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Genoa, Morocco, Yemen…so which one is “right”?
At some point in the etrog-buying process, the question shifts.
It’s no longer: “Is this kosher?”
It becomes: “Wait – what kind of etrog is this?”
And then, five minutes later:
“Is mine the right kind… or did I just accidentally join the wrong minhag (custom)?”
Welcome to the world of etrog varieties – where agriculture, tradition (mesorah), and a little bit of quiet tribal loyalty all collide.
Let’s break down what’s actually going on, without turning this into a botany lecture.
Let’s unpack this – with sources, clarity, and only mild roofing anxiety.
First Things First: There’s No “One Best Etrog”
Sorry, but there isn’t a universal winner
Despite how passionately people talk about their preferred etrog, there is no single “best” variety according to halacha (Jewish law).
Instead, the conversation revolves around two main factors:
Mesorah (tradition): What a given community has historically used
Concerns about grafting (murkav): Whether the etrog may have been hybridized with another citrus fruit, which can invalidate it
That’s why the same fruit that one community insists is ideal might be completely ignored by another.
And both can be 100% correct – within their own framework.
If the sun outnumbers the shadows, your Sukkah is basically a decorative patio.
The Big Categories: Who Uses What
The “Eretz Yisrael” Etrog
Many people prefer etrogim grown in Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel) – not necessarily because of technical halachic superiority, but because of:
Supporting local agriculture
A connection to the land itself
Long-standing cultural preference
But here’s the twist: even within Israel, there isn’t just one type.
The Balady / Chazon Ish Etrog
These etrogim trace back to varieties historically grown in Arab villages in the Land of Israel, often referred to as “Balady” etrogim (Balady meaning “local” or “native”).
They’re associated with figures like the Chazon Ish and later cultivators, and are often seen as preserving older, non-grafted lines.
Translation moment:
Murkav = grafted (a citrus tree combined with another species)
This matters because a grafted etrog may be invalid for the mitzvah.
The Ordang / Chadera Etrog
Now we get into one of the more interesting stories.
In the early 20th century, a family named Ordang planted etrog orchards in Chadera, Israel (1927). These became known as “Ordang etrogim.”
They gained rabbinic approval from multiple authorities, though not without debate:
Some accepted them as reliable and non-grafted
Others (notably attributed to the Chazon Ish) reportedly had reservations about their lineage
There are also competing theories about where they came from:
Possibly from Shechem (Nablus)
Possibly from Jaffa etrogim
Possibly influenced by Corsican varieties
Over time, the original orchard declined, but the strain continued through other growers and is still widely used today, often under different names.
What they’re like
Smaller in size
Bumpy texture (blitos = protrusions)
Pointed top (chotem = “nose”)
Often with a pitam (the protruding tip at the top)
In other words: very “classic etrog-looking” etrogim.
The Italian (Calabrian / “Yanova”) Etrog
This is the one many people recognize – even if they don’t know the name.
Origin: Calabria, Italy
Often called a “Yanova etrog” (Yiddish pronunciation of Genoa)
These are strongly associated with:
Chabad (Lubavitch)
Satmar and other Chassidic groups
There’s also a long-standing tradition that early etrogim used historically came from this region.
Fun twist: even when used in Israel today, they’re often grown locally from Italian lineage, not imported directly.
Moroccan Etrogim
Used widely among:
Moroccan communities
Some Sephardic and Chassidic groups
These often have distinctive shapes and are sometimes associated with features like a “gartel” (a belt-like indentation around the middle).
They’re another example of how regional agriculture became embedded into religious practice.
Yemenite Etrogim: The Boldest Claim on the Table
If most communities say, “This is our tradition,” Yemenite Jews say something stronger:
“This is the original.”
Yemenite etrogim are unique because:
They tend to be much larger
They often lack the typical juicy pulp found in other etrogim
Some hold that all other etrogim may have been hybridized, while theirs remained pure
That last point is a big claim – and not universally accepted – but it explains why Yemenite communities are often very strict about using only their own variety.
So…Does Anyone Still Use Corfu?
Short answer: much less than before.
Corfu (a Greek island) was historically a major source of etrogim, especially in Europe. But over time:
Concerns about reliability and kashrut (validity) arose
Other sources (Italy, Israel, Morocco) became more dominant
Today, it’s not a primary player in most communities.
What This Is Really About (Hint: It’s Not Agriculture)
At face value, this whole discussion sounds like produce shopping with extra steps.
But it’s actually about something deeper:
Mesorah (Tradition)
In halacha, continuity matters.
If a community has used a specific type of etrog for generations, that history becomes part of its validation. It’s not just “we like this one” – it’s “this is what we trust.”
Risk management (yes, really)
Much of the variation comes down to one concern:
Avoiding a murkav (grafted) etrog.
Since grafting can invalidate the fruit, communities historically leaned toward:
Varieties with a known track record
Sources with rabbinic supervision (hashgacha)
Over time, those choices hardened into tradition.
Identity (the part nobody says out loud)
Let’s be honest: there’s also a subtle identity layer.
“We use this kind”
“Our community holds by that one”
It’s not meant to be divisive – it’s just how traditions evolve.
The Bottom Line: Choose Your Lane, Not “The Winner”
If someone is looking for the “best” etrog, they’re asking the wrong question.
A better question is:
“What’s the right etrog for this person’s minhag and comfort level?”
Because in practice:
A Yemenite etrog isn’t “better” than a Calabrian one
An Ordang etrog isn’t “worse” than a Moroccan one
And a Balady etrog isn’t automatically more authentic than the rest
They’re all part of a larger system balancing:
Halacha
Tradition
Trust
Practical Takeaways (Without Panicking)
Let’s summarize:
✔ A Sukkah roof does not need to be perfectly level.
Slanted Schach is fine if there is sufficient valid roofing space and required dimensions are met [OC 631:10].
✔ A pergola can work.
If the slats provide more shade than sun overall and are halachically acceptable materials, it may be valid. Refreshing may not even be required if it was built for shade [MB 636:3–4].
✔ Metal support beams do not automatically invalidate everything.
They create non-Schach zones, but the Sukkah can remain kosher if enough valid Schach remains [OC 626:3; MB ad loc.].
✔ Gezeirat Tikrah is about appearance.
Very wide boards that resemble a permanent ceiling may raise issues.
✔ Measurements matter.
Minimum interior space of 7x7 tefachim and 10 tefachim high must exist within the valid area [Rema to OC 631:10].
Final Disclaimer (The Responsible Kind)
When dealing with real-life construction – especially questions involving board width, beam spacing, or permanent structures – consult a qualified halachic authority.
But rest assured:
If your Sukkah roof is a little crooked, a little slanted, or slightly architectural – you’re in good company.
Judaism has been building temporary huts for over three thousand years.
A diagonal beam is not going to scare it now.
Final Thought
The etrog world looks complicated from the outside.
But zoom out, and it’s actually pretty simple:
Different communities solved the same problem in different ways – and then stuck with what worked.
So whether it’s bumpy, smooth, Italian, Israeli, or large enough to double as a paperweight…
If it’s kosher, fits your mesorah, and feels right in your hand – you’re holding exactly the etrog you’re supposed to.