Happy Passover!

Matzoh Ball Soup

Sundown this evening marks the beginning of the eight-day celebration of Passover, which celebrates the story of the Jews' exodus from Egypt.  It's a time to relax, to eat and drink, and to refrain from leavened goods, or chametz.  Chametz is anything that is made of grains (wheat, spelt, oats, barley, rye), that has been combined with water and left uncooked for more than 18 minutes.  In Ashkenazi tradition, kitniyot are also forbidden; these include items that can be ground into a coarse meal, such as corn, legumes (peanuts, peas, beans, soy) and rice.  


Mostly everyone is aware of matzoh, which I prefer in its brei'd form: soaked in egg and milk and pan-friend, which can be served savory or sweet.  It's none too appealing on its own, though I've found my goyim friends tend to like it far more than my fellow Jews; I suppose it's a different story when eaten out of necessity.  


Here are some recipes that are Passover-friendly.  While some (such as the charoset) are specific to the Seder meal, there's no reason why they should be relegated to such a setting, as they're delicious in their own right (and that charoset, in particular, would be amazing in yogurt or with oatmeal). 


Recipes for the Seder (and Beyond)

Matzoh Ball Soup. A classic.  Spiking the matzoh balls with seltzer results in some of the best matzoh balls I've had.

I should really start making this stuff year-round

Sephardic-Style Charoset.  Not your typical wine-sogged, apples and walnuts affair, this stuff is irresistible.  It's fiercely demanded at every Passover meal with my family.


Gefilte Fish with Horseradish Cream Sauce.  It might sound crazy to make your own gefilte fish, and I won't really try to argue with that, but the rewards you'll reap with this recipe are substantial.  It's supremely delicious, but if nothing else, give the horseradish cream sauce a try - it's a bit different than your standard Gold's straight from the bottle; which isn't to poo-poo the Gold's of course, I keep that stuff stocked year-round.


Brisket with Red Wine and Prunes: this recipe is awesome for any big gathering, as it benefits from a long, slow cook and can be prepared ahead of time.  It's particularly great for celebrations, since it feels a bit more special than your typical brisket. 


Random Passover-Friendly Recipes for the Remaining Eight Days


Beyond the Seders, there are eights days during which I'll need to feed myself.  As a devout oatmeal-for-breakfast type girl, this requires a bit more creativity on my part. While I will rely on yogurt a good amount for my morning repast, I will definitely be breaking out the quinoa more, as it's one of the few grain-type items that aren't considered chametz.  While these recipes aren't kosher-kosher, they don't contain chametz.  Now I don't keep kosher throughout the year, but I do try to keep chametz out of my diet during Passover.  Call me a hypocrite, that's fine, but I see these eight days more as a commemoration and acknowledgment of my ancestors' past and struggles than anything.  Where kosher variations are available, I've so noted.


Raw Beet Salad with Goat Cheese and Pistachios.  This salad is fucking ridiculous.  It's amazing how good a few simple, healthy ingredients can be.  Don't forget the pistachios, they're the ticket.


Brussels Sprouts with Poached Eggs.  Embarrassing to even include this is a recipe.  It's more of a technique than anything, and one that is absurdly simple.  Omit the bacon to make it kosher.  You can add some warm, roasted walnuts at the end to make it more substantial. 


Butter Poached Fish.  The flavors in this meal belie the ease with which its prepared.  Serve with potatoes instead of noodles. 


Kale Caesar Salad.  No croutons = Passover-friendly.   


Duck with Red Wine Sauce and Cauliflower Two Ways.  Omit the brandy in the sauce and use potato starch in lieu of corn starch to make the red wine sauce Passover-friendly.  Both cauliflower dishes are kosher for Passover and should be made stat in any event because they rock.


Lamb Sausage Patties with Feta, Garlic and Mint. Fast, easy, delicious.  Not kosher, though.

