THE HEALING PROPERTIES OF MATZA Pre-Pesach Lecture 5780-2020 with Rabbi Eliezer Wolf

BUBBE MAASOS? Chicken Soup Really Is 'Jewish Penicillin' For Your Cold. Mom Was Right. By Kate Bratskeir, Huffpost If you were brought up by a Jewish mother, chances are you have been prescribed a hot bowl of chicken soup at a time you felt under the weather. Dr. Mom may have insisted it was a type of "Jewish penicillin," that it would lessen your sniffles and perk you right up. She was, in some regard, correct. In a 2000 study published in the journal of the American College of Chest Physicians, researchers found that chicken soup could help reduce upper-respiratory inflammation, which leads to those annoying qualities of a cold, like a stuffy head and incessant sneezing. Many doctors believe that colds are caused by viral infections. The body responds to these infections by sending over white blood cells to take charge, though they are not really effective in killing the virus. Instead, they lead to those cold-like symptoms that make you feel crummy. Stephen Rennard, M.D, Larson Professor of Medicine at the University of Nebraska Medical Center and one of the study's leaders, found that fewer white blood cells attempted to be heroes when the body had chicken soup in its system. The soup had some "very modest but clearly measurable" ability to promote an anti-inflammatory activity, he explained in a UNMC video about the research (watch here). Even more, fluids -- not specific to soup alone -- loosen congestion and support hydration. One thing that is specific to homemade soup is that it's inherently made with compassion. This is the "TLC factor," as Rennard put it. "If you're feeling ill, it's good to have somebody take care of you. That's actually not a placebo." As they say, there's nothing like a mother's love. "The fact that someone's making a fuss over you when you are feeling badly is real support. There's biological proof in that," he said. Rennard says that this particular "old wives tale" has "legs" and exists in many cultures. Grandma's chicken soup is prescribed around the world because it has anecdotally made people feel better. "It's not the individual ingredients that anyone ever advocates." As he explained, "nobody ever recommends boiled carrots," even though these probably contain active ingredients that would help.

Matzo Balls As Medicine, Plus Tips For The Best Ball Soup www.fountainview.org FountainView at College Road is a glatt kosher senior living community that has matzo ball soup on the menu in Rockland County, NY. Bubbe Was Right! While there is no cure for the common cold, research over the past fifteen years has shown that chicken soup does actually help with symptoms. The heat of the soup, the carbohydrates in the matzo balls, the extra liquid for hydration, and the chemical properties of the broth all combine to help the body power through a cold. And, in addition to the medicinal benefits, matzo ball soup provides a comforting taste of home. The Science of Comfort In a popularly cited study, Dr. Stephen Rennard of the University of Nebraska Medical Center in Omaha conducted laboratory tests to determine why chicken soup might help with colds. He found that in volunteers who ate chicken soup (his wife’s family recipe), the soup inhibited the movement of certain infection fighting white blood cells. This is actually positive: Rennard theorizes that less movement of these cells means fewer upper respiratory symptoms. That’s good news for seniors – or anyone – struggling with congestion and headaches while a cold runs its course. Add to that the benefits of vitamins A, C, and D in the broth, the anti-inflammatory properties of the soup vegetables, and a boost of energy from the carbohydrates in the matzo balls, and you’ve got a recipe for feeling better!

