(ג) הביאו לפניו מטבל בחזרת. עד שמגיע לפרפרת הפת. הביאו לפניו מצה וחזרת. וחרוסת. ושני תבשילין. אף על פי שאין חרוסת מצוה. רבי אליעזר בר צדוק אומר. מצוה. ובמקדש. היו מביאים לפניו גופו של פסח:
(3)They bring [it] in front of him. He dips lettuce until he reaches the appetizer that precedes the bread. They bring before him matzah, lettuce, and haroset, and two cooked foods, though the haroset is not mandatory. Rabbi Elazar son of Rabbi Zadok says: it is mandatory. And in the Temple they bring the body of the Pesach sacrifice before him.
רבי אלעזר בר' צדוק אומר מצוה וכו': מאי מצוה רבי לוי אומר זכר לתפוח ור' יוחנן אומר זכר לטיט אמר אביי הלכך צריך לקהוייה וצריך לסמוכיה לקהוייה זכר לתפוח וצריך לסמוכיה זכר לטיט תניא כוותיה דרבי יוחנן תבלין זכר לתבן חרוסת זכר לטיט אמר רבי אלעזר בר' צדוק כך היו אומרים תגרי חרך שבירושלים בואו וטלו לכם תבלין למצוה:
(Note: the non-bold material is not in the original text - it's based on Rashi and other commentary)
The mishna states: Rabbi Elazar, son of Rabbi Tzadok, says that eating ḥaroset is a mitzva. The Gemara asks: What is the nature of this mitzva? The Gemara answers: Rabbi Levi says: It is in remembrance of the apple, as apple is one of the ingredients in ḥaroset. The verse states: “Who is this who comes up from the wilderness, reclining upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I awakened you” (Song of Songs 8:5), which is an allusion to the Jewish people leaving Egypt. And Rabbi Yoḥanan says: The ḥaroset is in remembrance of the mortar used by the Jews for their slave labor in Egypt. Abaye said: Therefore, to fulfill both opinions, one must prepare it tart and one must prepare it thick. One must prepare it tart in remembrance of the apple, and one must prepare it thick in remembrance of the mortar. It was taught in a baraita in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yoḥanan: The spices used in the ḥaroset are in remembrance of the hay that our forefathers used for building in Egypt, and the ḥaroset itself is in remembrance of the mortar. Rabbi Elazar, son of Rabbi Tzadok, said: When selling ḥaroset, the small shopkeepers in Jerusalem would say as follows: Come and take spices for yourselves for the mitzva.
(יא) הַחֲרֹסֶת מִצְוָה מִדִּבְרֵי סוֹפְרִים זֵכֶר לַטִּיט שֶׁהָיוּ עוֹבְדִין בּוֹ בְּמִצְרַיִם. וְכֵיצַד עוֹשִׂין אוֹתָהּ. לוֹקְחִין תְּמָרִים אוֹ גְּרוֹגָרוֹת אוֹ צִמּוּקִין וְכַיּוֹצֵא בָּהֶן וְדוֹרְסִין אוֹתָן וְנוֹתְנִין לְתוֹכָן חֹמֶץ וּמְתַבְּלִין אוֹתָן בְּתַבְלִין כְּמוֹ טִיט בְּתֶבֶן וּמְבִיאִין אוֹתָהּ עַל הַשֻּׁלְחָן בְּלֵילֵי הַפֶּסַח:
{This is from Maimonides' book of law, the Mishneh Torah, from the 12th century}
Charoset is a mitzvah according to the words of the scribes (rabbis), as a remembrance of the clay that they used in Egypt. How do we make it? We take dates, dried fig cakes or raisins and the like, crush them, add vinegar, and mix them in with spices just as clay is mixed into straw. This is placed on the table on the Seder nights of Passover.
Note: The word charoset comes from the Hebrew word cheres (חרס), meaning clay.