Beef Stew in Red Wine Sauce.  While more of a winter-weather type meal, it wouldn't be unwelcome these days given the slight chill in the air that doesn't seem to want to beat it.  Leave out the bacon to keep it kosher.


Desserts


Sometimes it's better to avoid the Passover-friendly facsimile of chametz-laden desserts and opt for things that were never intended to contain grains, such as ice cream, panna cotta, or pavlovas.  But sometimes you just want something cakey; flourless cakes work great for these purposes; Passover-izing other desserts will have a less than ideal effect on the texture, but it can be overlooked most of the time given the circumstances. A note on vanilla: some extracts contain grain alcohol, which is technically not kosher for passover.  It can either be omitted, or replaced with vanilla sugar, which is artificially flavored, and which is obviously not a match for pure vanilla, but hey, it's only eight days a year.)

This stuff is dangerous, but you'll be sorry if you don't make it

Matzoh Crack.  Just make this.  You won't be sorry.  Your ass may be. 


Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream.  The natural mint flavor is remarkable; far less sharp and aggressive than in commercial mint ice creams.


Frozen Yogurt with Figs and Honey.  Just great.


Buttermilk Panna Cotta.  A blank, tart, delicious canvas for a myriad of toppings.  Fruit is always a good bet on Passover.


Cocoa Brownies.  Replace the flour with five  tablespoons of matzoh cake meal.  The texture will suffer slightly, but it's not too bad.


Tonight is the first of two Seders, the meal at which we tell the story of the Jews' escape from slavery. I will be joining my family in Brooklyn for both. We always attempt to follow the Haggadah and tell the entire story, but by the time all is said an done we've hit the big-ticket items and proceeded to dinner.  Regardless, it's a time to celebrate family, to relax and enjoy the moment, to take it easy and drink a lot of wine.  


I hope you all have wonderful celebrations, wherever and for whatever they may be.


How and what are, or just are, you celebrating this weekend? 

Passover Recipes

With the holiday around the corner (the first seder is on Monday night), I figured I would put all of my Passover recipes in one place.

Wishing you all a happy and healthy whatever it is you're celebrating!

Savories
Matzoh Ball Soup
Sweet and Spicy Charoset
Homemade Gefilte Fish (with horseradish cream, which you should make at some point regardless because it's seriously delicious)
Brisket with Merlot and Prunes
Raw Beet Salad

Sweets
Chocolate and Caramel Covered Matzoh
Cocoa Brownies

Cocoa Brownies

So I was going to tell you about some awesome rugelach. The post is underway, a draft in the works, forthcoming, I promise. But then I made these brownies. And they demand your immediate attention. They're divine, as far as brownies go - so deep and rich that a teeny tiny square will more than suffice to quell your cravings.

Oh, no cravings for brownies, you say? Have a little bite, and let the cravings commence. A thin, crackly top gives way to a fudgy, dense, irreproachably chocolaty interior. The edges are chewy, the insides moist, the whole thing a perfect little package of brownie goodness - no need for a slick of ganache (in my belief a good brownie shouldn't need a ganache-boost) or a sprinkling of powdered sugar atop these bad boys, they're fantastic just as they are.



You see, I'm not really a brownie connoisseur. They're not what I turn towards when my dessert cravings hit. A mere little bite usually sates me, and I can move on to other things. But when my roommate had shoulder surgery a couple of days ago, I knew I needed to provide him with a little something to help the healing. And this kid loves his chocolate, so I immediately scoured the interwebs for brownie recipes. When I saw these brownies, I knew I had hit the jackpot. And I was not wrong - these brownies are, to date, the best I've made. And, since I'm not a huge brownie person, there were no prior brownies with which Dom could compare these, he agreed that these reached levels of brownie awesomeness.

