Matzoh Ball Soup

This is a dish that is equal parts taste and memory.  

I was certain that I broke all kinds of ancient family traditions when I poured the Swanson's Low Sodium Chicken broth into a Revere Ware pot, the same kind of pot G'ma used.  I laughed as I thought of my paternal grandmother tsk-tsk-ing while G'ma and her mom were being totally jealous that the whole process took about 11 seconds instead of all day.  

It seemed thin, until I added the matzoh balls.  Suddenly, it became the perfect background, helping the main attraction slide right down.

The matzoh balls from the Manischewitz package lived up to the rave reviews from Big Cuter - They're as good as the ones from Max's .  High praise, indeed, likening them to comfort food and growing boy food and really the very best matzoh balls we've ever eaten.

Mine were not as big as I remember the ones from his youth, but they were every bit as tasty as those we can imagine, if we close our eyes and take a moment.

Along the way - while things were chilling then simmering -  I thought of reaching out to family and friends for suggestions.  I thought about it, but trusted the process (can you tell that TBG is watching The Bachelor again?) and I was rewarded.  

This meal took about 3 minutes to prepare. We both enjoyed every slurp spoonful. That's a win in my book.

It also left me longing for matzoh with butter and salt... and the kitchens I grew up in, underfoot but adored, sneaking just a taste, tateleh, my grandmothers enjoying my presence, expecting nothing and sharing grown up conversations that I didn't understand.  Everything smelled so good.  My heart was happy then and it is happy now.  These memories have been with me for a long time.

And so will these matzoh balls.

I forgot about the after effects of over indulgence, about the fact that the damn things keep expanding - from the 1" diameter balls I put into the boiling water, to the 3" beauties I took out and put into the soup, all 10 of which grew a bit more ..... until we just had to start eating them..... and which are continuing to expand..... exponentially, it feels seems, somewhere along my digestive tract.

Perhaps I shouldn't have dismissed crossing Tradition so lightly.