*{Matzah in Hebrew pronunciation.
Matzo is Yiddish}
The commandment to
eat Matzo* to the exclusion of other bready/crackery/pastry thingies during the
eight days of Passover divides the Jewish people into those who love it and
those who suffer through it.
I’m decidedly on
the side of the matzo lovers. In fact, I eat it all year round, which is
actually a defiance of the original intended commandment. We are supposed to experience
the difference that befell our
ancestors during their exodos from Egypt. So if you eat matzo every day, how is
Passover time different from all other times?
But I LOVE matzo,
so sue me.
Matzo tastes like
pure wheat. If you like wheat, you’ll appreciate the plainness of this subtle
but fortifying taste. It isn’t mixed with any other ingredients like salt,
sugar, fats or dairy. It’s a lot of flour and very little water mixed, pounded
rolled and baked quickly into thin sheets. Glorious.
But here I am
about to mix it with other things for those who want to do something with
leftover matzo. The only reason you have any left over is because you didn’t
eat the whole box plain. I take pity on you, and offer my mother’s Matzo Brei,(Yiddish
for “fried matzo”) the savory version:
4 eggs, beaten
2 ½ cup milk, mixed into the eggs
A sprinkle of salt, a dash of pepper, a ½ t. of onion powder
mixed in
4 matzo broken into small pieces
1 cup grated mild cheese
Mix all the above
and let it soak together for about an hour.
In a large frying
pan that has a lid, melt 2 T. butter, add the Matzo mixture and spread evenly.
On the lowest possible flame let is
cook slowly, covered, for 45 minutes.
That’s it. No
turning, no fuss.
(Another version
skips the cheese, pepper and onion powder and adds vanilla instead, then top
with cinnamon sugar when serving. But I swear by the savory one as a full
dinner in a pan, with a side of green salad.)
This serves two,
and can be multiplied as needed, depending on the size of the pan. My favorite
comfort food, not only on Passover.
