Searching for one GOP vote at a time in big New York City | McClatchy Washington Bureau

The Jewish holiday of Passover is coming, and that means a chance for Republicans to pick up some badly needed GOP convention delegates.

Yes, in this street brawl of a nominating process, every delegate matters. And since delegates often are awarded according to a candidate’s showing in each congressional district, that means convincing the locals you’re sort of one of them.

That’s why, as New York’s Tuesday primary approaches, presidential candidates have campaigned as though they were seeking city council seats, making sure they stopped at local Brooklyn bakeries where workers are furiously making matzo, the unleavened bread Jews ceremoniously eat during the eight days of Passover. The holiday begins at sundown April 22.

Gov. John Kasich of Ohio stood outside a Borough Park facility on a cold, damp afternoon one day this week, holding a 1-pound box of matzo and expounding on the similarities between Christians and Jews. Sen. Ted Cruz, R-Texas, went to a matzo operation in another part of the borough and joked about “hole-y” matzo.

No audience is too small for such surgical delegate operations. No congressional district is too remote. New York has a total of 95 Republicans delegates, one of the last big state prizes remaining in the primary race. Fourteen go to the statewide winner. Each of the 27 congressional districts awards three.

Polls show Donald Trump, the billionaire businessman and Manhattan icon, far ahead of Cruz and Kasich in the state, so the underdogs have two missions. One is to pick up delegates in the congressional districts. If Trump gets more than 50 percent in a district, he gets all three. If not, his rivals could pick up delegates.

The other goal is to get more than 20 percent of the vote statewide while keeping Trump under 50. If he gets the majority, he gets all the at-large delegates. If not, they’re distributed proportionately to candidates who get more than 20 percent.

That means Brooklyn, where 608 Republicans voted in one congressional district in 2012 and 801 voted in another, has as much clout as the district that includes Long Island’s Suffolk County. More than 10,000 voted there in the 2012 primary.

Kasich and Cruz need every last delegate in what’s become an insider dogfight to stop Trump from going to the convention with the 1,237 needed to nominate. Trump has 743 now, to Cruz’s 545 and Kasich’s 143. But Trump lacks Cruz’s strong organization, and Kasich cites polls showing he’s the most electable Republican in a general election.

The challengers’ strategy is simple: “There are three delegates available per (congressional district), regardless of how many, or how few, Republicans vote in them,” said John Weaver, Kasich’s chief strategist.

So Kasich and Cruz zero in on friendly slices of the boroughs, wandering in as awkward intruders in a land ruled by Democrats. In Manhattan, Kasich brought his bid within blocks of the 52-story Trump Tower this week, choosing the historic Women’s National Republican Club nearby to deliver a speech warning the party was facing two paths. The Trump-Cruz approach, he warned, is a “path to darkness.”

Voters appreciated the message, but he couldn’t close the deal. People here are too familiar with Trump, and that works both ways. They’ve seen tabloid headlines about Trump’s foibles screaming at them from every street corner for decades, so little about his 2016 bluster surprises them.

Joan Camera, a New York City health care consultant, was torn. As a businesswoman, she appreciates Trump’s understanding of how she operates, and hopes he can bring tax relief. But as someone who grew up in a strong Catholic home, she appreciates Cruz’s appeal to religious values.

Knowing Trump, though, also creates an opening for Cruz and Kasich. “I’m not a prude, but he’s a bit of a pig,” said Bill Fowler, a New York City announcer and narrator.

Brooklyn’s gritty, crowded Borough Park has its own look and feel. This is one of the centers of the city’s Orthodox Jewish community, where strict religious values are practiced and revered, where voters have been turning more to Republicans because of the party’s strong support for those values.

That means, for candidates, heading to places such as matzo bakeries. It’s one-stop political shopping: Lots of workers, good pictures and goodwill. Cruz poured on the charm during his visit to a Brighton Beach facility, as he was asked whether this was his first matzo-making experience.

“It is,” Cruz said. Would he like a hat? “I’ll pass on the hat. It’s a basic rule of politics. Be careful with hats,” he said. Does he prefer his matzo dark or light? “Ahhh, surprise me,” he said.

Cruz explained he had been “privileged to be at many a Seder table,” referring to the feast that marks the beginning of Passover.

Kasich took another path. After his tour of a Borough Park bakery, he gave a Bible lesson on the sidewalk to reporters and about 20 local residents.

He talked about the “great link” between Christianity and Judaism. “It was the blood of the lamb that saved the Jewish people and in Christianity it was the blood of the lamb of God that saves all of us,” he explained.

The D train kept rumbling overhead, interrupting the sermon. Kasich was undeterred, noting, “It’s a wonderful, wonderful holiday for our friends in the Jewish community and the Passover.”

The visit probably helped. People complained about Trump. “He’s meshuga,” said Ezra Friedlander, a government and public relations consultant, using a Yiddish word for crazy.

Matt Logos, a model, watched all the hoopla and said he ultimately was glad he became discouraged from backing Trump. “At first he was exciting and I liked his enthusiasm,” Logos said. “But now I’m putting thought into this, and I can see he’d be a disaster.”

What was most important was that Kasich at least got people thinking about him, and in a race where every congressional district vote can make a difference, that matters.

At least Meir ben Haim will remember that Kasich visited his matzo factory. Asked whether he’d vote for Kasich, he said, “Why not?”