X

At Google Passover seder, 'koogle' is served

Jessica Dolcourt Senior Director, Commerce & Content Operations
Jessica Dolcourt is a passionate content strategist and veteran leader of CNET coverage. As Senior Director of Commerce & Content Operations, she leads a number of teams, including Commerce, How-To and Performance Optimization. Her CNET career began in 2006, testing desktop and mobile software for Download.com and CNET, including the first iPhone and Android apps and operating systems. She continued to review, report on and write a wide range of commentary and analysis on all things phones, with an emphasis on iPhone and Samsung. Jessica was one of the first people in the world to test, review and report on foldable phones and 5G wireless speeds. Jessica began leading CNET's How-To section for tips and FAQs in 2019, guiding coverage of topics ranging from personal finance to phones and home. She holds an MA with Distinction from the University of Warwick (UK).
Expertise Content strategy, team leadership, audience engagement, iPhone, Samsung, Android, iOS, tips and FAQs.
Jessica Dolcourt
2 min read

At 6 p.m. on Thursday night, hordes of hungry employees streamed into the No Name Cafe on Google's central campus in Mountain View, Calif. On most nights, the No Name chefs serve up a free, gourmet dinner to the cafe's ravenous occupants; on this night, service was invitation-only.

The Google Passover seder--marking the Jewish holiday telling the story of the Israelites' escape from Pharaoh's Egypt--was the brainchild of Google massage therapist Joel Finkelstein and his buddy Todd Koenigsberg, a chef at No Name Cafe. Why not host a friendly seder for the company's Jewish employees and guests, they thought. "We threw this together in a couple weeks. It was very last minute," Finkelstein said.

Click for gallery

In just a few weeks the duo secured the cafe and printed haggadot--the booklets used annually to retell the Passover tale--complete with a humorous cover spoofing Google's famous search tool. Menus were printed, kosher wine procured, and the security detail assigned.

Finkelstein, a rabbi's son, steered the festivities. Googler Dan Ratner's four-piece band played klezmer and Israeli tunes. The 100 guests dutifully dunked flat-leaf Italian parsley into salt water, drank four glasses of commemorative kosher wine, and networked.

Servers carried out 11 dishes for the family-style meal, including house-made gefilte ("stuffed") fish; a Sephardic vegetable rice wrap acknowledging a branch of Spanish-Jewish traditions; and potato "koogle," a Google-ized take on kugel, the Yiddish word for a type of baked pudding or casserole. At one point, Google employee Matt Stone commented on the repast: "It was great enjoying the company of my fellow Googlers accompanied by the best food and drink I've ever experienced at a seder. Sorry, Mom!"

Finkelstein never called for guests to find the afikomen, a customary scavenger hunt for a hidden half piece of matzah, leaving my corner of the table slightly wistful. But the seder did end in the customary Hebrew words, "B'shana haba'ah b'yerushalayim": Next year in Jerusalem! If that's too far for most employees to travel, perhaps next year again will be at Google.