Nosh-Off

Despite its offbeat flavor, I liked the pizza. With enough olives and capers it can be a zestful crowd pleaser. The preparation is easy enough to make it worth a try, especially if it looks like you’re stockpiling matzahs for the next ice age in your pantry. Besides, it totally beats saucing and cheesing matzah and throwing it in the toaster oven.

But the Barney Greengrass recipe deserves the gold medal. Matzah brei is a dish rooted in upbringing. Every time I eat it I think of my mother and her overflowing pie plate. Mr. Simone’s traditional recipe is a true comfort: Upon first bite I felt like I was sitting at my place at the dinner table home in Austin. That’s a feeling no pizza comes close to matching.

When done right, matzah brei is that good.

* * *

Traditional Matzah Brei

Recipe courtesy Nicholas Simone

The champion: Like a delicious eggy custard

Yield: 4 Servings

Ingredients:
10 eggs
½ cup half-and-half
8 plain matzahs
6 tbsp butter for skillet

Suggested toppings:

Apple Sauce
Preserves
Powdered Sugar

Method:

Beat eggs and half-and-half. Break matzahs into about 1 inch pieces into egg mixture. Let stand for 30 minutes.

Heat a skillet or large sauté pan on the stove over medium high heat. Add butter. When foam subsides add matzahs.

For scrambled brei, stir as if making scrambled eggs until brei is browned and chunky.

For pancake-style, allow the brei to form a firm brown crust before flipping.

Serve with applesauce, preserves, or powdered sugar.

 

Matzah Brei Pizza

Recipe courtesy Mitchell Davis

Second place: Add salt for a bit more kick

Yield: 6 to 8 servings

For the matzah crust:
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus additional olive oil for greasing the pan
1 medium onion (about 6 ounces), finely minced
2 small cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 to 2 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs (any combination of rosemary, thyme, oregano, or marjoram will work)
8 plain matzahs (not unsalted), broken into 1-inch pieces
5 large eggs
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

For the toppings:
Tomato sauce or imported Italian whole plum tomatoes
Fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
Black olives, capers, or other flavorings
Fresh herbs
Extra-virgin olive oil

Lightly grease a jelly-roll or half sheet pan with olive oil, line with parchment paper, and lightly oil the paper. Set aside. Preheat the oven to 400°F.

In a small sauté pan, heat the 3 tablespoons of olive oil. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until soft and translucent. They should not take on any color.

Add the wine and cook off the alcohol, about 3 or 4 minutes.

Stir in the fresh herbs and set aside.

Place the broken matzah in a large bowl and cover with cold water. Let sit for a minute or two, until the matzah is just soft but not soggy. It should still have a slight snap when you break a piece of matzah in half. Drain thoroughly.

Add the sautéed onion mixture, the eggs, salt, and pepper, and mix well.

Dump this mixture into the prepared pan and spread out to cover the surface of the pan evenly. Place in the preheated oven and bake until set and just slightly golden brown, about 10 minutes.

Remove from the oven. Turn the oven up to 450°F.

Arrange the toppings on the crust, using the sauce or whole tomatoes that you squish in your hands. Make thin, even layer of cheese, sprinkle with herbs and drizzle with olive oil.

Return to the oven and continue baking until the cheese has melted and browned, about 15 minutes. Cut into squares and serve hot.

© 2004, Mitchell Davis

Mr. Mitchell devised the recipe for matzah brei pizzot for a class he taught on Passover baking. Healthier than Mr. Simone’s, it lacks half-and-half and is baked, not fried in butter.

Quite a saucy dish: Prepping the crustMr. Mitchell’s recipe wasn’t much more difficult to prepare than Mr. Simone’s, the main difference being the welcome addition of flavorings to the mix. You could use any herbs, but I followed the chef’s recommendation, adding fresh thyme and parsley.

The main flaw in this recipe was its lack of salt. Salt is not only a flavoring on its own, but an enhancer of every other flavor in a dish (even brownies—that pinch serves a purpose). I had gone to all the trouble to prepare the flavorings, including finely minced onions and garlic in a white wine reduction, but without the salt, they fell flat, though the green speckling of herbs made for a pleasing presentation.