Not only that, but the small amount of flour gives me reason to believe that these can be easily adapted to a passover context - and the fact that they rely solely on cocoa powder for their chocolaty needs means that there's no reading of labels or settling for kosher-for-passover chocolate to thwart your quest for brownie supremacy. Now, I haven't tested this theory out yet, but I'd be willing to bet that swapping the half cup of flour for matzoh cake meal will not mess with these gems all too much. But rest assured that, as the Seders loom on the horizon, such a test is forthcoming, and I will report back, hopefully confirming my hypothesis.

UPDATE: A pan of these brownies, with five tablespoons of matzoh cake meal substituted for the flour have just emerged from my oven, and the texture is a little, well, passover-ish, but they're still pretty good!



Cocoa Brownies

Adapted from Alice Mendrich's Bittersweet via Smitten Kitchen

10 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups sugar
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, cold
1/2 cup all-purpose flour or 5 tablespoons matzoh cake meal (confirmation of success pending - confirmed!)
2/3 cup walnut or pecan pieces (optional, I didn't use but I imagine they'd be awesome in there)

With rack in the lower third of the oven, preheat oven to 325°F. Line bottom and sides of an 8×8-inch square baking pan (note: I used a circular pan because my square pan is 9x9 and I was afraid that the brownies would be too thin, which just meant that there were little scraps leftover after I'd cut them into squares, which, you know, totally did not go to waste) with parchment paper or foil, leaving a bit of an overhang on two sides, which will allow you to lift the baked brownies out of the pan with ease.

Combine butter, sugar, cocoa, and salt in a medium heatproof bowl and set the bowl in a wide skillet of barely simmering water. Stir from time to time until the butter is fully melted and the mixture is shiny and rather smooth and hot enough that you want to remove your finger fairly quickly after dipping it in to test. Remove the bowl from skillet and set aside briefly until the mixture is warm, not hot. (As Deb notes, don't be taken aback by the texture at this point in the process, though it looks rough, that is totally fine).

Stir in the vanilla with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula. Add the eggs one at a time, stirring vigorously after each one to combine. When the batter looks thick, shiny, and well blended, add the flour and stir to combine until you cannot see it any longer, then beat vigorously for 40 strokes with the wooden spoon or rubber spatula. Stir in the nuts, if using. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. It will be rather thick, but just spread it around with your spatula so that it's even.

Bake until a toothpick plunged into the center emerges slightly moist with batter, about 20 to 25 minutes. Note that I let mine go a little bit past the "emerges slightly moist with batter" stage, but to no ill-effect. Let cool completely on a rack, or do as Deb suggests and throw them in the icebox for a little while to get them to really cool and facilitate easy cutting.

Lift up the ends of the parchment or foil liner, and transfer the brownies to a cutting board. Cut into squares with a very sharp knife, as big or small as you desire. Enjoy!

Actually Delicious Charoset

Every passover, there are, without exception, at least seven items that must be served as part of the Seder meal formalities. Aside from the matzoh, the other six appear on the seder plate, each representing a different aspect of the Jews' escape from persecution and slavery in Egypt. For the most part, these items are not particularly delicious - some are downright inedible (and not meant to be eaten, obviously), and that's alright. But charoset has the potential to be something delicious, and something that you'll find yourself craving throughout the year.

Charoset is a sweet, sticky mess of nuts and apple - at least the charoset of my past was. The charoset of all of my future seders, however, will be no such thing, because this recipe has changed everything I knew about charoset. Typically charoset is eaten as part of the seder, spread on matzoh to symbolize the mortar on the bricks that our ancestors were forced to use before their exodus; then it usually sits there, neglected. Not this charoset though, huge piles of the jewel-colored mixture adorned the plate of each of my seder guests last year, and I found it impossible to reach into the fridge without sticking a spoon into the leftovers for as long as they lasted (not long).

