Matzo Ball Soup

Last night was the first night of Passover. I don't usually celebrate religious holidays in any formal way. It goes against the grain for me to set aside specific times and places for reverence and ritual. I want to see everything as sacred, always. But I felt the need to commemorate it somehow, so I asked myself what kind of food signified freedom to me. I realized that the way I eat every day is all about freedom. It expresses my values and my whims, and carries an equal mix of responsibility and choice.

It was a lovely insight, but it didn't help me along in choosing what to eat for dinner. I ended up going to Whole Foods and buying some matzo ball soup. I love matzo ball soup, and theirs is a respectable version of what I ate while I was growing up. When I was a kid I used to eat my chicken soup packed with egg noodles, and also matzo balls. (Like most kids, I was partial to white, starchy foods.) Both of my grandmothers made chicken soup: different versions, both fondly remembered.