE out of the freezer.  I have two batches currently in mine.

○ Chestnut-Date Balls   

My results of Pragmatic Attic's Intense Fudge Nuggets

The below are recipes I would like to try, but have not yet: 

○ Rita Nakouzi's Shredded Green Cabbage Salad with Lemon and Garlic: My palate is full-on Hungarian, which means that cabbage ranks rather high. In a holiday of too much fats, I like a coleslaw option that's less mayo and more garlic.

○ Mazel Munch's Pesach Shepherd's Pie: I would use safflower oil instead of margarine, personally, but all of my food fantasies come back to shepherd's pie, perhaps simply because I just love love love potatoes.

○ Tamar Ansch's Salisbury Steaks in Mushroom Sauce: I love ground meat, I love mushrooms, I love sauce.  

○ Vichna Belsky's Chocolate Quinoa Cake or Cupcakes: This is a variation of a popular online gluten-free yet still nutritious dessert. Pragmatic Attic uses coffee instead of the dairy-free milk, which means I don't have to purchase kosher l'Pesach almond milk, which I otherwise don't need. I am psyched about it because it is filling, unlike most non-gebrocks desserts. It can also be made into a two-tier cake with frosting of choice.

Lecsó/Ratatouille

Lecsó is a classic Hungarian dish, officially consisting of a variety of peppers. As a child I visited a fellow Hungarian classmate's home, and was delighted to discover her mother added sliced hot dogs to hers (I was young and foolish then).

Ma's has evolved into a completely different being, more akin to ratatouille, in that hers consists of zucchini, rather than peppers. But we still call it lecsó. It is rather simple to prepare, and plays well with others—fish, meat, pasta, potatoes, etc. It is also ideal for Pesach. 

Lecsó/Ratatouille   

 
1 onion, sliced or chopped

4-6 zuchinni, depending on size, chopped

1 eggplant, chopped (optional)

2 garlic cloves, minced 

2 shakes red chili flakes 

1/8 t. oregano

1/4 t. basil 

1 T brown sugar
squirt of ketchup

salt (soy sauce for the heathens) and pepper 

shake of dill (optional) 

Begin by sautéing the onion in a little oil. Caramelized is best, of course, so spend a solid three minutes gently coaxing it to a golden shade. 

Then add the garlic (garlic burns easily, so baby it) and red chili flakes.

Then the squash and non-mandatory eggplant. 

Then season with the herbs, ketchup, sugar, salt, and pepper. Stir.

Cover and simmer. Zucchini contains a lot of water, which will ooze out. 20 minutes should do it. DO NOT overcook it. Squishy zucchini is not appealing. If less liquid is desired, take the lid off close to the end to evaporate the excess water.

I enjoy mine with a dollop of cottage cheese and/or plain Greek yogurt.