For seven weeks, while the wheat grew in scorching heat under impossibly
blue skies, two men clothed in the traditional black and white garments
of the Hasidim stayed in a trailer overlooking the crop, to be able to
attest that the wheat, once matured, had been untouched by rain or other
moisture. Workers were prohibited from carrying water bottles in the
field. Dust danced in the air as the wind blew, but unpaved roads could
not be wet while the wheat was growing. The goal was to prevent any
natural fermentation from taking place in the grains before they were
milled into flour and the matzo was baked, sometime in the late fall.
The New York Times reports:
…Yisroel Tzvi Brody, rabbi of the Shaarei Orah synagogue in Borough Park, Brooklyn, stood at the edge of one of the fields [in far southern Arizona not far from the Mexican border where rain is scarce this time of year] on Monday, stooping to rub a grain of wheat between his wrinkled thumb and index finger. Removing his glasses, he brought the grain close to his eyes and turned it from side to side, like a gemologist inspecting a precious stone.
“It is to ascertain that it’s not sprouted,” Rabbi Brody explained. “If it has, it’s not valid.”
For seven weeks, while the wheat grew in scorching heat under impossibly blue skies, two men clothed in the traditional black and white garments of the Hasidim stayed in a trailer overlooking the crop, to be able to attest that the wheat, once matured, had been untouched by rain or other moisture. Workers were prohibited from carrying water bottles in the field. Dust danced in the air as the wind blew, but unpaved roads could not be wet while the wheat was growing. The goal was to prevent any natural fermentation from taking place in the grains before they were milled into flour and the matzo was baked, sometime in the late fall.
Tradition calls for keeping watch over the matzo from the time the wheat is milled. Ultra-Orthodox Jews have carried that practice several steps further, guarding the grains before the wheat is harvested to ensure they are not overripe or wet from rainfall. That can be a challenging task on the rainy East Coast. Nonetheless, one segment of the Satmar sect, the largest Hasidic group in the United States, grows its wheat there, following seasonal weather forecasts to search for areas where rain is least likely to fall right before the wheat matures.
Five years ago, another Satmar group began shifting its wheat-growing operation here, where rain is rare at this time of year. That opened a new front line in the competition for the most rigorous standards in the production of matzo.…At noon, [the Kiryas Joel Satmar Rebbe] Rabbi Aaron Teitelbaum climbed onto a combine and started the engine to begin the harvest. A Hasidic man was at the wheel. Mr. Dunn’s son, Kirk, who is studying agronomy at the University of Arizona, rode by his side as the combine lumbered across the field, gathering grain, the rabbis cheering from the sidelines.
Related Post: Video – Satmar Rabbis Harvest Wheat In Indiana For Shmurah Matzoh.
[Hat Tips: Moshe in Israel, Devorah, Ruthie, Eric.]