At Passover, eggs are a symbol and a staple
After many years of cooking for Passover, I know there are two must-have ingredients: the ever- present matzoh, in various forms, and eggs.
Without eggs, our ceremonial meal would be incomplete - and we couldn't produce an edible spongecake. Symbolically, they represent mourning, rebirth and the continuity of life, all part of this major Jewish holiday, which begins at sundown on March 30 this year. Passover commemorates the Exodus nearly 3,000 years ago when ancient Israelites broke free from 400 years of slavery in Egypt and, after wandering for 40 years in the desert, were reborn as a nation in the land of Israel.
For centuries since, Jews fulfill the biblical commandment to remember and retell the story of the Exodus with a special ceremony, the Seder. Symbolic foods, including eggs, are part of the story.
It is difficult to pinpoint exactly when a hard-cooked or roasted egg first appeared on the Seder plate, but it was certainly after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in A.D. 70. The egg was added in memory of the special festival sacrifice brought, along with roasted lamb, to the Temple as the Passover offering.
So it became customary in nearly all Jewish cultures that, at end of the Seder and before the parade of dinner food begins, hard-cooked eggs are eaten - dipped in salt water to remember the tears of the ancient Israelites and destruction of the Temple. In my home, Seder guests are served the Sephardic dish called huevos haminados: eggs cooked, uncovered, for long hours with onion skins, peppercorns, a pinch of salt and a layer of olive oil on top. The whites turn a nice light tan shade while the yolks lose their bright color and take on a lovely, creamy texture. Depending on various traditions, some haminados are cooked with vinegar, saffron, coffee grinds and/or purple onion skins in the water.
Beyond the Seder, the egg is at peak performance during Passover: in dishes like the iconic matzoh brei (fried matzoh) as well as in the abundance of baked goods that seem required for a holiday that, ironically, forbids the use of yeast and any food made from wheat, barley, oats, rye or spelt. The ban results from the fermentation and rise that begins when such grains come in contact with water for more than 18 minutes, making them leavened food ("chametz," in Hebrew) that is not kosher for Passover.
Why does this matter? When the Israelites left Egypt in haste in the middle of the night, there was no time for their daily bread's overnight rise. Instead, they wrapped up their bundles of dough and carried them into the desert, where the sun and heat baked them crisp and flat. We eat the flat matzoh to mark this festival of unleavened bread.
Passover baking today is a sort of a throwback to when eggs and egg whites were the main way to make food rise. It wasn't until the mid-19th century that baking soda and baking powder were introduced. Both are now manufactured in ways deemed suitable for Passover, but given the weightiness of nut flours and density of matzoh cake meal, eggs are necessary in savory and sweet dishes.
Spongecakes and flourless cakes get a lift with whipped egg whites folded in. Meringues are a Passover regular, with more than one good reason: They are easy to make, there are endless variations, they last for several days, and they seem impressive for those who have never tried making them. Trust me, making them is easier than you think.
The trick with egg whites is to beat the eggs long enough to whip lots of air into the whites, which also changes the shape of the egg proteins to allow for even more air to be trapped. Don't skimp on this step, and your meringues should be melt-in-the-mouth sweet.
Those yolks left over from making meringues can find a delicious home in egg drop soup. Recipes for it typically call for soy sauce, which as a fermented food is not permitted at Passover. The soup is also often made with chicken broth, but vegetable broth makes an excellent substitute. Whichever broth you like, imbue it with garlic, ginger and a touch of sesame oil for Asian flavor.
Baked kugels of potatoes, broccoli or carrots are popular among Eastern European Jews. Eggs bind those components and lighten the texture. One Sephardic version of a baked savory pudding that appears annually at my Seder is quajado, a dish dating to pre-Inquisition Jewish life in Spain. In fact, testimony against Jews during the Inquisition contains references to this dish, as being seen preparing it was enough for a guilty verdict, and imprisonment or worse.
There are many varied family recipes for quajado; most are traditionally made of leeks, eggplant, eggs and sometimes cheese. We often use the New World potato instead of eggplant, while leeks, a favorite ingredient of Spain's medieval Jews who grew it abundantly in home gardens, make the dish. Some people call quajado a frittata, but there is a difference: Quajado has more vegetables, less egg. Some versions for Passover mix in softened pieces of matzoh.
While it might be tempting to use liquid egg whites (sold in cartons) instead of separating eggs into yolks and whites, I have found that they do not whip up quite the same. The problem is that pasteurization of the packaged whites uses a heat process that changes the proteins. Consequently, those egg whites don't take on air as well, so you need to whip them two to three times longer to get close to the results you want.
I make sure to keep enough eggs on hand, which can mean at least two dozen - and that's not counting the ones used in all the baked treats and hard-cooked eggs consumed at my Seder. I always cook as many as a dozen extra for my own meals while I make the ones for the holiday table. The extras are then ready for a quick egg salad - one of my favorite matzoh toppers - or on their own for breakfast, lunch or a snack with a squeeze of lemon and some salt and pepper, just the way my father ate them.
Sliced eggs add protein to a salad and, if you're having company, deviled eggs make a fine Passover appetizer. I will also use eggs to bake holiday treats midweek, and in matzoh brei, of course.
Egg consumption continues a decadelong rise, with estimates that Americans eat more than 270 eggs per person each year. I certainly do my share at Passover.