This charoset recipe features flavors and spices often associated with Sephardic Jews. Since the ancestral beginnings of the subset were largely in the Middle East, dates, figs and cinnamon often find their way into Sephardic Jewish dishes, with flavors oftne reminiscent of Moroccan cuisine. It is leaps and bounds better than any apple-spiked charoset I've tasted before. The fruit and toasted nuts provide wonderful contrast in texture, the sweetness of the dates and apricots mellowed and contrasted so perfectly by the toasted nuttiness of the walnuts. The spices provide warmth and depth, and the lingering smell of ginger soothes you as it makes its way into your mouth. The sweet passover wine, nearly unbearable in its unadulterated state, is used sparingly, providing just enough liquid to bond it all together and disperse the flavors, while mellowing out what the potential brashness of the ginger and cayenne.



Charoset
from Gourmet, April 1993; recipe also here

This mixture may seem a bit spicy at first, but it mellows out with time. I would plan on making this at least a few hours ahead, to give the charoset a chance to come together and allow the flavors to marry.

2/3 cup dried Mission figs (6 oz)
2/3 cup dried apricots (6 oz)
1/3 cup pitted dates (4 oz)
1 1/3 cups walnuts (4 oz), finely chopped
1/4 cup sweet red wine such as Manischewitz Extra Heavy Malaga, kosher for passover
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the walnuts on a baking sheet and toast for about 8 minutes, checking often and stirring around pan as necessary to ensure that they don't burn. Allow nuts to cool.

Finely chop the figs, apricots and dates, then transfer to a bowl and stir in walnuts and wine. Sprinkle spices evenly over mixture and stir until combined well.

Can be prepared 3 days ahead.

Gefilte Fish with Horseradish Cream

At the Passover Seder table growing up, I always had to watch with envious eyes as my brother took supreme pleasure in eating piece (glob?) after piece of gefilte fish. I just had to sit there and watch, I wasn't able to eat it because I was still allergic to pretty much every little seemingly harmless thing in the vast ocean.

Jealousy is really the only explanation I can come up with as to why I always coveted gefilte fish. It was not its visual appeal - that's for sure.

It's really quite an unseemly thing - a grey, pallid mass of congealed fish. It emerges from its jar coated in a gelatinous goo. This jar also contains little carrot discs, as if to assure you that the goo can indeed provide a welcoming home to things that were once real, living things. And don't think that I'm doing gefilte fish a disservice by describing it as such - there's no denying it's instantaneous ick factor.

Once plated gefilte fish is not nearly as off-putting, but if you've seen where it comes from, it's a tougher pill to swallow. The jar, from whence it was fished in all its gooey glory, is a bit hard to get past. Yet, in spite of all of this, likely more than enough to scare off most any right-minded kid, I wanted nothing more than to be able to enjoy gefilte fish - or at least to be able to try it, and hate it, and then make fun of my brother for liking it with the ammunition to back it up.

But no, I just had to sit there - eating my hard-boiled eggs covered in heaping scoops of horseradish, as if it were some sort of substitute, lest my entire face swell up - lest I turn into a living reminder of the plague of boils set forth on the Egyptians. And that's not what Passover's about! It's about relaxing, and celebrating our freedom and drinking until you can't stand up from your oh-so-reclined position (not to mention eating tons and tons of chocolate-covered matzoh), not relishing the ills that were cast upon our adversaries - Jews aren't into that kind of schadenfreude.

As I've discussed before, I've outgrown this fish allergy (though less so the salmon, though I trudge on anyway, trying to will it out of my system), and when I finally had the chance to taste gefilte fish, I actually really liked it. Why, precisely, I couldn't tell you - probably the fact that it's pleasantly fishy, soft and salty, and a perfect vehicle for tongue-numbing quantities of Gold's horseradish. I was finally able to take joy in what my brother had been able to enjoy his entire life, though to his chagrin, there was now another mouth at the table with whom he'd have to share.

When I set out to prepare my first Seder last year, I wanted to go all-out. I tend to go all-out with most things cooking, especially when I'm cooking for others, and I wanted my first Seder to be a smash-hit. I suspect that it was - I think the text messages I get from my blond-haired and blue-eyed friend telling me that she's having a hankering for the brisket I made is a pretty good indicator of success, if I do say so myself.