The matzahs soak quickly in water before going into the egg mixture, which doesn’t have a greatly discernible effect on flavor. Mr. Mitchell’s recipe uses a much higher matzah-to-egg ratio to achieve a more crust-like final product; without the half and half and butter, it’s inherently a little bland. It comes out with just a hint of egginess.

It's getting hot in here: Baking the pizzaThe sauce literally couldn’t have been simpler: I spooned it out of a jar (though I did wind up sprinkling on extra black olives and capers after baking, which went quite well with the brei). I topped one corner of the pizza just with basil, the way I order it at my favorite wood-fired pizza joint in NoHo. Though the basil was pungent on its own, its flavor sank against the brei crust. Matzah brei is mild, but so entrenched in its own brei-ness that extra flavorful ingredients like black olives and capers are necessary. Indeed, this would be an ideal canvass for anchovies…if you swing that way.

I topped the whole thing with quintessentially fresh mozzarella (read: swimming in murky water) from Whole Foods. Thought it was lovely on its own, the final pizza didn’t do it justice; it would have been tastier (and certainly easier) to use the pre-shredded kind found in any old grocery store, as Domino’s or Little Cesar’s does.

Bland but enjoyable: The finished specimenThe final product did taste like pizza, though, except for the crust’s texture. Matzah brei is innately fluffy and spongy—it won’t crisp in the oven (or in a frying pan, for that matter) or achieve pizza dough’s inherent chewiness. Mr. Mitchell’s recipe is like a healthier version of pizza from a chain like Domino’s or Little Cesar’s.

The dish was enjoyable if somewhat bland. Best of all, it was simple. Preparing homemade dough is a laborious process, requiring counter space and a dough hook and mixer that I just don’t have.

If you’re picky about pizza crust, and insist on slightly charred crispiness like my mother, this probably isn’t for you. But if you’re like many of us and like pizza Domino’s-style on occasion, I’d suggest giving this a go.

Next: We have a winner

Temple of brei on the Upper West Side: Barney GreengrassBarney Greengrass’s famous matzah brei recipe is closely guarded; when I called to speak to their chef, Nicholas Simone, I reached an elderly gentleman who made me explain myself three times before he would hand over the phone. The secrecy might be worth it: Mr. Simone has a wealth of deli knowledge, having headed the Barney Greengrass kitchen for 25 years. Before his current gig he worked at Sarges, another Jewish deli in New York established in 1964. And if that‘s not enough Jewish credibility for you, consider this: He uses a matzah brei recipe from his grandmother. Though the restaurant serves it to the customer’s preference—with or without onions, scrambled or whole, choice of preserves or applesauce—Mr. Simone takes his with just a dusting of powdered sugar. “It’s like French toast,” he says. “So you use anything that would go on French toast.”

There was hardly a recipe to give out. No salt, no sugar, no vanilla, Mr. Simone explained. Just eggs, matzah, half and half, and butter for the skillet. I confess, I was hoping for more of a challenge. (This was my first time preparing matzah brei myself for the urban family.) But the ease of preparation was a blessing, considering I cooked in my Manhattan apartment with little space and few tools.

Though it ran contradictory to my culinary principles, I followed Mr. Simone’s instructions and added no flavorings, not even salt. Mr. Simone uses Manischewitz unsalted matzahs, but I used the crispier, wheatier Yehoda I had on hand. While many recipes call for soaking the matzahs in water before adding them to an egg mixture, Mr. Simone soaks them directly in the liquid, which has always made more sense to me.

Don't keep leftover matzah till next spring: All the ingredients you needThe recipe is great because it requires nothing more than a bowl and a pan. After a half-hour soak, the mixture is ready for the skillet. I used an oversized sauté pan and prepared half the mixture—which would serve two according to Mr. Simone—scrambled and half as a giant pancake. I started with the easier scrambled version since I had been warned by Mr. Davis that flipping was the real challenge.

I found color the key to preparing the scrambled variety. You must abandon the just-until-done scrambled egg mentality: Matzah brei is meant to have color. Really let it brown and form naturally into separate spongy chunks. The browning principle also holds for the whole pancake. Without the support of a binding browned crust, the brei will fall apart mid-flip. When mine looked nicely colored, I managed to flip the 15-inch disk of brei with three spatulas.

