The only time of year that I really spend much time thinking about matzo is Passover. This year, my annual spring trip to Chicago came earlier than the usual official opening date for spring, and Passover got itself scheduled later than usual this year, which meant that the window of opportunity to even think about buying any kind of matzo passed me over.
But it’s just as well. Manischewitz put its production of my beloved white grape matzo on hiatus. Who cares about the Tam Tam shortage of 2008? I’m bereft and verklempt over not having white grape matzo, a variety so rare than many Jews aren’t even aware that it exists. And yes, I know that the white grape matzo isn’t even kosher for Passover except for the sick and the old. It’s the thought that counts in my book.
Oh, well. There are never any matzo to be found in Morelia anyway. We’ll have to settle for Passover tortillas. This is a household, after all, where Gumby on a Latke appeared during Chanukkah back around 5758, the year before the famed dinner where I completely forgot to light the candles.
And nope, I’m not going to cry for my poor brethren in Argentina who’ll have no brisket on their tables this year.