It's Passover, and who
doesn’t love matzo ball soup? It’s the staple of every Jewish holiday, and a
delicacy in both delicatessens and high-end restaurants. Jewish mothers swear
by its healing powers and the “hard” vs “soft” matzo ball debate has raged for
centuries.
If you grew up in a Jewish household or have Jewish friends, you most likely have a relationship with the dish. Even our favorite Italian restaurant in St. Louis has the soup on their menu.
It’s a simple dish in theory; matzo meal, eggs, and oil to make the dough and roll into balls. Chicken soup to cook them with, and maybe carrots, celery, and a little onion and seasoning. But….the nuances of each recipe can make or break the taste.
My Bubbie (Yiddish for
Grandma) used schmaltz or chicken fat in her matzo balls and made the soup from
scratch. I probably didn’t appreciate the depth of flavor that the fat added to
the soup at such a young age, but I remember it being delicious.
In later years, my mom and aunt
would either make the matzo balls and buy the broth, or order it from the
grocery store. It always tasted the best on Passover because, after sitting
through and hour and a half seder (Passover service), the soup was usually the
first course eaten.
I love most food homemade,
but I have to confess, I have always used a packaged soup mix for my matzo
balls and added a few tweaks. The matzo balls were light and fluffy and the
broth was rich and flavorful. My kids loved it growing up, and I kind of prefer
it to homemade, even now. But the first time I made it, I rolled the balls into
golf ball size before I cooked them. I didn’t realize that they would “grow” in
the boiling broth and ended up with six-inch diameter meteors.
However, what I remember most about matzo balls was the
song. My father was always the jokester, and every Passover he would make me,
my brother, and my cousins sing the “Matzo Ball Song” before he would let us
eat dinner. It was a silly song, but it became such a big part of our family
tradition, that all new family members had to participate. My husband, my
sister-in-law, my kids; they all had to sing for their supper too.
I think Dad sized up our potential spouses by their willingness to participate.
Years after he passed away,
my mom came to visit us on Passover. Since our close friends include us every
year in their family and friends seder, my mom was excited to celebrate.
The meal was beginning, and
some friends went into the kitchen to help. Just as mom was telling the group about
the matzo ball song, one of the guests spilled an entire bowl of matzo ball soup
he was serving directly onto my mother’s head. She was fine; no burns or
injuries, but she swears it was Dad letting her know he was watching.
Any time I’m ready to enjoy a bowl of the
soup, the tune pops back into my head with a picture of my Dad, like a band
director, making us all sing along:
“I wanna be a matzo ball,
And swim in the middle of the
chicken soup.
And float down on a noodle,
Right to the bottom of the whole
caboodle.
And when I’m tired and I get
kinda hungry,
I eat me a matzo while I’m
floating on my tummy.
I wanna be a matzo ball,
And swim home for Pesach
(Passover)”
Happy Holiday to all!!
This year, at our virtual Zoom seder, I sang the song to my granddaughters, hoping they will sing the silly song too.
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