Here’s the beautiful thing about Passover: It’s not about what you lose—it’s about what you gain. You gain a week of freedom from routine, a table full of stories, and the world’s best argument with your aunt about whether gefilte fish counts as food.
Pasta will be there when the holiday ends. It’s not going anywhere. But for seven days, you get to embrace the crunchy, crumbly, chaotic joy of matzah. And guess what? You’ll survive. You’ll laugh. You’ll probably eat too many macaroons.
So next time you’re staring at a box of spaghetti in the supermarket, give it a wink and whisper, “Not this week, old friend.” Then walk over to the almond flour section and make yourself a killer kosher-for-Passover cake. You’re a hero. You’re a mensch. And you’re totally going to rock this holiday. Chag sameach!
