Anyone who knows me knows that in general, I love to host. Feeding my friends and family is one of my passions, and planning and executing a function is another one. This makes hosting an ideal activity for me. I can text friends one to two months in advance to save the date, I can put together a perfect menu and a gorgeous tablescape, and I can bring the people I love into my home so we can create a memorable evening together — and while of course there’s work and a little bit of stress involved, these activities fill me with joy and contentment.
Because of this, I’ve become the de facto Passover host in my group of friends for the past few years. I make brisket, sometimes one or more set of our parents are in town and I invite them too, and I choose a meaningful haggadah to guide us through the seder.
But this year… I just couldn’t manage it. When, mid-March, I realized that Passover was just about a month away, I felt filled with dread. Rather than the excitement I usually feel when I start to plan my seder, I felt like doing so would actually be impossible.
I broke it to my wife first. “There’s a strong possibility we’re doing Passover on our own this year, babe,” I told her. She was predictably lovely about it, and said she’d still break out her guitar for “Miriam’s Song,” even if it was just the two of us. Next I told my friends who I usually invite. “I don’t want to pressure you into hosting,” I told them, “but I just can’t do it this year.” None of those friends promised to host — completely understandable, as it is a big task that does not fill everyone with joy! — but they all completely understood. We agreed we may do a potluck scenario, if everyone felt up to it. As of now, no one has organized the potluck scenario, and as I warned them, I simply cannot take it on. So it’s looking like I might be about to embark on the lowest of low key Passovers I’ve experienced as an adult… and I’m actually totally OK with that.
Look, attending a seder can be meaningful, spiritual, affirming and wonderful. Hosting one can be all those things, plus some extra pride (and extra anxiety). But some years, we just don’t have it in us. Maybe, like me, you’ve been juggling a lot of health-related things in your family and you’re at capacity on doing anything besides following up with doctors. Maybe things are really hectic at work and it’s your first year living far away from your parents. Maybe you are simply alive, as a Jew, in 2025, and *broad gestures* everything has sort of just gotten you down! I’m here to tell you that even those of us who truly love hosting and celebrating Passover sometimes have to skip a year, and I’m giving you permission to do so, too.
But if you’re not hosting or attending a seder this year and you still want to celebrate Passover in the lowest of low key ways, I have some ideas for you.
1. Solo Seder
It’s totally fine to be by yourself, or with one or two friends/roommates/partner(s), for a seder. Your shopping bill will be lower, your prep will be easier and you could even be wild and make kosher hot dogs (with no buns! Or wrapped in matzah like these deep-fried delights!) or steaks for the main course instead of brisket. If you’re fully by yourself, you can take some time to really deeply read the haggadah, or even just write in your journal about what Passover means to you. After all, it is a night where we are meant to rest and recline… maybe you just need to have a short and sweet solo seder and then take a nap or get a good night’s sleep. As my mom likes to say: Hashem would understand.
2. ‘Prince of Egypt’ Watch Party
This is self-explanatory. The “Prince of Egypt” is a foundational text and watching it, either alone or with other Jews, absolutely counts as celebrating Passover. The only question is, will you have the energy to belt each song like it’s karaoke night at your favorite dive bar, or will you simply hum along quietly while secretly crushing on Moses?
3. Matzah Meal
What if, instead of doing a whole seder, you simply… ate some matzah? Bonus points if you can include maror and charoset, but frankly, this is all about doing the absolute least. What if you just ate some butter and matzah over your kitchen sink and thought about how much you love being a Jew? Dayenu, babes.
4. Matzah Party
So you want a slightly more social experience than the ol’ eat-buttered-matzah-over-your-sink situation, but you’re still too tired to create a whole meal? Let me interest you in a Matzah Party! Choose your vibe — sweet or savory — and tell a few friends to come over to make either Matzah Pizza or Matzah Toffee. Put on a Passover playlist (we’ve got you covered) and let the holiday vibes wash over you. Eat your pizzas and/or toffees together and feel at peace knowing not every year calls for a seder.
5. Passover Potluck
Part of the stress of hosting is like, doing all the stuff, you know? It’s inviting the guests, setting the table, curating a vibe, cooking a full meal, finding your seder plate and haggadahs, plating the ritual objects just so… it’s a lot! The antidote to a formal Passover seder is a casual Passover potluck. This one only works if you can get buy in from a few friends, but if your whole group is feeling like a low key scenario this year, this is the option for you.
Pick a time that works for everyone (it doesn’t have to be the first night of Passover — it could be a random Tuesday early evening). Accept that you may not have a “full meal” or even a “cohesive meal” — no one has enough energy to make a spreadsheet to guide who should bring what. Just bring whatever. Do a short retelling of the Passover story. Drink some wine or some grape juice or frankly, some flavored bubbly water. I recommend bringing deviled eggs, they’re always a potluck crowd pleaser. Enjoy being with your Jewish community without the stress of a full blown seder. You’ll host one again next year — or not. And that’s OK.
