To understand the original meaning of the Haroset, and its profound educational value, we will have to forget for a few moments the recipe of our own Haroset, and focus our attention on the three basic ingredients indicated by the Sages.

When Maimonides mentions the Haroset he says first that we prepare a paste with figs, dates, raisins or similar fruits. These soft fruits (or softened with cooking) are mushed, and then mixed with vinegar. And to this paste we then add the tebalín, or herbs.

Now that we know what the three ingredients of the Haroset are – fruits, vinegar and herbs – we will try to understand the reason of each one of them.

FRUITS, FOR THE TEXTURE OF MUD

Maimonides says (see text below) that the Haroset should remind us of the mud with which (or “in” which, as we shall see later) our fathers worked day and night, in the horrific Egyptian slavery. When you mush these fruits, part of that paste will surely remain in your hands. In a a similar way, the hands, feet and probably the entire body of the Hebrew slaves was never clean of mud. It always remain in their body. The fruits we use for the Haroset, dates, figs, etc. are soft and easy to mush, because the mission is to recreate a meal representing the mud (חרוסת זכר לטיט).

VINEGAR, FOR THE FLAVOR OF SLAVERY 

The Sages also indicated that sourness should be perceived in the flavor of Haroset. That’s why in the original recipe vinegar, and not wine, is added to the Haroset. The sour taste of vinegar, obviously, is reminiscent of the bitter taste of our slavery, something that is explicitly mentioned in the Tora (וימררו את חייהם “And the Egyptians made the life of the Jewish slaves bitter…”. It is interesting to notice that originally, in the Talmud, the sweet taste of Haroset is not emphasized, although it is recognized as the expected flavor of a paste made from the mentioned fruits, which are sweet. Actually the rabbis emphasized that we should not be used too much Haroset to dip the Maror, the bitter herb, in it so that the sweetness of the Haroset does not neutralize its flavor.

HERBS (TEBALIN) FOR THE VISUAL MEMORIES OF SLAVERY

The least known ingredient of the Haroset is the one that Maimonides calls tebalin, that is, herbs. Herbs are generally used as aromatic additives or flavorings, sometimes they are mentioned as tablinín, spices. But in the specific case of the Haroset, Maimonides indicates that the herbs should not be ground or cut into small pieces, as is usually done when one uses spices for cooking. The best Kept secret of the Haroset is to introduce in it pieces of herbs that would resemble the “straw” (in Hebrew teben) that was used with the mud to produce there mud-bricks. The purpose of the tebalín, then, is not to add flavor or aroma to the Haroset, but to recreate a visual effect: “mud with straw” (טיט ותבן). The presence of the herbs / tebalin, is then essential to recreate the symbolic meaning of the Haroset. On this point the Talmud does not register any debate. To the extent that the Gemara in Pesahim relates (see text above) that when people came to the markets to shop for Pesah, the traders of Jerusalem announced: “Come and take (for free) the herbs to fulfill the mitzva [rabbinic commandment of Haroset]”

THE FUNCTION OF THE TEBALIN

Since the effect of these herbs must be visual, there is no specific indication as to what type of herbs or vegetables to be used. Some rabbis mentioned cinnamon, ginger, or hyssop twigs, but making it clear that they should not be powdered but cut into pieces. The Maharil (136-1427) was perhaps the most explicit, saying that herbs or spices should be cut into long, thin pieces (מחותכין ארוכין) to represent the “straw”.

Nowadays, for some reason (that I still ignore) almost all recipes of Haroset include ground spices an/or aromatic herbs and the visual effect that the Haroset must awake in our memory has fallen into oblivion. I will do my best to …

Imagine a formal dinner in an upscale restaurant. The table will include the customary condiments:  salt, pepper, and perhaps some olive oil. Now imagine Maimonides’ table for the Pesah Seder. On his table, there is ONE element that literally replaces “all” other condiments and dressings that night: Haroset, the exclusive dip meant to accompany all the symbolic foods that we consume on the Seder night.

