Noodle Kugel

Everybody’s noodle kugel Varies in a way And some taste just as different As the night is to the day. Most recipes were handed down, A bit of family lore, Or found in temple cookbooks, Which have recipes galore. I tried a few when searching For the one I’d call my own, Since the kugels of my grandmas From my memory have flown. But I hit upon the perfect one And make it every year. Not everybody loves it But each piece will disappear Since whatever’s left, I’ll wrap and freeze So it won’t go to waste And then, bit by bit, I’ll eat it ‘Cause it’s made to just my taste.