Best Matzoh Poems
The chicken soup and matzoh balls
Are ready for the pot.
The hard-boiled eggs are in the fridge.
(We never eat them hot.)
The items for the Seder plate
All wait for their debut,
With my homemade charoses.
(Google if you have no clue.)
The chicken cutlets, farfel-topped
And stuffing made from same
Will share the table with some veggies,
Sautéed to acclaim.
Of course, there’ll be gefilte fish
With horseradish (so hot!)
And grape juice or sweet Kosher wine,
Which really hits the spot.
With home-baked brownies and
Some cookies vying for dessert
Along with lotsa matzoh,
There’s an “Oy, I’m stuffed!” alert.
But all the food is not, to me,
The most important part -
It’s sharing these traditions with
Those closest to my heart.
Categories:
matzoh, holiday, jewish,
Form:
Rhyme
Tonight we’ll sit around the table
While we’re reminiscing
Both about the Israelites
And those whom we are missing.
Every Seder takes me back
To those when I was young.
I can hear my Zadie’s voice,
The Hebrew that was sung.
I can taste my Nana’s sponge cake
And gefilte fish,
So much love invested into
Every single dish.
Horse radish my grandpa made
Was mirrored by his face –
Beet-red cheeks and crinkled eyes,
Such merriment in place.
The hard-boiled eggs were split in two;
My cousin got the white.
I consumed the yolk, of course,
In one comedic bite.
Second night my father’s folks
Played host and that was fun.
My grandpa hid the matzoh
To be found when we were done.
We all know where it was, though;
On a pillow he reclined,
The Afikomen tucked beneath
His trouser-clad behind.
He’d get up slightly, just to reach
A serving plate or wine;
Then all the cousins made a grab
To say, “This matzoh’s mine!”
My parents are no longer here,
My grandparents as well;
But if I close eyes,
On Seders past I like to dwell.
Tonight we’ll gather for the meal
But if I tell the truth,
It will be lovely, but no match
For Seders of my youth.
(A Seder is the special Passover meal; the Afikomen is a piece of matzoh (cracker) that's hidden to be found by one of the children for a reward; gefilte fish is a specially made fish concoction that's definitely an acquired taste; Zadie is a grandfather - he was my great-grandfather; Nana is a grandmother.)
Categories:
matzoh, holiday, nostalgia, fish, cousin,
Form:
Rhyme
Some say it tastes like cardboard
While others think it’s great.
The way you feel about it
Isn’t worth a big debate.
For if your background’s Jewish
You’ll consume it for a week,
In honor of tradition
Or acknowledgement you seek.
I like mine spread with butter
And a slice of Muenster cheese
Or mixed with egg for matzoh* brei,
A breakfast sure to please.
But when the week is over,
Let me make this very clear,
I will not taste another bite
‘Til Passover next year!
*or matzo, matzah or any other spelling you like!
Categories:
matzoh, food, jewish,
Form:
Rhyme
Once a year, for one week straight,
A beer I will decline.
Instead, I will indulge in
Manischewitz kosher wine.
If you have never tried it,
Well, your life is not complete,
But you’d sure surprise your taste buds
‘Cause it’s sickeningly sweet.
Since it’s part of my tradition,
It’s a habit I can’t break
And from childhood sips to current times,
I’ve stuck with Concord Grape.
Though I’m not at all religious,
I’m nostalgic for the past
And at Seders* long ago,
The Manischewitz die was cast.
Certain connoisseurs of culture
Call me out and say, “Enough!
Now it’s time to climb the ladder
And reject that sweetened stuff.”
But a creature (me!) of habit
Thinks that Manischewitz wine,
Like the macaroons and matzoh,
Fits the holiday just fine.
*Passover meal
Categories:
matzoh, holiday, wine,
Form:
Rhyme
The chicken soup’s a’boil,
Fluffy matzoh balls on tap.
We’ll use lots of eggs and oil
By the time we call a wrap.
All the pots and pans are waiting,
And the cookie sheets as well,
For the food we are creating
Which tradition does compel.