With a couple of non-Jews in attendance at the Seder, I wanted to make sure that all the dishes were executed in order to maximize their potential, lest my fear that they'd forever be turned off from Jewish food be realized. I saw gefilte fish as the biggest hurdle - as you can imagine it's not really the easiest thing to sell: Fish cakes! Fish dumplings! Fish blobs - from a jar! A jar full of gelatinous goo!

Since I was a third-year law student (read: I had a significant amount of time on my hands), I figured I'd try my hand at homemade gefilte fish, since steamed fresh fish dumplings seems a bit (though just a bit) of an easier sell than their goo-laden brethren.

And though the gefilte fish stunk up my house something serious, it was an undeniable success. I'm still counting my lucky stars that I had a roommate easy-going and understanding enough to deal with the smell of steaming fish for days (let me tell you - steamed fish smell is the gift that keeps on giving), without so much of a peep of complaint (and a shiksa, no less!!).

The gefilte fish was so much fresher, the texture undeniably better than anything I'd had in the past - there was much more than the hint of fishiness present to make you wise to that fact that what you were eating had once swam in the sea. The horseradish cream lends a sophisticated air to the dish; its flavor, at once spicy and tangy, really heightens the flavors of the fish, serving as a lovely contrast to the smokiness of the salmon and cutting through the richness characteristic of many Passover dishes, in all of their egg-laden glory. The gefilte fish itself had better depth of flavor than the jarred variety, owing to the fresh carrots, onions, scallions and two types of fish, and the fact that it was steamed just the day before, and with no goo of which to speak.



Homemade Gefilte Fish with Horseradish Cream
Adapted from Bon Appétit April 2002

This is an undeniably laborious recipe - albeit one that yields results that kick jarred gefilte fish's ass. However, I didn't have a food processor and decided not to buy one for the gefilte-fish-making occasion, so I found myself chopping...and chopping...and chopping fish until it was in a consistency akin to what would've been realized in the food processor. I'd imagine that this greatly reduces the time commitment of this endeavor. Whether this recipe is worth it is completely up to you, but one thing I think is certain is that this recipe will not leave you reaching for the jar.

And yes, this recipe and the next couple I'll be sharing are from last year, but I never got around to sharing them then, and they became less and less timely as the year progressed, and they dropped by the wayside. But now, with Passover creeping up on us, I again have an opportunity to share them!

Gefilte Fish

3/4 cup peeled carrots, thinly sliced
1/4 cup matzo meal
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped green onions
4 large eggs
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 1/2 pounds mild white fish fillets (such as sole or flounder), cut into small pieces
2 cups chopped smoked salmon
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 large cabbage, separated into leaves

Cook carrots in pan of boiling salted water until very tender, about 8 minutes. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup cooking water in small bowl. Stir matzoh meal into water; let stand 10 minutes to allow maximum saturation. Place carrots in food processor. Heat olive oil in heavy medium skillet over medium-low heat. Add onion and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes. Add green onions and stir 1 minute. Add onion mixture to carrots in food processor. Add the matzo meal mixture and blend until mixture is pureed and smooth. Using electric mixer, beat 3 eggs and lemon juice in large bowl until foamy and slightly thickened, about 4 minutes. Stir in mixture from processor to the egg-lemon bowl; do not bother cleaning the processor bowl.

Blend fish fillets, smoked fish, salt, and pepper in same processor bowl until fish is finely chopped. Add remaining egg and blend to coarse paste. Add fish mixture to matzo meal mixture and mix thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate until very cold, about 2 hours.

Line large baking sheet with waxed or parchment paper. Using wet hands, shape 1/4 cup fish mixture for each dumpling into an egg-shaped oval. Place on prepared sheet. Cover with waxed paper and chill while preparing cabbage and steamer.