Both scrambled and whole breis tasted the same, but the added surface area of the scrambled allowed it to absorb much more butter, while the pancake came out swimming in a pan of buttery foam.

It’s a bland dish on its own and not meant to be eaten plain—hence the debate over toppings. Topping the scrambled brei with salt and ketchup made it truly nostalgic and a favorite of my roommate. But the pancake with a few spoonfuls of powdered sugar was delicious—-like French toast but denser and heartier. And with the extra butter, the powdered sugar melted into a glaze reminiscent of a donut’s.

Color is the key: Wait till it brownsAs much as I loved the way brei with salt and ketchup made me feel like a 12-year-old, I took seconds of the pancake with powdered sugar. Thinking of my mom, I felt a little guilty, but it seems sweet is the universal preference: Most customers at Barney Greengrass order it that way (10 to one according to the chef) and the only girl on my tasting panel who grew up with brei takes hers with sour cream and powdered sugar. The half-and-half—the recipe’s defining ingredient—made this brei almost custard-like in texture, like a bread pudding, perhaps better lending the dish to extra sucrose.

I found applesauce a disappointing accompaniment, though. Its mealy texture conflicted with the brei, and it fizzled against the richness of the half-and-half, eggs, and butter. Powdered sugar is a far more robust sweetener.

Mr. Simone’s recipe may have converted me to the sweet camp.

Next: Healthier than Domino's, and almost as easy

My father said I shouldn’t write about matzah brei because it’s just not that good. His main complaint: “It always needs salt.” In my household growing up, this was true. But after a heavy shower from the saltshaker and a long squeeze from the ketchup bottle, my mother’s matzah brei was toothsome indeed.

Mom never made it fancy: I always thought of hers as scrambled eggs more than anything else, and it didn’t take much more effort to prepare. I’d pass through the kitchen the week after Passover to find her stuffing leftover matzat into a pie dish filled with raw eggs, then weighing them down with a second plate, always careful to stay over the sink lest—GASP—spillage occur. (My mom has a knack for a spotless kitchen: messy preparations always happen over the sink or trashcan and no crumb escapes a damp Bounty.)

I always liked matzah brei and felt comforted by that overflowing pie plate. I’d even packed leftovers in Tupperware for lunch in grade school, where I was one of the few token Jews. My classmates would collectively gawk as I emptied at least six ketchup packets into the corner of my dish.

Shake it, sugar: Some like it sweetFoodies, on the other hand, tend to agree with my dad. Matzah brei is hardly regarded as the pinnacle of Jewish cuisine or culinary deftness, making it an excellent candidate for a makeover. As per Nosh-Off rules, I found a classic recipe and a new one, cooking them both in my apartment one Sunday night.

The traditional recipe comes from New York City’s Barney Greengrass, a 99-year-old restaurant and food store specializing in old-fashioned Jewish cuisine. Its challenger is an olive-and-caper pizza on matzah brei crust from Mitchell Davis of the James Beard Foundation. Both recipes met the ultimate requirement: They use up all those matzah box barnacles clinging to your shelves post-Pesach.

While I was at it, I tried to settle an old score with a bonus competition. Matzah brei toppings are a subject of much debate: Should the dish be served savory, with caramelized onions, salt, or ketchup? Or sweet, with preserves, powdered sugar, or applesauce? Barney Greengrass serves it both ways, so I did the same.

Next: The classic deli recipe done two ways

Yield: 4 Servings

Ingredients:
1 whole 4-pound duck
11 sprigs fresh thyme, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ teaspoon ground white pepper, plus additional to taste
4 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 cups white wine
2 onions, diced
6 ribs celery, diced
2 carrots, diced
2 bay leaves
3 whole peppercorns
2 ounces tomato paste
5 ounces boneless, skinless, chicken breast
2–3 sprigs fresh tarragon, chopped
4 ounces egg whites, whisked
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
12 baby carrots
2 large eggs
2 Tablespoons cold duck fat
½ cup matzah meal
2 Tablespoons soda water
1 teaspoon salt, plus additional to taste

Method:
Carefully cut off the duck’s legs and breasts, leaving the skin intact. Make a marinade of 6 sprigs of the chopped fresh thyme, the garlic, ¼ teaspoon of the ground white pepper, and 2 Tablespoons of the extra virgin olive oil. Divide the marinade between the legs and breasts, seasoning only the flesh-side of the breasts. Refrigerate overnight.