As we roast and bake and simmer
For this Friday’s festive meal,
I feel more than just a glimmer
Of this holiday’s appeal.
There’ll be dishes on the table
Made from recipes of old
And each taste will thus enable
Reminiscence to take hold.
Categories:
matzoh, food, holiday,
Form:
Rhyme
The holiday’s at sunset
So the afternoon before
Is time for eating food
We won’t be eating anymore.
No bread or beer or pasta -
Not a bagel for a week!
I’ve been doing this since childhood,
So there’ll be no need to sneak.
It’s bizarre - I’m not religious
But tradition reigns supreme
And restricting what you eat is not
As hard as it might seem.
Of course, we use some substitutes
For cooking and to bake
And there are lots of recipes
For foods that we can make.
Tonight there will be matzoh balls
In soup to start our feast,
With 8 more days of special meals
Until we are released.
Categories:
matzoh, food, holiday, jewish,
Form:
Rhyme
With springtime now upon us,
If your town has lots of Jews,
The supermarket has some foods
You might have need to use.
For Passover’s approaching
And the holiday demands
No bread nor pasta be consumed;
Thus, stores have made their plans.
A special section’s filled with
All the substitutes we need
To serve at Seder time, just like
The ancient texts decreed.
There’s matzoh meal, gefilte fish
And macaroons and cakes
And all of the ingredients
For anyone who bakes.
This Passover array depends
On neighborhood and store,
So often pickings might be slim
While other shops have more.
For Jewish folk with markets
With no matzoh, I’d behoove
You to tell the owners how you feel
Or do what I’d do - move!
Categories:
matzoh, holiday, jewish,
Form:
Rhyme
Eating in a New York diner?
Here’s a little scoop:
You don’t have to be Jewish
To have matzoh balls in soup.
For in this local area
(New Jersey is included),
When soup is on the menu,
Matzoh ball won’t be excluded.
The chicken broth which forms the base
Should have sufficient salt,
Although complaints most often place
The matzoh balls at fault.
In restaurants, they’re often huge.
Most times, just one’s afloat;
But it should have a fluffiness
To fill you, not to bloat.
Though matzoh balls are served in soup
Each day throughout the year,
The only time I eat them’s when
The holiday* is here.
But like that Levy’s rye ad said,
You needn’t be a Jew
To eat some soup with matzoh balls –
Go on, it’s good for you!
So if you’ve never had a taste,
It’s time to wet your whistle.
I guarantee you’ll love it,
Likely more than just a bissel**!
*Passover **Yiddish for a little bit
Categories:
matzoh, food, time,
Form:
Rhyme
At Seder 1 we helped prepare
The soup and matzoh balls served there,
The hard-boiled eggs and chicken dressed
In farfel flakes, which tastes the best.
At tables set to serve sixteen,
With kids and grandfolk on the scene,
We read and sang, sipped wine and juice,
The atmosphere relaxed and loose.
The meal complete, the kids ran ‘round,
The afikomen finally found.
The grown-ups schmoozed, dessert consumed
‘Til things slowed down as bedtime loomed.
For Seder 2, we hit the road
And drove in windshield-wiper mode
To visit family miles away
Where overnight we planned to stay.
The Seder table, set for five,
Did beckon us to keep alive
Within Haggadahs Ken revised
The same old tale, but modernized.
We dug into delicious food,
Conversing in a festive mood.
No kids around, but Darby’s tail
Was wagging on an epic scale.
Two Seders, different and unique,
To welcome in this matzoh week
Were back-to-back reminders of
The past and present, fused with love.
Categories:
matzoh, holiday, jewish,
Form:
Rhyme
We covered all the bases –
Told the story, though in brief.
With a toddler and an infant,
It brought everyone relief.
Moses, Pharaoh, matzoh,
Dipping veggies, drinking wine,
Taking turns with the Haggadah,
Festive meal on which to dine.
Every Seder’s slightly different
As my memories attest,
But with grandkids at the table,
This one ranks up with the best.
