It's not quite 8:30 on Sunday morning, and I just put Noah down for his first nap of the day. Why this early? Because he has been up since about 6:15, and after he ate he played in his office (excersaucer), in the jumperoo, with that map with the dangly toys, and sat in the swing while we watched Sesame Street. We're both beat. So he's ready for bed, and when he wakes up we'll go get the New York Times and some Empire chickens.
Why chickens? Becuase Lauren and I both have colds that came on suddenly, so I'm going to make soup. With matzoh balls. While I was feeding Noah this morning I was thinking about matzoh balls and what a strange food they are, being, after all, a floating ball made from matzoh right in the middle of the soup. Texturally, they can either be as light as a balloon or as dense as a doorstop, and making them well is an art, complete with secrets. No, you can't have my secrets. For me, the matzoh ball is one of those great foods that I miss when I'm not eating them. They are a hassle to prepare and the commercial mixes are subpar, which means that most of the time I have them when someone else makes them. They are bland without the soup and they have a short shelf life. In short, like anything worth doing they are difficult, which is why I am so glad Noah woke me up so early, so I can have some ready for lunch.
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