The next morning, pre-heat the oven to 225º F. Remove the duck legs from the fridge and place them in a small, shallow oven-safe dish. Cover the dish and roast the legs for 12 hours. Remove from heat and allow to cool. Do not drain.

Preheat another oven to 375º F. De-bone what remains of the duck. Remove any excess fat and discard. With a large cleaver, cut the carcass into pieces, including the wing tips and neck. Place all the pieces in a roasting pan; cover and roast, turning occasionally, until golden brown, for approximately 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and pour out the fat that renders, reserving it for later use. Pour 2 cups of white wine into the roasting pan with the duck pieces. With a wooden spoon, scrape off any duck pieces that are stuck to the bottom of the roasting pan. Place the pan over low heat on the stove and reduce the liquid by half.

Make a mirepoix vegetable by sautéing the onions, celery, carrots, and remaining extra virgin olive oil over medium heat for approximately 20 minutes, or until tender. Set aside.

With a slotted spoon, carefully transfer the duck bones and parts from the white wine reduction to a large stockpot on the stove. Pour water into the pot to cover. Bring to a boil and skim off any scum that forms at the top. Add half the prepared mirepoix and set the rest aside for later use. Add 1 bay leaf, 3 sprigs of thyme, and the peppercorns to the stock. Cover and simmer for approximately 2 hours.

Strain the stock through a chinois fin (fine mesh sieve) and allow to cool. Scrape off any fat that rises to the top. (This should yield approximately 2 quarts.)

Return the stock back to a boil.

Place the remaining mirepoix, or approximately 6 ounces, in a food processor and pulse. Add the tomato paste and continue to pulse. Transfer the mixture to a small saucepan and caramelize over low heat for approximately 10 minutes. Place the chicken breast into the food processor and pulse until fine. Whisk the egg whites thoroughly. Combine the mirepoix and tomato mixture with the whisked egg white, minced chicken, remaining bay leaf, thyme, and tarragon. Mix well.

Return the stock to a roiling boil and pour the vegetable/chicken/egg white/herb mixture into the pot. Agitate the bottom of the stockpot with a whisk so that nothing sticks. Wait until a “raft” forms on top of the stock and then turn the heat down to a simmer. Ventilate the raft by carefully poking two small holes through it. Simmer for approximately 2 hours, or until the consommé appears clear through the holes. Remove from heat. Line a chinois fin with cheesecloth. With a slotted spoon, gently remove one edge of the raft to easily access the consommé; discard the raft. With a small ladle, begin removing consommé from the pot and pass it through the chinois, allowing the consommé to cool. (Make sure to use a ladle for this last step. You want to leave some liquid in the pot for blanching the carrot garnish and the matzah balls.)

When the consommé is cool, scrape off any fat that rises.

Remove the duck breasts from the fridge. Trim and score them, skin-side only. Season the flesh-side only with remaining white pepper and the ground allspice. In a dry, non-stick pan over low heat, sear the duck breasts, skin-side down, for approximately 15 minutes. Periodically drain and discard the fat that renders in the pan so the skin gets crispy. Flip the breasts over onto the flesh side to sear for an additional 2 minutes to ensure that they are cooked through; remove from heat and let rest.

Reheat the leftover consommé. Simmer the baby carrots in the liquid; remove from the liquid and let cool on a plate. Keep the liquid hot.

To prepare the matzah balls, beat the eggs in a mixing bowl; combine with the cold duck fat reserved from roasting the duck. Mix well. Fold in the matzah meal. Add the soda water and salt, and mix well to incorporate. Using 2 spoons, shape 12 quenelles, or footballs, of the matzah mixture. Blanch the matzah balls in the leftover consommé. (If there is not enough liquid, add water to cover the matzah balls in the pot.) The matzah balls should cook, covered, for approximately 10 minutes, or until they fluff up and float. Carefully remove them from the liquid with a slotted spoon and allow them to cool on a plate.

