Saying No to a Bar Mitzvah, and the Perfect Matzo Ball
Get to know a delicious Jewish tradition by digging into a comforting bowl of matzo ball soup full of aromatics, naturally sweet ingredients, and satisfying matzo balls
My relationship with my Jewish faith is complicated, to say the least. Complicated in the sense that I don’t know which is better, my mom’s matzo ball soup, or her apple cake. Of course, there are more complications than that. From the time I took my first breath I have been questioning my religion. My dad was raised in Algiers, Algeria in a Muslim environment, while my mom was raised Jewish in Poughkeepsie, New York. My family fostered an environment where questioning and critical thought was encouraged and even necessary. Growing up Jewish culturally, while also dabbling in Islam (mostly when it involved a whole-roasted lamb on Eid), forced me to dig deep into myself and the world around me to understand what I believe and value. Experiencing antisemitism from my peers in school, combined with an aversion to dogma, which seemed inseparable from religion, pushed me far from Judaism in my younger years. I avoided being Bar Mitzvahed (a teenage boy’s right of passage into Judaism) because frankly I didn’t, and still don’t, believe in most of the Old Testament. Also, I couldn’t bear the idea of pretending to believe in something, standing up in front of a congregation to declare it, and then getting a bunch of money for it while costing my parents thousands. I might have been a rebel without a cause, but in my view, that was one of the first values-based decisions I made.
As I grew older, I began to engage with my religion and culture again, and came to the understanding of religion as systems and tools I can selectively apply to improve my life. As humans, understanding who we are and what we stand for can be important, especially in times of hardship. For me, food and cooking is one of the most powerful mediums to connect with who I am and express myself. As I help (or just watch) my mom cooking her grandma’s apple cake, or press out some aghroum (a Kabyle bread) with my dad, I’m connecting with who I am. The delicious food that nourishes and strengthens me has also fueled generations before me. This Saturday is the beginning of Passover, and I’d like to share my mom Sara Katz-Imadali’s recipe for matzo ball soup. It incorporates my family and other Jewish families’ knowledge, as well as the stories that accompany this wildly comforting dish.
Passover is a Jewish holiday that marks the exodus of Jews from slavery in Egypt. The Old Testament tells a story in Exodus of how God pushes Moses to confront Pharoah (the ruler of Egypt) to free the Jews from slavery. God flexes his power by inflicting a series of ten plagues on the Egyptian people, culminating in the death of every first born son and cattle of the Egyptians. Pretty gnarly right? Surprisingly, those stories never ruined my appetite. The pull of matzo ball soup was too strong and quickly distracted me.
Sitting at a table for more than 30 minutes without eating at thirteen years old is brutal. There’s often a dichotomy between the people at the table who have patience for the stories and traditions, and those who just want to eat. I’m in the want-to-eat camp. Sitting and hearing about how we should be present and think about the pain our ancestors went through just doesn’t have the same appeal as some sweet and savory slow-cooked brisket and a piping hot bowl of matzo ball soup. During the Passover Seder (literally order or arrangement), we down four cups of wine, two of which are drained before even digging into the meal. The wine was supposed to be reserved for the adults, but often the teenagers would join in on the festivities. Sometimes, teens would get a bit too fucked up and end up in the bathroom for the rest of the night. But hey, it’s better that kids learn lessons on diminishing returns in an environment where they can receive care for their mistakes (I’m sure I’ll be a great dad someday).
After progressing through most of the Seder, the meal begins. By that point, a couple cups of wine are hitting your system on an almost empty stomach (you’ve only eaten some bites of matzo, and a few other assorted elements core to the Seder). The first real thing that comes out onto the table is a bowl of matzo ball soup. The chicken-and-aromatic-packed broth, chunks of sweet carrot, and a tender yet substantive matzo ball (or two) come together into a clean dish that eclipses everything else. I’d often get seconds or even third servings of matzo ball soup due to a combination of my hunger and the soup’s deliciousness, spoiling my appetite for the rest of the meal.
You too can ruin your appetite with my mom’s matzo ball soup. My mom, Sara Katz-Imadali, and I will team up to walk you through the preparation of the soup and share family stories. We will make the components that make up matzo ball soup, but we won’t be eating them on Wednesday. Matzo ball soup must be prepared at least one day ahead of time, so you’ll be able to dig in the following day. Make sure to bring something to eat for dinner.
RSVP to prepare Mom’s matzo ball soup Wednesday March 31st at 6pm. Upon RSVP you’ll receive Zoom meeting details.
Recipe: Mom’s Matzo Ball Soup
Read more on why and how this dish works in my Notes on Mom’s Matzo Ball Soup