Skip to main content

וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח.

 Passover is all about using an ancient text, the Haggadah to connect to both long-ago history and to our own family history.

For me, Passover also has another ancient text.


This is my mother's notebook full of Passover recipes. When I was a kid the cover was intact. This notebook came out with the Passover dishes each year.

I looked through it the other day and I see that my mother started this collection of recipes in Halifax when she was newlywed. My mother learned very quickly that, unlike my mother's mother, the ladies of Halifax were excellent cooks. My mother asked these excellent cooks to share their recipes.

I never met Mrs. Pascal but I have intimate knowledge of her Passover sponge cake.


 There are recipes that don't think anyone makes anymore.


My father sometimes made chremslach but he always made them dairy and with sweet wine.

My mother made this wine cake year after year.

I do not. I think that this cake tastes vaguely like sweat socks. My mother adored this cake and loved the woman who gave her the recipe. If I am feeling very sentimental another year I may have the need to make this cake.

My mother often was told recipes during a phone conversation. My mother probably asked Mildred Jacobs for this recipe a couple of times.


The Tagamet paper came our way from Fred Cohen the pharmacist.  My mother kept the pads he gave her by the phone. Shopping lists, recipes, and notes from phone calls all were written on pads advertising various prescription drugs.

This chocolate cake came by way of Mildred's religious cousin who didn't eat ge-brochts, dampened matza during Passover. We ate ge-brochts, but we loved this no ge-brochts cake. I make it every year.

I made it yesterday but in a rectangular baking pan and not a tube pan. If you bake it in a rectangular baking pan this cake is brownies.

Here are Mrs. Katz's matza balls. Before my mother got this recipe my mother's matza balls were disappointing.


After my mother began to use this recipe her matza balls were consistently excellent.

After my mother died I inherited this now falling apart blue machberet. My mother is no longer alive. None of the fine cooks who appear in this machberet is alive.  This tattered collection of recipes is part of my retelling of the Passover story.

מִצְוָה עָלֵינוּ לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרָיִם. וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח.
 It is a commandment upon us to tell the story of the exodus from Egypt. And anyone who adds [and spends extra time] in telling the story of the exodus from Egypt, behold he is praiseworthy.




Comments

  1. What a beautiful and interesting post, Sarah! Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

I love hearing from my readers. I moderate comments to weed out bots.It may take a little while for your comment to appear.

Popular posts from this blog

מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים

  וְנֶאֱמָן אַתָּה לְהַחֲיוֹת מֵתִים: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים   You are faithful to restore the dead to life. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Resurrector of the dead. That particular line is recited at every single prayer service every day three times a day, unless you use a Reform or Reconstructionist prayer book . In those liturgies instead of praising God for resurrecting the dead God is praised for  giving life to all.  I am enough of a modern woman, a modern thinker, to not actually believe in the actual resurrection of the dead. I don't actually expect all of the residents of the Workmen's Circle section of  Mount Hebron cemetery in Queens to get up and get back to work at their sewing machines. I don't expect the young children buried here or  the babies buried here to one day get up and frolic. Yet, every single time I get up to lead services I say those words about the reanimating of the dead with every fiber of my being. Yesterday, I e...

Connecting with the past

A few months ago I had a craving for my father’s chicken fricassee.  If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it.    My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid.  I assumed that the dish was an invention of my father’s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed.   A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I can’t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee  and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...

Food friday - your grandmother's food processor

My grandmother bought my mother this wooden bowl and a chopping knife, known in Yiddish as a hock-messer, soon after my parents got married. Yes, she also got them a dairy set as well. these wooden bowls and chopping knives were a big part of food prep when I was growing up. meatloaf and meat balls were mixed in this bowl. Chopped liver was made in this bowl as well. Sundays we often made chicken salad for lunch made out of chicken left over from Shabbat chopped with vegetables and mayo. That too, was made in this bowl. When I was in college my parents got their first food processor and the chopping bowls were not used as much. Several years ago, my father asked if i would like the bowls and the hock-messers. I was happy to have them. I like the sheer physicality of chopping up a big bowl of stuff into teeny pieces. While the wooden bowls have stood up well to the years of use, the hock-messers had not. The bladed which were bolted into their handles, wobbled. The blades wouldn't ...