Who Sugarcoated My Barton’s Haggadah?
Passover this year came with a nasty jolt. It wasn’t the company, mostly cousins I rarely see and always enjoy. It certainly wasn’t the food, which was traditional and delicious enough to satisfy any expectations: gefilte fish, knaidlech, horseradish, charoseth, and the most tender brisket I’ve had since my mother died. It wasn’t the conversation,…