WHAT THE RABBI TAUGHT THE FARMER Why Is This Matzo Different From All Other ? By Dan Barber, NYTimes April 15, 2016 SEVERAL years ago, at a family Seder, I tasted a matzo I actually liked. It was misshapen and lightly burned, distinguishing it from the machine-made matzo of my youth. And this one possessed something that I had never experienced with matzo: It had flavor. … For the first time I ate matzo and thought, This is delicious. In the spirit of the Four Questions, which the youngest child always asks at the Seder, and which begin with: Why is this night different from all other nights? I asked myself, “Why is this matzo different from all other matzos?” I’m a chef, so of course I was tempted to credit the baker. The bakery, I learned, specialized in an elite class of matzo called “shmurah,” meaning “guarded” or “watched,” which Orthodox communities prescribe for the first night of Passover. For shmurah matzo, the guarding against chametz begins not in the bakery but in the field, with rabbis overseeing the grain from harvest through to milling. Maybe, I thought, the matzo owed its flavor to this rabbinical scrutiny. So several months later, I drove to upstate New York to visit one of the bakery’s suppliers, Klaas Martens, a grain farmer whom, coincidentally, I’ve known for many years. It was early July, and he was waiting to harvest kosher spelt for shmurah matzo. A heat wave gripped the region. The rabbi who had been overseeing Klaas’s harvest for several years had delayed his arrival until the afternoon. Klaas’s John Deere cap was already drenched in sweat. Harvest days are always stressful, but the shmurah harvest is charged with a particular sense of urgency. Wait too long to cut the wheat, even a few hours, and a rogue rainfall could cause chametz; cut too early and the wheat may not be dry enough for storage. The previous day, Klaas harvested several acres of wheat in 110-degree heat. Examining the wheat later that night, the rabbi found signs of sprouting (indicating chametz) in a handful of the kernels. He declared the harvest not kosher for Passover. It was a loss of several thousand dollars. Though frustrated, Klaas told me he agreed with the rabbi’s verdict. After many years of oversight, he had come to respect the rabbi’s expertise. “He could literally walk the field, tasting the kernels, to get the moisture he wanted, which I’ve come to learn is 13 to 14 percent. He knew how long to wait to get it. And by God, he always nailed it.” As we waited (and waited) for the rabbi to arrive, I considered a question I had never thought to ask before: Is there an ideal moment to harvest wheat? And can you taste the difference? First, some facts: Wheat can be mature and still too wet to harvest. At the point that the grain reaches physiological maturity, it can contain 40 percent moisture, making it exquisitely susceptible to chametz and spoilage in storage. Left to ripen on the stalk, the wheat will continue to dry down over the next several days. The sweet spot is below 18 percent moisture — ideally closer to 13 to 14 percent, just what the rabbi was looking for. Below 10 percent, the flour won’t perform as well for . But waiting works only if the weather cooperates. As one farmer told me, “Every day you’re in the field longer is more risk you’re taking.” As a rule, wheat farmers don’t take risks. Which is why in regions like the Northeast, where humidity and rain are a constant threat, wheat is often harvested at between 20 and 30 percent moisture and dried down in large mechanical driers. The driers can be brutal and inexact; some of the wheat may overheat, destroying the delicate wheat germ (a shame, since the natural oils in the germ are what imbue the grain with flavor); some may be damaged by condensation that forms inside the bin. The end result is usually serviceable, but not ideal for baking. Some farmers dry their wheat by spraying their fields with glyphosate — though few will admit it. Glyphosate, the herbicide found in Roundup, was developed to kill weeds, not crops, but it is still employed as a desiccant to reduce dry-down time and ensure uniform ripening. Klaas had no choice but to leave the wheat on the stalk. As an organic farmer, he couldn’t use a chemical to desiccate the wheat, and it’s highly unlikely the rabbi would have allowed it anyway. And mechanical drying, which he normally employs, was not permitted by the rabbi because of the threat of condensation and the use of an “open flame” — high heat that could potentially damage or denature the grain. (Some rabbis are less strict about these rules.) “What was remarkable to me is that being constrained by the rules of the rabbi, it forced us to figure out how to better preserve the quality of the grain,” Klaas said. The more I learned about shmurah laws, the more I wondered about their purpose. They were meant, of course, to protect Passover traditions. But by tying farmers’ hands, did they serve another purpose — to protect the wheat itself? I reached out to Glenn Roberts, founder of the artisanal grain company Anson Mills, to see what he thought of the restrictions. As he outlined his own field protocols, he could have been mistaken for a rabbi. Glenn pays a premium for what he calls “field-ripened” wheat, with a residual moisture content of 13 to 15 percent — a narrow window for capturing the “spiciness and deep nuttiness” and “green fresh floral notes” of the grain. “We don’t allow mechanical driers,” he told me. “Never. It changes the structure of the germ, it kills flavor. This is delicate stuff. Getting it right takes time.” JUST before 2, the rabbi finally arrived. Bearded and robed in the stifling heat, he ignored pleasantries and raced to taste the spelt. After a quick nod of approval, he sent the combine tractor into action. He stood perched on the ledge just outside the air- conditioned cab, scanning the field ahead. Halfway around the perimeter, the rabbi raised his hand, signaling the driver to stop. He had spotted wild garlic, which traditionally is not allowed in matzo. The driver avoided the offending patch, ditching the spelt around it. Klaas told me that for many years, the rabbi saw so much wild garlic that he was forced to walk alongside the combine, slowing it down considerably. At first Klaas wondered why wild garlic wouldn’t be kosher. Then he turned to what is, for him, a more practical question: Why was the wild garlic there at all? He came to believe that the wild garlic was a sign that his soil was “thirsty for sulfur.” In the years since then, Klaas has grown rotations of buckwheat and mustard, which, he found, helped to replenish sulfur in the soil and reduce the garlic in his fields. “The rabbi knew more about farming than me,” Klaas said. “I can tell you that the spelt ever since has been a heck of a lot tastier.” Glenn agreed. When I mentioned the offending weed, he told me that wild garlic would have made my matzo spicy and bitter. PERHAPS more far-reaching, the laws agitate for consciousness. Even my daylong encounter with harvesting spelt showed me the monotony of the chore, as much as the challenge. Growing grain is rote work. Do it long enough and the routine will become desensitizing. “The requirement for close inspections of the spelt means I’m observing things that would otherwise go unnoticed,” Klaas told me. “I apply it to other crops, not with the same vigilance but with … I don’t want to sound corny, but it’s mindfulness. Mindfulness is a part of all my work now, and it benefits just about everything I grow.” Klaas told me many years ago: “The history of wheat in a question is ‘How do we grow this and make it easier?’ ” We’ve been spectacularly successful. After all, wheat built Western civilization. We eat a lot of the stuff — in the , more than 130 pounds per person each year. Worldwide, it covers more acreage than any other crop. The rabbi, however, was not interested in making wheat easier. And his stone-faced inspection reminded me of what that pursuit has left us with: chemicals, denuded wheat, depleted soils and a host of other problems with our food system.

