The Great Manischewitz (TM) debate

Continuing in the vein of Kelly Seeger’s post last week in the New Voices blog section, I’d like to use this post to discuss an issue of great import to the Jewish college student: the Great Manischweitz (TM) debate. Of all the ways to bifurcate the world Jewish population, this one might be the most silly—those who like Manischewitz and those who don’t. Personally, I like the stuff in moderation. Not so much that I would consider serving Mani as a cocktail as Adam Goldberg’s character did in that romance scene in “The Hebrew Hammer”, but it’s alright with me. However, having just read a monograph on the social significance of representations of chicken as a food in African American culture (Psyche A Williams-Forsen’s Building Houses Out of Chicken Legs) I’m in the mood to dissect Manischewitz’s (the Concord grape wine, not the gefilte fish, matzah, or all that other stuff) significance in modern American Jewish culture.
Manischewitz’s classic sweetened Concord grape variety so often shows up at the Shabbat dinner and other Jewish functions because it’s a certified kosher wine. But my Bar Mitzvah tutor somehow made a living as a kosher wine merchant, so I know there are finer, more expensive kosher wines out there. But Manischewitz (along with Kedem, another large kosher wine manufacturer) makes one of the more widely-available and cheap kosher wines. A kosher wine is necessary for a proper Sabbath kiddush, and so many families, including my own, keep a large bottle of Manischewitz in stock for Shabbat observance. So the primary purpose of Manischewitz can be seen as ritualistic. Like communion wine, Manischewitz is a not-so tasty, but religiously necessary stand-by. But Manischewitz is also very sweet and so palatable to most, which makes it a favorite of lovers of sweet alcoholic drinks, and disliked by many who find its sweet taste unpalatable.
Almost every Shabbat at my Hillel, there is a mention of the great divide among Swarthmore Hillel members: between those who kind of like Mani, and those who can’t stand the stuff. And every week during kiddush, I make the same joke after I swallow my portion: “ahh, a good year”. This one I can’t claim credit for, my rabbi at home says it at every B’nai Mitzvah. So I think the affection for Mani goes deeper than its sweet, syrupy taste, though dislike for the stuff may be based purely on aesthetic, culinary standards. We like Manischewitz because it seems very classically middle-American Jewish-American. I harbor a fondness for Mani over other kosher wines because it reminds me of Seder at my grandmother’s house. Building Houses of Chicken Legs explains that chicken is often identified with comforting thoughts of a grandmother’s preparation of Sunday dinner and meals for other happy occasions in African American culture. So too Mani had a constant presence at Jewish observances celebrated with family throughout my childhood. And I doubt I’m the only one who associates Manischewitz concord grape wine in the peculiarly shaped bottle with happy time spent with family. So I’ll continue to defend the old stand-by as a symbol and reminder of Jewish observances with family, and harbor a fondness for it as a result.