Tzimmes — The Sweet Dish That Has Always Been on Our Seder Table

Passover 2018. The seder was thirty people strong, the table set with Sylvia's blue and white dishes, the Haggadah open at every place, the brisket braised since morning, the matzo ball soup waiting on the stove with the patience of a soup that knows its moment is coming. I love the Passover seder the way I love a good sentence: for its structure, its rhythm, the way each element leads to the next with an inevitability that feels both planned and spontaneous.

David led again. He has fully inherited this role — the son who leads the family through the story of freedom, the story that has been told at this table and tables like it for three thousand years. Ethan, nearly four, read the Four Questions with David's help — his voice small but certain, the Hebrew words shaped by a mouth that is learning the sounds of its ancestors' language. Sophie, eighteen months, sat in her high chair and ate charoset with her fingers and looked at the world with those dark, evaluating eyes that remind me of Sylvia.

Marvin was wonderful. He was fully himself — funny, sharp, present. He helped me serve. He carved the brisket. He told the annual Passover joke, which is different from the Hanukkah joke and equally groan-worthy. He sat at the head of the table with the quiet authority of a man who has been presiding over this meal for thirty-five years and knows that his job is not to lead but to anchor — to be the steady presence that allows everyone else to be loud and emotional and Jewish.

I watched him all evening. I could not help it. The vibration from last week has not stopped, though Marvin has given me no reason to sustain it — no repeated questions, no forgotten names, no moments of confusion. He was Marvin, fully Marvin, and I should have been reassured, and I was mostly reassured, but the mostly is the problem. Mostly means not entirely. Not entirely means the vibration continues. The vibration continues, and I stand above it, and I watch, and I hope I am wrong.

After the seder, Marvin and I cleaned up together. He washed, I dried. The choreography of thirty-five years. His hands in the water, mine on the towel. No words needed. The dishes got clean. The kitchen got quiet. The seder was over. Another year. Another telling. The story of freedom, told by a man I love at a table I set with my mother's dishes. The story continues. The man is here. The dishes are clean. Everything is fine. Probably fine. Almost certainly fine.

Every year I make the brisket and the matzo ball soup, and every year the tzimmes is the dish that surprises me by meaning the most. This year, watching Marvin carve the brisket with his steady hands and anchor the table the way only he can, I needed the sweetness of it — the honey, the slow heat, the carrots and sweet potatoes going soft and yielding — to feel like something dependable in a week when I could not stop watching and wondering. Tzimmes does not rush. It asks you to wait, and then it rewards you. This year I needed that more than I knew.

Tzimmes

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 35 minutes | Servings: 10

Ingredients

• 2 lbs carrots, peeled and sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
• 2 lbs sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
• 1 cup pitted prunes (dried plums)
• 1/2 cup dried apricots, halved
• 1/3 cup honey
• 1/2 cup fresh orange juice
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil or melted coconut oil
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• Zest of 1 orange

Instructions

1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a large (9x13-inch) baking dish or deep oven-safe casserole with a bit of the oil.
2. Combine the vegetables and fruit. Add the sliced carrots, sweet potato chunks, prunes, and apricots to the prepared baking dish and toss to distribute evenly.
3. Make the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together the honey, orange juice, oil, cinnamon, ginger, salt, pepper, and orange zest until well combined.
4. Dress the tzimmes. Pour the honey-orange glaze evenly over the vegetables and fruit. Stir gently to coat everything thoroughly.
5. Cover and bake. Cover the dish tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 45 minutes, until the vegetables have begun to soften.
6. Uncover and finish. Remove the foil and stir gently. Return to the oven uncovered and bake for an additional 25—30 minutes, until the vegetables are tender and the glaze has thickened and caramelized lightly at the edges.
7. Rest and serve. Let the tzimmes rest for 5 minutes before serving. It can be made a day ahead and reheated, covered, at 325°F for 20 minutes — it only gets better.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 145mg