Friday night (Good Friday as it turns out) marked the Eve of Passover, a
Jewish holiday celebrated by eating a lot of strange and sometimes unsavory
foods. Every year, as a token gesture of my observance (somewhat hypocritical
given the fact that I am not an “observant” Jew), I substitute matzo for leavened
bread for the week of Passover. I do not like matzo; it constipates me, it
tastes like cardboard, and has no redeeming nutritional value whatsoever. But I
eat it for Passover, just because we Jews like to celebrate our suffering. To
add insult to constipation, I can’t find matzo anywhere locally. This year I
took the bull by the horns and made my own.
Actually, it was my mother-in-law’s idea. Mom Taylor is a very clever
woman. She co-wrote the song “Every Time I Look at You” with my wife Shauna,
and that song was recorded by Vic Damone. She also came up with the brilliant
idea for me to write a song around the phrase “Nothing Buttafuoco,” back when
Joey Buttafuoco and Amy Fischer were the latest scandal. I could not resist
writing that song, and while not one of my finest, it does have a certain edgy
appeal. Anyhow, she convinced me to try making matzo.This kosher
food business puzzles me. How is it that a cracker made out of flour and water can
somehow be more valuable because some rabbi blessed it? To me, this is preposterous.
How hard can it be to make matzo, right? Not all that hard as it turns out. It
helps to have a pasta maker to roll out the dough, but then it’s just as simple
as baking it in a hot oven for a few minutes. Once I got the hang of it, I was
a regular matzo- making machine, cranking out homemade matzo for a third the
price. And it’s much better than the expensive, store-bought, kosher beaver
board commonly sold as Passover matzo. I actually like this homemade stuff, and
will likely make it again. It’s a good alternative to regular crackers and
chips, which often loaded with salt and preservatives. My mother-in-law had a great idea. Necessity is a
mother, so I did some inventing.
I got a belly laugh at something I read last week, which is at once politically
and religiously incorrect. Jann Arden
posted something on Good Friday wherein she referred to the holy day as the day
when Jesus rose from his tomb, saw his shadow, and went back in. That’s pretty
much what I’ve been doing as well this past month: laying low. I drove the ATV
over to pick up the mail yesterday afternoon and almost froze my tuchus off.
Seems I miscalculated the beginning of spring, again. I know it’s coming, but so is
Christmas.
IF STATUTORY RAPE COMES NATURALLY
IF SCHTUPING AMY FISHER IS YOUR CUP OF TEA
IF YOUR WIFE GETS SHOT BY THIS CRAZY TEEN
LOOK HERE, YOU'RE NOTHING BUTTAFUOCO
cho:
YOU STUPID BUTTAFUOCO DON'T YOU SEE IT'S CLEAR
IF YOU SCREW PSYCHO TEENS YOU'RE GOING TO LIVE IN FEAR
THEY SAY THAT LOVE CAN BE A MANY SPLENDORED THING
BUT LUST CAN GET YOU THREE TO FIVE IN OLD SING SING
IF AUTOS AREN'T THE ONLY BODIES YOU WORK ON
AND IF YOU THINK YOU'RE MASTER OF THE WOMEN YOU CON
WELL HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN WITH A GUN
YOU'D BETTER RUN YOU STUPID BUTTAFUOCO.
-From “Nothing
Buttafuoco”
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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