Matzo Meets Wisconsin

On the first day of Passover I had a taste test of matzo/matzah toppings. Butter with jelly, honey butter or just plain butter. I concluded that matzah/matzo with just plain butter was the best, followed by honey butter. After my taste test and two meals of matzah/matzo brei I was back at the store to buy more matzah/matzo. Where in the world do they only sell single boxes of matzah/matzo that only have 10 sheets of matzah? Wisconsin, that’s where. Where the local synagogue’s congregation, according to its website is comprised of 45 families that span a 40-mile radius.

Back to the store I went. I couldn’t find any matzo. Was it because it was the third day of Passover? NO, it was because I was in Wisconsin. At the register when the kind, most likely Norwegian, cashier asked if I had found everything alright, I said, “No.” After saying what I was unable to find she called over a manager to assist and I don’t believe it was because her nametag said, “I’m new, please be patient with me.” The manager looked puzzled and to my surprise the cashier in the next aisle asked, “Is it like matzo ball soup, because I helped someone find that the other day?” At that moment I was hopeful. The manager went away and came back with a proud smile on his face and a box too small to hold matzo in it and said, “Is this what you were looking for?” It’s difficult to butter matzo ball soup mix so I was forced to say, “No, what I’m looking for looks like a large cracker.” He huddled with another manager, seemed to ignore me, and I figured they had given up.

I paid for my other groceries and left. In the car my kids learned the meaning of minority. Thanks to my daughter who was slowly (and I mean, slowly, like a sloth) fastening her seatbelt I saw the matzo ball soup mix carrying manager roaming the parking lot with a box large enough to carry “large crackers”. He was looking for me, the sole Jewish person in the parking lot! I watched him walk up to a Lutheran mom or maybe she was Catholic (combined they comprise 98% of my town’s population) who shook her head in confusion. I pulled up next to him, rolled down my window and thanked him, and right there in the parking lot I bought two boxes of matzo. At least it wasn’t in a dark alley of shame.

Why does matzo always fall butter side down?

Signed,

The Mom who went shopping for Easter basket fillings on a “full” stomach of matzo.

** Video to come at a later time. **