Set vegetable steamer rack in large pot. Fill pot with enough water to meet, but not cover, the bottom of the rack. Line rack with cabbage leaves. Arrange 8 fish dumplings on leaves; cover with additional cabbage. Bring water to boil. Cover pot and steam dumplings until cooked through and firm to touch, about 25 minutes. Transfer upper cabbage leaves to platter. Top with cooked dumplings. Cover with bottom cabbage leaves. Steam remaining dumplings in additional cabbage leaves in 2 more batches. Cover and refrigerate gefilte fish until cold, at least 6 hours. (Can be prepared 2 days ahead. Keep refrigerated.)

Horseradish Cream

This sauce is fantastic - I found myself slicking it on anything and everything I could validate being a good vehicle for the days following my Seder, and I have a feeling you will as well. Even if you don't make the gefilte fish yourself, give the sauce a whirl - it's a great change of pace from the jarred stuff.

2 garlic cloves
1/4 cup prepared white horseradish (or more, depending on your taste - I love horseradish and used, if I recall correctly, a bit more)
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 cup mayonnaise

Mince garlic and place in a bowl. Mix in the lemon juice and horseradish until combined. Gradually add in the mayonnaise, whisking to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste, cover, chill and refrigerate until ready to serve. (Can be made one day ahead. Keep refrigerated.)

Serve horseradish cream alongside gefilte fish, toss aside the jar, and enjoy!

If You're Anything Like Me

If you are anything like me, you probably bought way, way too much matzoh for Passover this year, as you do every year. If you’re also anything like me, you don’t really even like matzoh all that much. If you’re nothing like me, then I suggest you go to the store right now and buy up whatever matzoh might still be hanging around the shelves on super sale, because what follows is pure deliciousness.

I usually use Passover as an excuse to eat a pretty piss-poor diet for a week. Yes, there will be a salad in there every once in a while, but for the most part, it’s all eggs, meat, potatoes; cholesterol, fat and sodium. It’s also a time to play around with some desserts. I’ve said it before: I’m not the biggest dessert person out there. Ice cream, yes please, any day. Cakes, eh. But once a challenge is posed to make something deliciously sinful without flour, well that’s when it gets fun.




The following recipe has everything you’d possibly want in a real treat. It is crunchy, crackly, sweet and salty. But beyond all that, it is addictively amazing. It’s incredibly easy, takes no real effort, and leaves you with an incredible amount of chocolate-caramel covered matzoh. I found myself pawning it off on friends, who were, to say the least, not displeased with the copious amounts of chocolate covered matzoh that had been forced upon them.

Everything in this candy works incredibly well together. I can usually eschew chocolate rather easily, and caramel is often too sweet for my blood, but this, this I could not physically pass without reaching in for some more. But I would only take little, teensy pieces, because, you know, it’s not bad for you that way. Or at least that’s what this candy required I convince myself was true.

The chocolate covered matzoh you can buy pre-made usually tastes pretty bad. The matzoh is still matzoh, bland, flavorless and always almost stale. Simply putting chocolate above something that doesn’t really taste too good to begin with isn’t going to all of a sudden make it taste amazingly. But add a half-pound of butter, an equal amount of sugar, nuts and some salt, it’s a whole new ballgame. The caramelization moves the matzoh into wow-territory, giving it a real bite and crunch, well beyond the feeble excuse for crispiness with which it is usually endowed. By the time Passover was over, I had made about four batches of this stuff, and I am impressed with my self-restraint in refusing to make any more since the holiday has ended.



David Lebovitz’s Chocolate-Caramel Covered Matzoh
Recipe also here

The matzoh burned for me at 375 degrees, so I started my oven at 350 and lowered it if I caught it starting to get too dark, which was almost each time. I really enjoyed stowing these in the fridge and eating them cold.