Categories:
matzoh, family, holiday,
Form:
Rhyme
Parking spots are plentiful
Just like they used to be.
The promenade is empty –
On the benches, only me.
It’s Passover and Easter;
Folks are visiting their friends
Or families to celebrate
Before the daylight ends.
They’re either eating matzoh balls
Or possibly, a ham
With lots of homemade goodies
For desserts for all to cram.
I don’t know what the Easter people
Drink, but in New York,
We Pesach* folk drink Manischewitz,
Wine without a cork.
*Passover
Categories:
matzoh, holiday,
Form:
Rhyme
Each year I make the matzoh balls,
Which come out pretty good.
My husband cooks the chicken soup;
Our roles are understood.
He always wings it when he cooks,
Just uses what’s on hand
And never needs a recipe,
Which I can’t understand.
I follow the directions
When I cook or when I bake
And measure the ingredients
So there is no mistake.
My time-worn recipes are stashed
In cookbooks or in files;
The drips and spatters dotting them
Evoke nostalgic smiles.
Yet always for the matzoh balls
What has the most appeal
Is the recipe that’s on the box
Of any matzoh meal.
That’s up until this year – there was
No recipe at all!
I Googled and saw dozens,
But not one my matzoh ball.
Until I saw a posting
From a woman who, like me,
Asked if anyone could help her
Find that box-back recipe.
Voila! Someone responded
With a picture of the box.
It’s amazing what technology,
From time to time, unlocks.
I made the matzoh balls
And hope they’re good as they appear,
But I copied down the recipe
So I’ll be set next year.
Categories:
matzoh, food, holiday,
Form:
Rhyme
We’re having a Seder on Zoom
And Passover foods we'll consume.
We’ll eat as a group
Things like matzoh ball soup
But our seats won’t be in the same room.
We’ll read the Haggadah to tell
Of the story we all know so well –
How the Jews, once enslaved,
Crossed the sea and were saved
Though they wandered around for a spell.
Tradition requires we recite
Plagues which filled the Egyptians with fright:
Locusts, blood, boils and then
Frogs and more, which made 10,
All repeated on Passover night.
So by sundown, the Seder will start,
Though from custom we have to depart.
Still, by screen we’ll connect
And we’ll one day reflect
How this plague couldn’t keep us apart.
Categories:
matzoh, holiday, jewish, technology,
Form:
Limerick
A squirrel dashed in front of me,
An acorn in his mouth.
I was heading up the block;
He was going south.
He on four feet, I on two;
Each, though, in a hurry.
I’d increased my pace a bit;
He was all a’scurry.
I had many chores ahead;
Maybe he as well.
What a squirrel’s day is like
Is kinda hard to tell.
Still, we both were racing home
With breakfast on our minds –
He, no doubt, an acorn,
One of his more precious finds.
I’d be having coffee
With some matzoh and some cheese,
Each of us anticipating
Food we hoped would please.
Yet, we’d shared a moment,
Like an urban tip of hat:
A species cross-connection
And c’mon, how nice is that?
Categories:
matzoh, animals, urban,
Form:
Rhyme
Potato latkes, fried in oil
Are eaten every year
When calendars remind us
That our holiday is here.
To keep up the tradition,
There are choices we must make –
Buy them frozen in the market,
Use a mix (that’s a mistake!)
Find them in a local diner
Or, if you have time and space,
Gather all of the ingredients
And your cookware in one place.
Then you peel and grate potatoes
With an onion, egg and salt,
Plus you have to squeeze it dry;
(To leave some liquid is a fault).
Add in matzoh meal to thicken
While your oil heats in a pan;
Next, you fry them ‘til they’re golden
Or the closest that you can.
If you’re lucky, all your efforts
(For it is a lot of work)
Will be worth the energy you spent
(With compliments a perk).
Just as long as you eat latkes,
Get them any way you’ve chosen.
Since I spent all morning grating,
Come next year, I’ll go with frozen.
Categories:
matzoh, chanukah, food,
Form:
Rhyme