Let us examine how and when the Haroset is consumed at the Pesah Seder according to Maimonides:

KARPAS WITH HAROSET

After inaugurating the Pesah Seder with the Kiddush, the first thing we eat is a piece of Karpas, or celery. In ancient times, it was common for a festive dinner to begin with an aperitif (celery or other fresh vegetables) before serving the main dish in order to stimulate the appetite. Now, the general custom in the Seder is to dip the karpas in vinegar (or water with salt) to remind us of the bitter tears that we shed in our Egyptian captivity. According to Maimonides, however, the karpas should be dipped in the Haroset! Anyways, remember that for Maimonides’ Haroset recipe included a significant amount of vinegar, which gave his Haroset an acidic flavor.

MATSA WITH HAROSET

The second time Haroset is used, as per Maimonides, is when we recite the blessing for the Matsa (Motsi-Matsa). We dip the Matsa in the Haroset instead of using salt as we usually do when we say haMotsi for bread. This gesture reminds me of a beautiful custom that is practiced in some families during Rosh haShana: to express our wishes for a good and sweet year, when saying haMotsi, the bread is dipped in honey or sugar instead of salt. However, while dipping the bread in honey or sugar in Rosh haShana is a popular tradition or folklore, the dipping of the Matsa in the Haroset, for Maimonides, is a formal, practically an “halakhic”, requirement.

MAROR WITH (A LITTLE BIT OF) HAROSET

Nowadays, the Haroset is used firstly to dip the Maror, the bitter herb. In this case, the rabbis indicate that the amount of the Haroset should be minimal, so that the flavor of the Haroset does not deprive us of experiencing the bitter taste of the Maror. Some rabbis wrote that after dipping the Maror in the Haroset, the Haroset must be removed from the Maror so that only a superficial layer remains on it. Maimonides clarifies that in this case, when spreading the Maror with Haroset, we are fulfilling a rabbinic precept, although we do not say a specific blessing for it. According to some opinions, this is because of the rulings of iqar and tafel, which determine that we say blessings on the main food -in this case, the Maror (‘al akhilat maror) as opposed to its accessories– in this case, the Haroset.

MATSA AND MAROR WITH HAROSET

Finally the Haroset is also added to the Korekh, the sandwich of Matsa and Maror that reminds us of the qorban pesah, the lamb that was consumed during the Seder of Pesah with Matsa and Maror in the times of the Bet haMiqdash. As in the case of the Maror, the use of the Haroset in the Korekh is also practiced by all the Jewish communities. As we already explained, the Haroset is not mentioned in the Tora, and is rather a ritual food related to the Pesah Seder which was established by the rabbis. The Haroset carries a tremendous meaning in its taste, its texture and its looks, and it conveys a very tangible representation of the slavery we want to remember in the Seder.

TEXTS WHERE MAIMONIDES MENTIONS HAROSET

מ’ת, הלכות חמץ ומצה, פ’ח 

ה’ב :מתחיל ומברך בורא פרי האדמה, ולוקח ירק ומטבל אותו בחרוסת

ה’ח: בזמן הזה, שאין שם קרבן, אחר שמברך המוציא לחם חוזר ומברך על אכילת מצה, ומטבל מצה בחרוסת ואוכל, וחוזר ומברך על אכילת מרור ומטבל מרור בחרוסת ואוכל, ולא ישהה אותו בחרוסת שמא יבטל טעמו, וזו מצוה מדברי סופרים, וחוזר וכורך מצה ומרור ומטבל בחרוסת ואוכלן בלא ברכה זכר למקדש.

We’ve already established that chametz comes specifically from one of five grains: wheat, barley, spelt, rye, and oats. That means rice, by definition, is not chametz — and this isn’t a modern ruling or a recent leniency. It goes all the way back to the Gemara.

In fact, the Talmud records an explicit debate on this very question. Rabbi Yochanan ben Nuri — a sage from the Land of Israel who lived in the first century of the Common Era — argued that rice should not be eaten on Pesach. But the other sages pushed back, and the Gemara’s conclusion is unambiguous: rice is not chametz, and it may be eaten on Pesach. The Talmud even tells us that Rabbah, one of the most celebrated sages of Babylonia, used to eat rice at the Pesach Seder itself. 📖 (Pesachim 114b)

So the halacha is clear. Case closed — or so you’d think.