4-6 sheets plain, unsalted matzoh
1 cup unsalted butter, cut in chunks
1 cup packed light brown sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla extract (NOTE: if you happen to make this for Passover next year, be advised that not everyone considers vanilla to be Kosher for Passover. Since the vanilla ferments in the production of extract, it poses a potential problem for this holiday usage)
Sea salt
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips (Note: if making for Passover, make sure that your chocolate doesn't have corn syrup in it)
Toasted, chopped pecans

1. Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil, ensuring that the sheet is completely covered and the foil is wrapped around the edges of the pan. Place a sheet of parchment paper over the foil. (NOTE: I forgot to use parchment every time I made the recipe; oops! The foil only stuck once to a teensy part of the matzoh, so I didn’t cry over the piece I threw away)
2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees
3. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, heat the butter and sugar until the butter is melted, stirring frequently until the mixture begins to boil. Allow the mixture to boil for about three minutes, stirring constantly.
4. Remove caramel from heat and add salt and vanilla. Pour the caramel over the matzoh and spread evenly to coat using a heatproof spatula.
5. Put pan in the oven and reduce the heat to 350 degrees. Bake for 15 minutes. If it starts to burn, remove the pan, lower the heat to 325 and then replace the pan.
6. Remove from oven after 15 minutes and immediately cover with chocolate chips. Let stand 5 minutes, then spread the chocolate over the matzoh with a spatula.
7. Sprinkle with sea salt, pecans, or whatever else you so desire.
8. Let cool completely before breaking into pieces. Store in an airtight container. I like mine in the fridge.

A Bowl of Nostalgia

Though I still have my day in Napa to document, I am going to take a quick hiatus from the NorCal posts and turn to Passover. I have a slew of leavening-free recipes and photos to share with you, and I wanted to share at least one before the holiday is technically over.

Matzoh ball soup is one of the few items of traditional Jewish food that have really caught on in North America. It’s ubiquitous and recognizable to people all over, regardless of how many Jews they actually know. Kreplach? Kugel? Tsimmes? If you don’t have Jewish friends, it’s likely that you haven’t seen, or even heard of this stuff, but matzoh ball soup has made a name for itself, and deservedly so.

Though much Jewish food gets a bad rap, there is no denying that there is a place for matzoh balls in almost everyone’s heart. If you’re sick, homesick, or in any way feeling nostalgic, it’s pretty likely that a steamy bowl of matzoh ball soup will relieve your aching heart.

I spoke with my Grandmother last weekend about the Seder I was hosting. She gave me a few words of wisdom about matzoh balls, namely that I should never trust the recipe on the back of the matzoh meal container, since it calls for far too few eggs. And seltzer, seltzer is the key to incredibly light matzoh balls.



I’ve made matzoh balls before, and I’ve used seltzer in making them, but they haven’t been stellar. They’ve been good, but I want that ethereal lightness and lingering salty taste that the matzoh balls of my youth possessed. There’s a pretty standard formula to matzoh balls: 2:1 ratio of matzoh meal to fat and seltzer. Then a couple of eggs, some salt and pepper and you’ve got yourself some matzoh balls. It’s really that simple.

Since the back of my matzoh meal box didn’t even have a recipe, I turned to a trusted source, where I found a recipe that looked pretty much like the one I used last year to some success.

But then I stumbled upon a recipe from Mark Bittman from the Best Recipes in the World. He suggests that, for incredibly light matzoh balls, to beat the egg whites until they form soft peaks and mix them in after all of the other ingredients were combined. Soft peaks mean that there are a lot of little air bubbles in the egg whites from the beating, which is what makes for lightness. It made logical sense, so I gave it a go.



I combined the two techniques and was rewarded with fluffy, light, gorgeous balls of deliciousness that managed to sit in the soup, soaking up just enough of its salty flavor, without becoming a sponge and sucking the bowl dry. The matzoh balls were light, tasty, and didn’t weigh the stomach down, nor did they fill you up before the brisket even made it to the table.

