Purim, the springtime Jewish holiday commemorating the Jews' escape from being destroyed by the evil Haman, is a favorite festival for Jewish kids everywhere. The day frequently involves costume parades, carnivals and feasts, with much eating, drinking and merry-making all around.

When I was seven I came down with chicken pox the morning of our temple's Purim carnival. I was devastated. No dressing up as good Queen Esther in a paper Burger King crown and frosted pink Bonnie Bell Lip Smacker. No waving my noisemaker to blot out the name of the evil Haman. Worst of all, no hamantaschen. I cried for hours.

Hamantaschen, or Haman's pockets, are triangular cookies traditionally filled with fruit, prune or poppy seed centers. Less traditional, though still delicious, are chocolate chip and peanut butter hamantaschen. When made right, they're delicious - crumbly rich dough with a sticky, not-too-sweet center. But when made badly, as commercial hamantaschen often are, they can be dense and depressingly bland. Try this great recipe from Jewish cooking maven Joan Nathan.

There's nothing that says "Jewish Holiday!" to me more than a big bowl of chopped liver. While not particularly traditional to Hanukkah, it frequently makes an appearance at my family celebrations. My mom still talks about the version that her Auntie Tunkel used to make, in an old wooden chopping bowl with a red-handled chopper. Sadly, Auntie died in 1957 and no one wrote the recipe down while she was alive so I'll never know how hers tasted.

However, I have filled my own need for chopped liver with a recipe I found in the Washington Post in March of 2004. They were doing a series of recipes for Passover and printed Aron Groer's Chopped Liver. I don't remember who Aron Groer was, but he makes some good chopped liver. It isn't exactly like Auntie's, she used schmaltz (chicken fat) and raw onions, but it makes for some fine eating.

I am nearing the end of my masters thesis these days. It is a collection of essays about women in my family and their relationships to food. One of the essays is about my Auntie Tunkel, the woman who raised my grandmother and her siblings. She immigrated from the Ukraine when she was 14 years in order to marry a man who she had never met. It wasn't a happy marriage, but according to family lore, she still managed to enjoy life and make everyone around her feel loved and appreciated.

Auntie Tunkel was an excellent cook and was particularly known for her stuffed cabbage. For the last few weeks, I've been bugging my mom for her stuffed cabbage recipe because I needed to include it in the thesis draft, and on Tuesday she finally came through. As she talked me through it on the phone, I could tell that she was recalling the taste memory of the dish as well. Writing down the recipe, I started to get hungry and by the time we got off the phone I was ready to bolt out of the house and head to the store for the necessary ingredients.

It's a time-intensive dish, but perfect for the weekend when you want to put a little more energy into cooking. When this dish is done, you'll be rewarded with a fragrant kitchen, an excellent meal and tasty leftovers (unless you are cooking for a crowd). The recipe is after the jump.

My real Jewish friends are off tonight having a "Break Passover" party, a little "celebration" where they're going to indulge in all those foods they couldn't eat for eight days - yeasted breads, cakes, pretty much anything that contains wheat, all of which were replaced during the Passover holiday with matzo.

Since the holiday is over, there might be a lot of leftover matzo. Sure, eating it at three meals for eight days, one might get sick of the hard, cracker-like flatbread, but no one ever gets sick of matzo ball soup. How could they? Matzo ball soup doesn't cause sickness, it cures it. It's known as Jewish penicillin, great for anytime of the year.

By now, most Jewish people are deep into their Seder dinners, as the first night of Passover began at Sundown today. However, I'm not Jewish so I don't get to enjoy the ceremonial storytelling and delicious Seder feast tonight.

Much of the story of Passover is about suffering, so I feel sort of sacrilegous in thinking that haroset is delicious. Haroset has its place on the Seder plate, representing the mortar that the Israelis used for building when they were kept as slaves in Egypt. Haroset can be made in many different ways, but the most basic recipe is made from apples, nuts, and sweet wine.

With Passover starting in a couple of days, many households are preparing for the eight day "Festival on Matzos" that is completely free of leavened breads, crackers, cakes, cookies.

However, many rabbis of some of the most orthodox associations and Jewish food historians say that the holiday has become overly complicated. Jews avoid grain altogether for fear that even without yeast, leavening may have occurred. Jewish people today have been overly cautious and have misunderstood the term for "leavening," simply excluding any ingredient, not just natural yeast, that causes dough to rise.

But the leavening that is mentioned in the Torah as "chametz," according to one author, is natural yeast, which causes leavening by fermentation, and does not refer to baking powder or baking soda.

Now, I'm not a strictly observant Jew. I didn't have to suffer with leaden cakes made of nut flours and matzoh meal for eight days every year, but I still have to wonder that "allowing" this and that and lifting restrictions takes away from one of the points of the holiday, which is to appreciate the suffering of ancestors.

On the other hand, perhaps there has just been too much focus on the rules themselves rather than on what they mean. 

Given that Saveur's website is "stylishly useless," it's almost unfair to post all the wonderful things that are in the April 2006 issue of the magazine I just received. Consider it simply an express-view for you as you ponder whether to pick it up in the check-out line. (And I'll do my best over the next few weeks to post any adventures I have with the recipes).

• A look at the changing fare on college campuses, which are ditching the dining halls and favoring the carts and trucks that serve fast, cheap, and authentic ethnic food like falafel and veggie pakoras at UVM and kimchee and bulgogi accessible to a number of schools in Philadelphia. Of course, I know all about the In-N-Out truck on the UCLA and USC campuses once a year.
• Cookbooks under review are Jewish: The Jewish Kitchen by Clarissa Hyman and Matzoh Ball Gumbo: Culinary Tales of the Jewish South by Marcie Cohen Ferris.
• In the cellar, the wine of the month is madiran, a "dark, spicy, tannic expression of the French southwest."
• In a different kind of cellar, Campbeltown is Scotland's "other" whisky region.
• San Francisco chef James Schenk (of Nuevo Latino restaurant Destino) makes alfajores, South American butter cookies filled with dulce de leche.
• Stop all the debate. The original recipe for Buffalo wings from the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, New York!
• The feature of the magazine is Tuscan trattorias, with recipes for: arista di maiale (roasted herb-stuffed porkloin), fagioli sgranati (white beans with sage), piselli freschi (fresh peas with Prosciutto), pappa al pomodoro (bread and tomato soup), insalata di trippa (cold tripe salad - I doubt I'll be trying this one, but who knows?), pappardelle all'anatra (broad noodles with duck sauce), and fritto misto di coniglio e verdure (fried rabbit and vegetables - imagine serving that to your kids on Easter!).
• We love hummus, and who knew Saveur could dedicate six whole pages to the simple chickpea puree?
• Le Veau d'Or in Manhattan is "a real French restaurant: the music is terrible but the food is great."
• And finally, a look at the endagered Danish tradition of the smorrebrod (different from Swedish smorgasbord).