SO WHY DON’T ASHKENAZIM EAT RICE ON PESACH? 🤔

Here’s where things get interesting. Ashkenazi Jews refrain from eating rice on Pesach — but not because they consider it chametz. That’s an important distinction. The Ashkenazi tradition is to avoid an entire category of foods known as kitniyot: legumes, certain grains, and related products. Rice falls into this category, and so Ashkenazim don’t eat it on Pesach. This is a very old custom, and it remains widely observed to this day.

But where did this tradition come from? The answer is rooted in very practical, very real historical concerns.

Think about what the world looked like 100 or 200 years ago — or even more recently than that. Food wasn’t sold the way it is today, neatly packaged in sealed bags on supermarket shelves with clear labels and ingredient lists. 🛒 Food was sold in open-air markets, by weight, in bulk. Merchants would scoop out whatever you needed using shared scoops, pallets, and scales — the same tools they used for every other grain they sold. Rice and wheat sat in neighboring stalls. Sometimes in neighboring sacks.

And it gets even closer than that. The fields where rice was grown were often right next to — or even mixed in with — fields of wheat and barley. When harvest time came, it wasn’t unusual at all for a few grains of wheat to end up mixed in with the rice. 🌾

Now here’s why that matters so much: the prohibition of chametz during Pesach is extraordinarily strict. So strict, in fact — as we will discuss in more detail later — that a single grain of wheat is enough to render an entire plate of rice forbidden. Just one grain. Given that reality, and given how easily and how commonly wheat and rice got mixed together, it’s completely understandable why communities developed the practice of avoiding rice on Pesach altogether. Why take the risk?

And there’s another reason that reinforced this concern: rice and wheat look remarkably similar. The ears and grains of brown rice bear a strong resemblance to wheat. Rice flour and wheat flour are nearly indistinguishable by appearance alone. 👀 The average person — and even the careful person — could easily confuse one for the other.

Put all of that together: similar appearance, shared markets, shared tools, adjacent fields, and a prohibition so strict that one grain makes the difference — and the kitniyot custom starts to make a lot of sense.

BUT WAIT — ASHKENAZIM AREN’T THE ONLY ONES 🌍

It might surprise you to learn that avoiding rice on Pesach is not exclusively an Ashkenazi practice. Among Sephardic communities, the question of rice is actually a point of division.

Moroccan Jews and Jews from other North African communities — with the exception of Egypt — also refrain from eating rice during Pesach. So this caution around rice is not something unique to Eastern European Jewry.

On the other hand, Jews from Israel, Iran, Iraq, Syria, and other Middle Eastern communities do eat rice on Pesach — and rice plays a central role in their Pesach cooking. If potatoes are the Ashkenazi Pesach staple 🥔, rice is the Middle Eastern equivalent 🍚. It’s on the Seder table, it’s in the soups, it’s in the side dishes — it’s everywhere.

To address the concern about accidental wheat contamination, the custom in these communities is to check the rice carefully — not once, not twice, but three times — before using it for Pesach. That triple-checking is the practical safeguard that allows them to use rice with confidence.

ONE MORE THING WORTH KNOWING 📌

Here’s something that genuinely surprises many people, even those who are quite familiar with Pesach laws:

Even if you follow the tradition of not eating rice and other kitniyot during Pesach, you are completely permitted to keep them in your home. You do not need to throw them out. You do not need to sell them. They can sit in your pantry throughout all of Pesach without any problem. This is explicitly stated in the Shulchan Aruch (Rama, 453:1). The kitniyot restriction is about consumption — not about possession.

And there’s a further nuance, noted by Rabbi Eliezer Melamed in his Penine Halacha, based on the Mishna Berura (ibid., 9): the custom to avoid kitniyot applies when the kitniyot product is the food, or when kitniyot constitute the majority of a given product. But if kitniyot appear as a minor ingredient, or as a food additive — think corn starch, corn fructose, and similar substances — that food is not forbidden during Pesach, even for those who observe the kitniyot restriction.

As always, check with your rabbi about the specific traditions of your community. 🙏