By Ozzie Nogg , Special to JTNews
Food blogger Debby Koenig (Words to Eat By) confesses that though she hates Passover with its ‘stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth matzoh, crumbs-all-over-your-shirtfront matzoh, halt-all-intestinal-activity matzoh,’ she considers the ‘only saving grace of this cardboardy so-called food is that it’s the main ingredient in matzoh brei.’ Fried matzoh. I sympathize with Ms. Koenig’s position, though a cardboardy piece of matzoh slathered with unsalted butter is one of my all-time, anytime favorites.
Just as cooks at Purim spar over Hamantaschen dough (cookie vs. yeast) and filling (sweet vs. savory), so too do they battle at Passover over various matzoh brei methods. Soak the matzoh ‘til it’s mush? Run the matzoh under the faucet for a mere mili-minute to keep the crunch? Sprinkle with cinnamon? A pinch of paprika? A conundrum, for sure.
Rumor has it that there are as many recipes for matzoh brei as there are Jewish grandmothers, and regular folk as well as the famous among us continue to argue the soggy/crisp/sweet/savory issue. For some, matzoh brei is a substitute for French toast, awash in maple syrup.
“Ixnay,” says Ruth Reichl — former editor in chief of Gourmet magazine and ex-restaurant critic for both The New York Times and the L.A. Times — who considers sweet matzoh brei to be an abomination. (Ms. Reichl’s word. Honest.)
Others prefer matzoh brei dished up like plain old scrambled eggs. Oddly enough, this humble presentation is preferred by over-the-top architect Frank Gehry (born Frank Owen Goldberg), who told Mark Bittman (a.k.a. The Minimalist of the New York Times) that he (Gehry) could make only one dish — matzoh brei — which he learned from watching his mother.
“I take the matzohs out, run them under the tap and then crumple them,” Gehry said.
“Do you make the matzoh brei look beautiful?” Bittman asked. “Do you arrange it in an architectural fashion?”
Gehry answered, “No.” (Listen. The guy probably depleted his creative juices designing the undulating Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao or, closer to home, the Experience Music Project.)
We’re told that when the Israelites dashed from Egypt with only flat bread in their packs, God answered their culinary cravings with endless mounds of manna. According to Ginsburg’s Legends of the Jews, this miraculous manna contained the flavor of every conceivable dish. If an Israelite wanted a certain food — roast lamb, let’s say — all he had to do was think of it, and voila! the manna tasted like roast lamb. Manna, it is also said, tasted to every one who ate it according to his or her age. To little children it tasted like milk; to strong youths, like bread; to old men like honey; and to the sick, manna tasted like barley cakes steeped in oil and sweet mead. Nowhere, even in legend, do we read that manna tasted like matzoh brei (I’ll keep looking…) But those of us who consider matzoh brei to be a latter-day manna from heaven can conjure it up in traditional — plus astonishing alternative — flavors. In fact, pretty soon our seders might need to add a fifth question: Why is this matzoh brei different from all other matzoh brei?
Here’s one possible answer.
Mexican Matzoh Brei
(from Yum Recipes, by way of The Boston Globe)
Guacamole filling ingredients:
1/2 ripe avocado, peeled, pitted, and coarsely chopped.
1 scallion, finely chopped
2 Tbs. sour cream
1 tsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice
Omelette ingredients:
1 matzoh, broken into 2” pieces
3 eggs, lightly beaten
Kosher salt and pepper to taste
1 Tbs. butter for pan
1/4 cup shredded Monterey Jack or cheddar cheese
1 small jalapeño, cored and finely chopped
Salsa and various toppings (optional)
To make the guacamole: Stir together the avocado, scallion, sour cream, and lemon juice in a small bowl. Set aside.
To make the omelette:
Place matzoh in a colander in the sink and pour boiling water over it. Let stand 2 minutes. Squeeze out the liquid and place matzoh in a bowl. Add eggs, salt, and jalapeno and mix well.
In a 10-inch, nonstick frying pan, melt the butter. Pour matzoh mixture into the hot pan and cook over medium heat, pulling eggs toward the center of pan with a spatula and tilting the pan to allow uncooked portions to flow into empty spaces until set.
Sprinkle the omelette with cheese. Spread the guacamole filling over half the omelette. Cover pan and cook over low heat for 5 minutes. Fold omelette in half and slide onto a serving plate. Divide it in two and serve at once. If desired, garnish with salsa and/or grated cheese, black olives plus more sour cream.
Now let all who are hungry come and eat. Ole! (Or maybe, oy vey…)