A HUMBLE REALITY CHECK Talmud Berachot 40a What kind of tree was the Tree of Knowledge of Good & Bad, which Adam and Eve ate from? Rabbi Yehuda says, it was wheat. Zohar 2:40b Chametz resembles the Yetzer Hara (Evil inclination), and Matza resembles the Yetzer Tov (Holy inclination) Talmud Berachot 17a “Master of the Universe, you know full well that we always want to live in accordance with your will. But what prevents us? The yeast in the dough.”

FAITH-FOOD Zohar 2:183b When the Jewish people left Egypt, they had no concept of emunah, so Hashem said, let them taste the remedy (i.e. matzah), and while they are eating it, they should not eat anything else (i.e. chametz). Once they ate matzah, they were healed and discovered Emunah. Then G-d said, now they can eat chametz, and it won’t harm them

HOLY DIGESTION כָּל־מַחְמֶ ֶ֖צֶת לֹֹ֣ אתֹאכ ֵ֑לּו בְ כֹל֙ מֹושְ בֹֹ֣ת םיכֶֶ֔ תֹ אכְלֶ֖ ּו Shmot 12:18 מַצּֽ ֹות: You shall not eat any leavening; throughout all your dwellings you shall eat unleavened cakes.

CURIOSITY DOES NOT KILL HUMANS (ONLY CATS( לֹא־תֹאכַַ֤ל עָּ לָּיו֙חָּמ ץֶ֔ שִׁ בְעַ ַ֥ת Devarim 16:3 יָּמִִׁ֛ים תֹאכַל־עָּלָּ ַ֥יומַצֶֹ֖ות לֶ ֹ֣חֶ םעֵֹ֑ נִׁי You shall not eat anything leavened with it; for seven days thereafter you shall eat unleavened , bread of distress אמר שמואל )דברים טז, ג( לחם Talmud Pesachim עוני )כתיב( לחם שעונין עליו Shmuel said that the phrase: “The bread of affliction [leḥem oni]” (Deuteronomy 16:3) means דברים תניא נמי הכי לחם עוני bread over which one answers [onim] matters, i.e., one recites the Haggadah over matza. That לחם שעונין עליו דברים הרבה .was also taught in a baraita: Leḥem oni is bread over which one answers many matters דבר אחר לחם עוני עני כתיב מה עני שדרכו בפרוסה אף כאן Alternatively, in the verse, “leḥem oni” is actually written without a vav, which means a poor בפרוסה ,person. Just as it is the manner of a poor person to eat a piece of bread, for lack of a whole loaf so too, here he should use a piece of matza.

Six Surprising Benefits of Curiosity 1. Curiosity helps us survive. The urge to explore and seek novelty helps us remain vigilant and gain knowledge about our constantly changing environment. 2. Curious people are happier. Research has shown curiosity to be associated with higher levels of positive emotions, lower levels of anxiety, more satisfaction with life, and greater psychological well-being. 3. Curiosity boosts achievement. Studies reveal that curiosity leads to more enjoyment and participation in school and higher academic achievement, as well as greater learning, engagement, and performance at work. 4. Curiosity can expand our empathy. When we are curious about others and talk to people outside our usual social circle, we become better able to understand those with lives, experiences, and worldviews different than our own. 5. Curiosity helps strengthen relationships. One study asked strangers to pose and answer personal questions, a process scientists call “reciprocal self-disclosure.” They found that people were rated as warmer and more attractive if they showed real curiosity in the exchange. 6. Curiosity improves healthcare. Research suggests that when doctors are genuinely curious about their patients’ perspectives, both doctors and patients report less anger and frustration and make better decisions, ultimately increasing the effectiveness of treatment.

A BROKEN HEART IS A BEAUTIFUL HEART Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787–1859), the Kotzker Rebbe: “There is nothing more whole than a broken heart.”

POEM BY LYNN UNGAR Sing. Pray. Touch only those Do not reach out your hands. to whom you commit your life. Reach out your heart. What if you thought of it Center down. Reach out your words. as the consider the Sabbath — the most sacred of times? And when your body has become still, Reach out all the tendrils reach out with your heart. of compassion that move, invisibly, Cease from travel. Know that we are connected where we cannot touch. Cease from buying and selling. in ways that are terrifying and beautiful. Give up, just for now, (You could hardly deny it now.) Promise this world your love — on trying to make the world for better or for worse, different than it is. Know that our lives in sickness and in health, are in one another’s hands. so long as we all shall live. (Surely, that has come clear.) Faith, healthy