Tam Tam Troubles: manischewitz leaves us in a lurchWith Passover less than two months away, matzo aficionados are getting psyched to indulge in some serious unleavened products! Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but many of us have come to depend on and even enjoy Passover products like the Manischewitz Tam Tam cracker. Sadly, fans of the beloved Tam Tam may well be denied this Exodus season.

In the biggest Passover food setback since the Jews fleeing Egypt before their bread could rise, chosen food company Manischewitz announced today that due to an unforeseen construction delay it will not be producing several of its regular matzo products this year, including Tam Tams, Shmura Matzo, and Yolk Free Egg Matzo. Quality since 1888, my tuchus.

After last Passover, Manischewitz began construction on a new, $15 million facility that it expected would be completed in time for normal operation this season. Things did not go according to plan. Upon being asked whether the company expects a decrease in profits because of this situation, Manischewitz V.P. David Rossi replied, “Sometimes you take one step back to take two steps forward.” Sounds like he’s been listening to too much Paula Abdul.

Somewhere out there, a Jewish bubbe is saying, “When I was your age, we didn’t have any of this fancy shmancy matzo. We ate regular, no-nonsense matzo that tasted like cardboard, and it was enough, damn it.” Dayenu!

"To life, to life, l'chaim. L'chaim, l'chaim, to life. It gives you something to think about, Something to drink about -- Drink, l'chaim, to life." So wrote Sheldon Harnick in his lyrics for the Fiddler on the Roof song, "To Life." Over the years, a handful of unique beverages have become as intrinsic to the Jewish culinary world as are dishes like kugel and matzo ball soup. When we "drink l'chaim," we often do so by raising a glass of legendarily sweet wine, but a few other libations have also found their cultural home within the Jewish people's soda and shot glasses. Here they are, in all of their strange, delicious, intoxicating, refreshing glory. Have one you want to add? Feel free to do so in comments.

	From those thimble-sized tastes at temple onegs to the fourth sickening glass at a Passover seder, the overwhelmingly sweet Manischewitz is arguably the ultimate Jewish drink. These days there are plenty of fine, kosher wines to keep us busy, but the "Witz" will always hold a special place in Jewish hearts and homes.
	Walter Winchell called it "Jewish champagne." An acquired taste, this celery-flavored Dr. Brown's soda was developed in 1869, and is made with is made with celery seeds, sugar and seltzer. It's hard to find outside of NYC and Jewish delicatessens, where it's usually on offer alongside other Dr. Brown's flavors, like Black Cherry, Root Beer, and Cream Soda.
	Seltzer is the old school, Jewish version of "sparkling water," and like Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray, it has also been referred to as "Jewish champagne." Of course, this is not a term that's used much anymore, and frankly, neither is the traditional seltzer bottle. In New York, in the early twentieth century, seltzer was not just commonplace but essential to Jews who believed it was healthier than city water, and aided digestion--hence its other nickname: Belchwasser.
	A freshly made Egg Cream Soda is the stuff of legends. Deeply rooted in New York City, the classic brew is mixed to order and made with Fox's U-Bet Chocolate Syrup. The other two ingredients? Seltzer water (go figure) and milk.
	Some may tell you that this plum brandy takes its root from the Slavic word for plum, but I'm pretty sure that Slivovitz translates to "Party Time." A traditional libation of Eastern European Jews, this stuff packs a punch, hitting you with a standard proof of 100 to 140. In other words, 50 to 70%. Drink it in shots, and don't say I didn't warn you.

From their super sweet wine to their kugel-ready egg noodles, Manischewitz is likely the most recognizable kosher food brand out there, not to mention the hipster Jew's drink of choice. As a self-respecting foodie, I would never choose their wine over a dry Cabernet from Baron Herzog (who recently went "sustainable" by the way). But I respect Manischewitz's ability to - like my aunt Minnie at the Kiddush table - elbow their way to the front of the pack.

Now Mani is giving customers a chance to share in on the glory through the Manischewitz cookoff. The company is accepting recipes that can be made in under an hour and will select 27 semi-finalists (by region). The grand prize is a brand new kitchen (maybe not so appetizing to the subletter in Brooklyn, but quite generally it's a pretty sweet payoff.)

Past finalists include: Andrea Bloom's Pea and Fennel Soup, Laura Diamond's Savory Stuffed Mushrooms, Sharon Ricci's Matzoh Brunch Bake, Michaela Rosenthal's Whitefish and Potato Knish, Rayzel Yaish's, Middle Eastern Falafel Stuffed Peppers, and Candace McMenamin's (Mc Menamin's?) Sweet Potato Encrusted Chicken. Think you can stand up to these ladies? Enter here. Just don't submit your famous bacon roulade, however - in case you were wondering, these recipes have to be kosher.
 

Looks like Manischewitz is closing up shop in Jersey City just in time for their busiest season. The good news is the company is relocating to their Newark base. The bad news is after reading this, I'm apathetic to the brand either way.

Pevzner said that in the last 20 years, as production has gotten increasingly automated, the factory payroll has declined to about 55 employees from more than 100.

Pevzner said he expects only about half of the current workers will move to Newark.

That will be difficult for some workers, including Russian Jews from Brooklyn who say the factory has provided more than just a living. One floor includes a small synagogue that hosts the occasional wedding, Pevzner said.

Marton Fromer, a Hungarian Jew who grew up in Russia, has spent 11 years at the company operating mixing kettles under the strict eye of mashgichim, the observant Jews designated to supervise kosher operations.

"To make matzo, it's a privilege for a Jew," he says.

"It's a ritual, it's holy."

But Fromer said that the move is trivial, as long as the matzo remains.

"The building is just bricks and the roof, like any building," he said.

"The matzo, it's the product that's important."

I guess the important thing is that the article ends on a positive note, even if the real life story doesn't quite pan out that way.