This is no ordinary meal. Imagine an Iron Chef competition in which the secret ingredients are horseradish, parsley, and thousands of years of oppression distilled into a vinegar derivative called Manischewitz. Next remove all dairy and grain products from the kitchen. Now add your aforementioned cousins, who have nothing better to do than redistribute their yolk in the name of equality, which they learned from your uncle who kept interrupting the meal to talk about how awful Obama has been for him, and how he’s thinking of leaving the country and moving to Miami for tax purposes.

But I digress. The rest of the holiday is slightly less exciting, albeit equally difficult for the gastronomically challenged. I would be remiss to leave out how amazing Hillel has been, serving both lunch and dinner this holiday to help those of us struggling to get our fill of stuffed peppers and kugel. But the struggle hardly ends with dinner. Somewhere along the line, it was determined that beer is off limits, thanks to its barley or wheat content. Most vodka is a no go, too, leaving us with little more than plum brandy and Manischewitz. What a selection. Whoop de whoop. If the food carts outside the Science Center really wanted to make a killing this week, they’d be selling kosher-for-Passover rum and cokes. I’d tap that. With a straw. And maybe one of those little umbrellas. Once I turn 21, that is.

For those who couldn’t tell, I really miss bread right now. I’m sitting here overcome with jealousy as I watch everyone else enjoy their French toast and English muffins and Danish danishes. But there’s no turning back. If we built the pyramids we can surely survive for a week on crackers and cheese.

Perhaps with some horseradish on top.

Happy Passover.

Jacob R. Drucker ‘15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an applied mathematics concentrator in Mather House. His column appears on alternate Fridays.