By: Fern Sidman

As antisemitic incidents surge across New York City’s subway system, one fearless rapper is choosing matzo balls, rhymes, and radical hospitality as his form of resistance.

Rami Matan Even-Esh — better known by his stage name Kosha Dillz — has transformed Passover into a mobile, musical protest by staging elaborate Seder dinners on subway trains. Dressed as Moses, complete with a faux beard and flowing robe, the 43-year-old rapper is delivering much more than matzah to unsuspecting commuters: He’s serving up humor, unity, and spiritual defiance. As reported by The New York Post on Thursday, Even-Esh’s underground Seders are both a heartfelt cultural expression and a statement against hate.

“It’s a really great way to bring people together,” Even-Esh told The New York Post. “There are so many antisemitic train incidents, but the dinner has a spiritual, deeper meaning.”

Indeed, the rapper’s roving Seder includes everything from Katz’s legendary matzoh ball soup to grape juice, gefilte fish, and rhymes inspired by The Notorious B.I.G. As subway doors slide open, Even-Esh rolls in folding tables, place settings, and the full array of Passover ritual foods, welcoming anyone — regardless of faith, ethnicity, or background — to join him for the ancient Jewish tradition.

The tone is both reverent and irreverent. Even-Esh’s lyrics, like his “Matzo Poppa” freestyle set to the tune of Biggie’s “Big Poppa,” are delivered with a wink — but the mission is deadly serious. Against the backdrop of rising antisemitism since Hamas’ brutal October 7, 2023 attack on Israel, Even-Esh sees these Seders as a necessary reminder of Jewish resilience and a rebuttal to hatred.

The New York Post report highlighted one particularly tense encounter last year when a protester on her way to Columbia University interrupted the Seder, yelling “Why don’t you free Palestine?” Instead of retaliating, Even-Esh extended an invitation. “‘You’re coming out of pocket right now,’” he recalled telling her. “‘We’re doing a Seder and you’re actually invited… I gotta finish this and then we can talk.’” She declined — but the gesture underscored his deeper point: Even in confrontation, there is space for conversation.

That spirit of inclusivity has led to surprising moments of connection. As The New York Post reported, one subway performance saw a Dominican father and son eagerly sampling matzah crackers, while an Egyptian teenager wearing a “Free Palestine” bracelet joined the Seder mid-ride. Even-Esh sees such encounters as micro-miracles, driven by food, rhythm, and the universal language of laughter.

“We’re all going through tough times — New York is a tough place,” he told The New York Post. “We all think we’re bigger than we are, and the subway is a humbling place.”

That humility undergirds Even-Esh’s activism. His subway Seder series, now expanding to the A, C, E, and possibly L trains, is designed not only to celebrate Jewish tradition but also to humanize it — especially in a moment when Jews are increasingly targeted on public transit and across college campuses.

Even-Esh’s creative outreach won’t stop in the subway tunnels. On Saturday, he plans to host a Passover-themed performance outside Madison Square Garden during the Knicks-Pistons game, the report in The New York Post said. His goal? To mix prayer, performance, and parody for the benefit of a wider audience — and maybe bring a little divine favor to the Knicks while he’s at it.

“We’re praying for the Knicks,” he joked to The New York Post. But the subtext is clear: If matzo balls and laughter can lift spirits, maybe they can also lower tensions.

Even-Esh’s approach — part rabbi, part rapper, part street performer — flips the script on both Jewish ritual and public protest. In a city where cultural divisions often seem to harden by the day, his Seder-in-transit is an invitation to see one another differently.

“If I can make the world a little happier and lighter, that’s awesome,” he said.

And judging by the joy of commuters sharing a communal Seder on a rumbling Q train, he’s succeeding — one matzoh ball at a time.

In a time of growing tension, Even-Esh reminds us that resistance doesn’t always have to shout. Sometimes, it can sing.