Haroset, a Passover Delight

Turkish Haroset

In all honesty, I have never met a haroset I didn’t like, and there are probably nearly as many different haroset as there are Jews!  I always have three or four at my Seder and sometimes a guest brings their own favorite.

Haroset is that mixture at Passover Seders that is evocative of the mortar and bricks the Israelite slaves made and used to erect Pharoah’s warehouses and other buildings (although probably not the pyramids, but that’s another story). The word "haroset" comes from the Hebrew word "cheres" meaning "clay,” and a Greek Jewish tradition is to put a little pinch of clay in the haroset. And yet, with all this symbolism, haroset is the only element on the Seder plate that is not explained during the Seder and the word itself is not mentioned in the Torah. 

So why is haroset even part of the symbolic foods for the Seder? Many of us are familiar with the part in the Haggadah that says “They embittered the Jews’ lives with hard labor in brick and mortar.” This comes from a longer verse in Exodus where the idea for haroset originated.

The Egyptians enslaved the children of Israel with back-breaking labor, and they embittered their lives with hard labor, with clay and with bricks and with all kinds of labor in the fields -- all their work that they worked with them with back-breaking labor. (1:13-14)

The Talmud debates whether eating haroset at the Seder is a mitzvah or not, including a story of the spice-sellers in Jerusalem yelling out their shop windows "Spices for the mitzvah!" The essence of haroset in the Talmud is not that it should be sweet, but that it should be thick like mud or mortar and tart, like apples from trees in the ancient Egyptian orchards where women would go to deliver babies away from Egyptian eyes after Pharoah commanded killing any male babies born to Israelites. 

Another beautiful meaning for haroset is that it turns something negative—the years of backbreaking work as slaves—into something positive. When we eat it, we also commemorate the spiritual redemption bestowed upon the Israelites when God redeemed us from Egypt. 

There is no such thing as a definitive haroset recipe as haroset-making is very much a reflection of available ingredients and cuisines of the many countries that Jews have called home. It’s no surprise that haroset from Eastern European Jews features apples and nuts, which was probably all that was left of fruit in cellars after the long winter. Persian haroset, on the other hand, can feature as many as seven or more fruits and four or five nuts. 

Turkish haroset recipes vary greatly by region, city, family history and preferences, from Romaniote Jews, descendants of Jews who lived in what is now modern Turkey, Greece and Italy since the first century BCE, to Sephardic Jews, descendants of Spain’s Jews who found safe haven in the Ottoman Empire after the Inquisition and expulsion starting in the 12^th century. This is my father’s family background and where I get my love for all things and tastes Sephardic. 

Regardless of these variations, nearly all Turkish haroset recipes use apricots and oranges, two of the region’s most important food crops. Often the haroset is cooked which dates back to the earliest haroset traditions in what is now Iran, Iraq and Syria. Notice that there is no wine in this haroset. It turns out thick and naturally sweet, almost like a jam. It’s also an excellent nut-free option for haroset.

Making haroset is delightfully imprecise and subject to the preparer’s taste and many other variations as nearly every ingredient can be adjusted to personal preference. So, taste as you go and feel free to add the word “about” in front of any ingredient to put your own touch on your haroset. Whatever you make will soon become part of your own special Passover traditions.

Turkish Haroset

• 1 cup pitted dates 

• 10-12 dried apricots, about 1 cup

• 1 large orange, peeled and sectioned without the pith and pits 

• ¼ teaspoon cinnamon or to taste 

• ½ cup walnuts, finely chopped (optional)

Put fruits in a small pot. Cover with just enough water and bring to a simmer over medium. Turn the heat to medium low, and cook until apricots and dates are tender enough to mash with a fork, about 40 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add small amounts of water if needed during cooking so the mixture doesn’t burn. When fruits are very soft, mash them together until blended into a chunky paste. Alternatively, pulse just a few quick times in a food processor so all the fruit is blended, but not too smooth. Stir in the cinnamon if using. Add nuts if using, reserving a few for the top, and mix well. Serve cold or at room temperature, garnished with the extra nuts or an extra orange section or two.  Keeps for about a week in the refrigerator and can be frozen, then defrosted when time to serve. Makes about 1 1/2 to 2 cups.