Welcome back to the world of chametz, Noshers! I kept Kosher for Passover until Monday night at 6 p.m. when my pizza was ready for pick up. I made my husband drive so I could start eating it in the car. (I figured I had earned the right to start without him, since he didn’t keep Kosher for Passover.)
I liken those first gooey bites of mozzarella-topped goodness to the Israelites crossing into the Promised Land — I had personally been delivered from my own chametz-free Egypt after a seven day exodus (far easier than 40 years, I’ll give you).
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