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What do a grandmother, a goat statue, a grater, a flour whisk, and a picture of Rutgers professor Azzan Yadin have in common? They were all props at the first "Great Debate" hosted by Rutgers University since its inception in 1946.

A tradition at dozens of Hillels across the country, "The Great Debate" is a mock humorous debate over which culturally Jewish food is superior -- the latke, an oily Hanukkah delight, or the hamantasch, a baked Purim staple. When I heard from my own co-workers at The Jewish State about debates held at their colleges, I couldn't help but think that this is an event that just had to be brought to Rutgers Hillel.

I started planning with the help of the Allen and Joan Bildner Center for the Study of Jewish Life in late December, going through all the ins and outs with my co-chair Ilana of what would make a fantastic debate. Do we do what Princeton did by including students? Do we do what Johns Hopkins did and put a break between the rounds of debate? How many rounds should there be? What could we do to make The Great Debate at Rutgers shine scarlet-bright on its own?

Ilana and I brought in the professors and deans we knew would make the most out of a mock debate. We started by asking Dean Matt Matsuda, the dean of the College Avenue campus, on which Hillel is located and holds the majority of its events. Known for his spunk and his willingness to participate in such creative events, Matsuda re-arranged his own schedule to moderate the debate for us.

The professors were just as easy to find as the moderator. The first I had was professor emeritus Gordon Schochet. Although he had retired the previous year, he's still practically a legend at Rutgers, and there was no way that I could pass up the opportunity to ask him to come back to Hillel and participate in the debate. He immediately said yes, with gusto.

He brought a portrait of his grandmother, whom I knew was one of the most important figures in his life, and explained her "disdain" for hamantaschen. He also brought a goat statue, whose horns he compared to the sharp corners on the triangle-shaped cookie, and told a tale about the goat that had the audience roaring with laughter. He literally cut up his opponent, taking a picture of Professor Yadin, cutting it into a circle, and folding it into the shape of a hamantasch to demonstrate defeating Team Hamantasch.

The Hillel student board had almost unanimously recommended that we invite Professor Azzan Yadin of the Jewish Studies department to the debate. He said yes, with an enthusiasm as strong as Schochet's. And he did not disappoint -- a member of Team Hamantash, he presented Sunday's audience with a packet of "biblical sources" for the importance of hamantaschen. In a reference to the manna from the desert, called "ha-man" in Hebrew, he placed the word "oznei" in front, referring to the Hebrew word for hamantasch, "oznei Haman."

Accompanied with "ancient artwork" of Adam and Eve picking the forbidden fruit of hamantasch from the tree of knowledge and women collecting oznei haman falling from the sky, his presentation was one of the biggest hits of the debate.

Professor Muli Peleg was a given as well for us to invite to the debate. The Schusterman Visiting Professor at Bildner, Peleg is a favorite among Jewish Studies and Middle Eastern Studies majors at Rutgers.

He drew on his expertise in conflict-resolution to describe the latke's approachability and the hamentasch's stubborn disposition, characterized by its three elbow-like corners, pushing itself into every situation where it is not wanted.

And then there was the fourth spot. Ilana came up with the idea to hold an election in which students vote in a professor. Out of several dozen nominations, one rose to the top -- Professor Leslie Fishbein, an American Studies professor and one of the organizers of the New Jersey Jewish Film Festival. When we approached her, she also gave us a resounding yes.

We placed her on Team Hamantasch with Professor Yadin, and let her come up with her arguments. She attacked the latke from all angles, defending the hamantasch from every angle imaginable, from ecological to feminist grounds. She even brought in ice cream flavors, explaining that cookie dough (like in hamantaschen) is a popular favorite made by all companies, but not even a pregnant woman would want to eat refuse oil flavor ice cream, leftover from cooking latkes.

Ilana and I had all four professors march in with boxing robes to the theme from "Rocky" and sit down at tables where Dean Matsuda, dressed in tails, greeted each contestant. At each chair was a pair of boxing gloves. And at the end of each round -- signaled by Dean Matsuda beating a grater with a flour whisk -- the audience was on the edge of their chairs, waiting for the next round to begin.

After an hour of arguing, insult-hurling, and screaming, Team Hamantasch was declared the winner. Of course, the exciting round of debate was followed with latkes and hamantaschen for both the winners and the losers. Some people came in Purim costume -- including Ilana and me, each wearing a referee's uniform and a whistle. Some brought their own signs to cheer on their favorite professors. And many came not knowing what to expect.

However, all the feedback we've received exceeded our own high expectations for The Great Debate. After 64 years, Rutgers had finally joined Hillels all over the country to bring this tradition to our own college -- and we had made it all our own.

Sarah Morrison is staff writer for The Jewish State. No goats were harmed in the making of this event.