This is a classic recipe that is much more simple than you’d imagine it to be. So often we fear replicating the dishes of our youth, worried that the products will fall so far short of those our family miraculously composed all those years ago. Though you might need a recipe, at least at first, you’ll make it all your own, and you’ll be able to bring your love to the tradition that graves your table at holidays and year round. Yours might not be as great as Bubbie’s the first time you make them, but believe me, you’ll get there, or at least close to there. Eventually.


Matzoh Ball Soup

This classic recipe is something that I’m convinced everyone should attempt making at some point. It’s so simple, almost to the point of foolproof, really. This recipe produces super light matzoh balls, if you prefer a smaller, more leaden type matzoh ball (a “sinker”), then you’re probably best served to look elsewhere, thank you very much. The matzoh balls are served in a simple stock, with a few carrots and sprigs of dill thrown in for good measure. It’s a great recipe to have in your arsenal, be it Passover or not, be you Jewish or not.



The Stock

As far as the chicken soup goes, it’s just a basic stock. There are infinite interpretations and combinations, but what I did was this: I threw some chicken backs, necks and thighs into a large pot, added some vegetables (in this case carrots, parsnips, leek tops, a few cloves of garlic (skin removed) and two small onions, but you can use any combination you desire) and a few sprigs of thyme, a few peppercorns, some parsley and a bay leaf. After the pot has been assembled, the directions are the same, no matter what’s inside:

Fill the pot with water until the chicken and vegetables are just covered (for me, probably around 3-4 quarts of water). Bring the water to a boil. After about 20 minutes you’ll see scum forming at the top, skim that off and discard. Once skimmed, lower the heat so that the liquid is at a simmer. Cover and let simmer for about 2-4 hours. Drain the mixture through a sieve or colander back into a storage container or the pot. Discard the vegetables, herbs and chicken parts (I saved the thighs and shredded them up into the soup before I served it). Chill the stock in the fridge overnight. Before reheating, remove the layer of fat that has formed at the top of the container and throw that away.

The Matzoh Balls

A mish-mach of recipes from Smitten Kitchen and Mark Bittman, How to Cook Everything

1 cup matzoh meal
4 eggs, separated
4 T rendered chicken fat or vegetable oil
¼ c. grated onion
2 teaspoons salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
4 tablespoons seltzer

Separate the eggs, placing the yolks in a medium-sized bowl and setting aside the whites in a large bowl. Mix the remaining ingredients together with the yolks. Set mixture aside. With an electric mixer, beat the eggs until soft peaks form. You can test for soft peaks by stopping the mixer and lifting it out of the eggs. Two small peaks will form where the mixer has been lifted out and the tips will tip over, resembling an ocean wave. Those are soft peaks. Take the egg whites and spoon them into the bowl with the matzoh meal mixture. Gently fold in the whites until combined. Try your best to remove any clumps of matzoh meal in the mixture, since those will probably stay hard throughout cooking, which is not what you want. Be gentle though, since you want to preserve those tiny air bubbles in the egg whites to keep your matzoh balls light. Once incorporated, cover the mixture and place in the refrigerator for at least one hour, up to overnight.

Heat a large pot of salted water to a boil. Remove the mixture from the fridge. Using very wet hands, gently form the mixture into balls about one inch in diameter.




After forming each ball, immediately ease it into the boiling water. Once all the matzoh balls are in, lower the heat to a simmer. Cover and let simmer for about 35-40 minutes.

While the matzoh balls are cooking, heat the stock up over low heat. If you’d like, peel and finely chop some carrots and place into the heating stock. About 10-15 minutes of cooking time for the carrots should ensure they get soft without turning to mush.

Place a couple of matzoh balls in each bowl of soup. Ladle some of the stock over the matzoh balls, garnish with some fresh-snipped dill and parsley, and serve immediately.

Serves about 8 people generously