(יד) וַיְמָרְר֨וּ אֶת־חַיֵּיהֶ֜ם בַּעֲבֹדָ֣ה קָשָׁ֗ה בְּחֹ֙מֶר֙ וּבִלְבֵנִ֔ים וּבְכָל־עֲבֹדָ֖ה בַּשָּׂדֶ֑ה אֵ֚ת כָּל־עֲבֹ֣דָתָ֔ם אֲשֶׁר־עָבְד֥וּ בָהֶ֖ם בְּפָֽרֶךְ׃
(14) And they made their lives bitter with hard service, in mortar and in brick, and in all manner of service in the field; in all their service, wherein they made them serve with rigour.
Modern Interpretations
Rabbi Arthur Waskow, The Shalom Center:
"Why is there charoset on the Seder plate?"...
The Haggadah explains about matzah, the bread so dry it blocks your insides for a week.
The Haggadah explains about the horse-radish so bitter it blows the lid off your lungs and makes breathing so painful you wish you could just stop.
The Haggadah even explains about that scrawny chicken neck masquerading as a whole roast lamb.
But it never explains charoset.
Yes, there's an oral tradition. (Fitting for something that tastes so delicious!) You've probably heard somebody at a Passover Seder claim that charoset is the mortar the ancient Israelite slaves had to paste between the bricks and stones of those giant warehouses they were building for Pharaoh.
But that's a cover story. Really dumb. You think that mortar was so sweet, so spicy, so delicious that every ancient Israelite just had to slaver some mortar on his tongue?
You think it wasn't leeks and onions they wailed for after they crossed the Sea of Blood, but the mortar they were pasting on their masters' mansions? You think they were whining, "Give me mortar or give me death?"
Forbid it, Almighty God!...
[Unlike everything else on the seder plate, we don't say a blessing over the charoset on Passover. We do, however, read the Song of Songs.] The Song of Songs is the recipe for charoset. Verses from the Song:
"Feed me with apples and with raisin-cakes;
"Your kisses are sweeter than wine;
"The scent of your breath is like apricots;
"Your cheeks are a bed of spices;
"The fig tree has ripened;
"Then I went down to the walnut grove."
Charoset and Matzah
Rabbi Alana Suskin
The symbols of slavery and freedom are mixed together in our seder – in our mouths! – because they are joined together. In the Tur, (טור אורח חיים סימן תעה), R’ Amram writes, “one blesses motzi and dips into charoset and eats, and so also writes Rambam,but I don’t know why one dips this into the charoset. … And also, the Baal Hamanhig raises a difficulty for their opinions that the matza is in memory of the freedom and the charoset is in memory of the mortar and how could these [two completely opposed symbols: freedom and slavery] be joined together?"
The irony is that it is the charoset which is sweet and the matzah which is flat and bland. That mortar which ties us to the way we’ve always done it is indeed seductive and sweet. [While real freedom requires effort, and willingness to give up some accustomed comfort.]
Charoset: Its Meaning
Rabbi David Seidenberg
There's one important symbol that we don't explain even once: the charoset....The essence of the charoset in the Talmud is not that it should be sweet, but that it should be tart, like apples, and thick, like mud. A few interpretations of this: it's a reminder of the (tart) apple trees in Egypt under which Israel made love and gave birth; it's a reminder of the mud and straw (dates/apples and spices) for the bricks they made as slaves.
I think charoset might [embody] what happens when we can't separate out the symbols, when they get stuck together, when the slavery and freedom are mishmashed together. Like the wicked child's picture of the world, there's no separation between worship and enslavement (both are called "Avodah" after all). Like the tree of knowledge, literally the tree of knowing good and evil, i.e., good and evil all mixed together, it represents our normal lives...
...So one more lesson of the Haggadah is: don't separate your normal muddled state from the holy and mystical and transformative; even if you're stuck in what is sour, in the mud, add the sweetness. Leave Egypt with all your possessions, the remnants of slavery, the hopes of freedom, and everything in between.