The History and Symbolism of Haroset... With Recipes!

We're taking a break from henna-related posts to compile some resources about haroset, a traditional Passover food. We'll be back to henna after the holiday!

The Passover seder includes a series of symbolic foods placed on a seder plate, most of which are explained over the course of the meal: the matzah, the parsley, the bitter herbs, the shankbone... But one element is left unexplained: the haroset, a paste-like mixture of fruit, nuts, and spices, differing wildly in recipe from community to community. Although it is eaten with matza and maror during korekh, just before the meal, there is no discussion of its significance or acknowledgement of its symbolism.

Haroset is not mentioned in the Biblical descriptions of Passover, which stipulate only the eating of a sacrificial lamb (qorban pesah) with unleavened bread (matza) and bitter herbs (maror). The word haroset first appears in the Mishnah (Pesahim 10:3) and seems to be related to the Hebrew heres or harsit, meaning clay. The sages explain that haroset is part of the seder (along with matza, greens, and two cooked dishes) but not obligatory; Rabbi El'azar ben Tsadoq disagrees and maintains that haroset is, in fact, part of the mitzva of Pesah.

Expanding on the Mishnah, the Talmud (BT Pesahim 115b-116a) explains that haroset was used for dipping the greens into, and that before Passover the spice merchants of Jerusalem used to call out, “Come, buy the spices for the mitzva [of haroset]” (implying that it was part of the commandment). The Jerusalem Talmud (JT Pesahim 10:3) notes that it is also called dukkeh because it is pounded [dakha] into a paste. The Babylonian Talmud adds that the haroset was thought to counteract something in the maror called kappa — a bad enzyme? kind of worm? — but leaving the maror in too long, one rabbi warned, would allow the sweetness of the haroset to neutralize the essential bitterness of the maror.

Maror, apparently a giant artichoke, in the Sarajevo Haggada
(Barcelona, ca. 1350).

But what does the haroset represent? The haroset is often explained as symbolizing the clay that the Israelites used to make bricks during their labour in Egypt. So then why is it so good? Haroset is one of the most popular foods at the seder, and it is usually consumed in much larger quantities than the bitter herbs or even the parsley. If it symbolizes the hard work of slavery, then fruit and spices are not the immediate logical choices.

How do You Say Henna in Yiddish? A Russian Jew Discovers Henna and Other Encounters

I am super excited to be offering henna at the Toronto-based Ashkenaz Festival, a celebration of contemporary global Jewish arts and culture, and spreading awareness of the long and rich history of henna in Jewish communities around the world.

Ashkenaz began as a festival of Yiddish music; Ashkenaz literally means ‘Germany’ in Hebrew and refers to the Jewish communities of Eastern Europe, known as Ashkenazim. While my own family is of Ashkenazi background, my work with henna has led me to the Jews of North Africa, Yemen, Central Asia, and elsewhere — that is, the non-Ashkenazi world.

When people think of "Ashkenaz", the first images that usually come to mind are Yiddish (the Judeo-German language historically spoken by Ashkenazi Jews), klezmer music, the shtetl, the Lower East Side, Fiddler on the Roof... But usually not henna.

Thus, some of my friends thought it was surprising that I would be offering henna at a festival called “Ashkenaz,” and one even asked somewhat sarcastically, “Well, how do you even say henna in Yiddish?” 

The truth is that I myself never imagined that I would come across Yiddish in my henna research… Wrong, as usual! In honour of the upcoming festival I thought I’d bring up a few fun points of encounter between henna and Yiddish. If you've always wondered how to say 'henna' in Yiddish, wait no longer! And feel free to stop by this weekend if you're in Toronto.

"The Henna is Here, Mix It": Armenian Traditions of Henna Use

I had an amazing time teaching, learning, hennaing, and getting hennaed at the Henna Gathering conference in Connecticut this past weekend. I gave three presentations: Henna in Judaism, The Ancient History of Henna, and Henna in the Middle Ages, and I was so grateful that many people attended all three and asked interesting, engaging questions.

Armenian girls in formal dress, Tiflis, ca. 1890

One lovely participant asked me whether I knew anything about henna traditions in Armenia, and unfortunately she had to be satisfied with my simple answer that I was sure that they did henna in Armenia but that I didn’t know much beyond that. I felt that she deserved a better answer than that, so I thought I’d do a little research and see what I could come up with.

Modern Armenia is located between Turkey and Iran, two countries which have had long henna traditions, and Armenian culture has much in common with neighbouring traditions. So it’s no surprise that henna was used in Armenia as well as among Armenian communities in Persia and Turkey, as well as by other Caucasian groups like Georgians, Circassians, Azeris, and others. 

While I have seen records of Jewish henna use among Kurdish, Persian, Turkish, and Georgian Jews, I have not yet seen any source describing henna use among Armenian Jews. However, I would not be surprised if they did use henna — this has more to do with the paucity of sources on Armenian Jewish culture than anything else. There's also a small minority of Armenian Muslims, with even fewer sources for research. Thus, in this post when I talk about 'Armenians' I am referring to Christian Armenians, whether in present-day Armenia or elsewhere, belonging either to the Armenian Apostolic or Armenian Catholic Church.