The matzo factory became famous when news coverage of the vacate named the grain silos as the main flammability concern of the FDNY. There were indeed grain silos, along with an artesian well drilled right into the basement floor. The height of kosher-ness, the “shmurah” matzos needed to be made with pure water, so drilling a well, in a building across the street from the East River was the obvious solution. The grain needed to be blessed by a rabbi; by storing it in the silos, Nachman saved money. Rather than having to pay for blessings sack by sack, a quick brucha over each silo did the job. The beginning of the matzo season, about a month before Passover, was marked by the building occasionally smelling overwhelmingly of wood-smoke, as the ovens were fired up. As Passover approached, a line of identically clad black figures could be seen, waiting to purchase the coveted unleavened bread for top dollar. Members of the Hassidic community were also invited in to “roll their own” matzos. It was a sight to see: the workers cleaning of the work tables and sanding down the rolling pins every 18 minutes (which either coincided with the point at which natural leavening would occur, or the time it took the Jews to cross the Red Sea), flour powdering the clothes of payos-coiffed men, be-wigged ladies and their exuberant progeny as they busily rolled out the dough, the absolute purity of the matzos standing in sharp contrast to the general filth of the basement.