December 8, 2012 § Leave a comment
The first time I saw a matzo ball was when I moved to Brooklyn 11 years ago, at age 23. I was intrigued by the pale color and the little pool of broth it rested in, with bitty flecks of carrot and onion. I did not want to eat it. Growing up in Maine I had zero exposure to Jewish food. Not that there isn’t Jewish food served in Maine, it just wasn’t part of my family’s rotation. If you’re eager to get to the recipe you can scroll to the bottom of this post.
A year later, I was in love with a guy whose father’s family was Jewish. He fell ill with a nasty East-Coast head cold and asked for Matzo Ball Soup. I wanted him to feel better, but I was clueless. “My mom makes it, and she’s a goy,” he joked. “You can make it,” He…
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