Reheat the roasted duck legs. In a dry, non-stick pan over low heat, sear the duck legs, skin-side down, for approximately 5 minutes. Periodically drain and discard the fat that renders, so the skin gets crispy. Remove from heat. Remove the thigh and leg bones. Cut each leg in half lengthwise, to make 4 pieces.

To plate the soup, reheat the consommé. Place half of a duck leg in each of 4 large, shallow, heated soup bowls at “8 o’clock.” Slice the duck breasts thinly on the bias and fan out half of each breast into the bowls at “10 o’clock.” Reheat the matzah balls and carrots in a small amount of leftover consommé. Place 2 or 3 matzah balls in each bowl at “4 o’clock.” Neatly stack 3 carrots in each bowl at “2 o’clock.” Season the consommé with additional salt and ground white pepper to taste. Ladle the consommé carefully into each bowl and serve immediately.

Don't be afraid to try a nouveau alternative: Duck Consomme with Matzah Balls

Yield: 8–10 Servings

Ingredients:
¾ pound chicken parts (backs, wings, and necks)
¾ pound beef marrow bones
2 ribs celery, including leafy tops, cut into 3-inch pieces
1 large onion, unpeeled
1 leek, cut lengthwise and cleaned well
2 cloves garlic, peeled
1 medium parsnip, peeled
1 whole clove
1 bay leaf
1 whole 4–5 lb. chicken
2¼ teaspoons salt, plus 1 Tablespoon, plus additional to taste
½ pound flanken
2 large carrots, peeled
4 large eggs
1/3 cup schmaltz (chicken fat)
¼ teaspoon pepper, plus additional to taste
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1 1/3 cups matzah meal
1 bunch dill, cleaned and tied with a string

Method:
Pour 12 cups of water into a large stockpot. Place the chicken parts, marrow bones, celery, onion, leek, garlic, parsnip, clove, and bay leaf into the pot and bring to a boil. While the water is heating, rub the inside of the chicken with 2 teaspoons of salt. Once the water reaches a roiling boil, add the chicken, flanken, and 1 carrot to the pot. Reduce the heat and simmer for approximately 1 hour, making sure the soup does not boil. Test the chicken with a fork to see if it is tender and fully cooked. Remove the chicken and the carrot from the pot and set aside to cool.

Continue to simmer the soup for an additional 1–1¼ hours. Remove the scum that forms at the surface.

When the chicken cools remove the skin and bones and cut the flesh into bite-sized pieces. (You can add it to the soup just before serving, or use it to make chicken salad.)

Remove the soup from heat; strain through a colander or sieve; and discard all the solids. Keep the soup hot, but not boiling, while you prepare the matzah balls.

To make the matzah balls, fill a large wide stockpot 3/4-full with water and 1 Tablespoon of salt. Bring to a rapid boil.

In a large bowl, crack the eggs and beat thoroughly. Then beat in the chicken schmaltz, ¼ teaspoon salt, pepper, and baking powder. Slowly fold in the matzah meal, mixing vigorously until completely incorporated.

With wet hands, fold the matzah mixture in your palms to shape perfect balls about 1¼ inches in diameter. (They will double in size when cooked.) Gently place the matzah balls in the boiling water, and reduce heat to a simmer. Cover and cook for approximately 25 minutes. Carefully remove the matzah balls from the water with a slotted spoon and set aside on a plate.

Drop the dill into the soup for 1–2 minutes before serving; remove and discard. Season the soup with additional salt and pepper, to taste. Slice the remaining carrot very thinly on a diagonal and drop it into the soup. Place matzah balls, and optional chicken pieces, into the soup upon reheating.

To serve, place 1 or 2 matzah balls in each serving bowl. Place several carrot slices and pieces of chicken in each bowl. Serve immediately.

Winner: The traditional Jewish method (chicken!) beats the fancy French one (duck!).

 

Although Chef Orfaly’s duck consommé was a mouth-watering display of culinary deftness, its preparation necessitated far too many hands for a home kitchen, especially with an amateur chef. If I lived in Boston, I would go to Pigalle or Marco and order it from the chef himself.

In fifty years, if rent inflation should force Mr. Orfaly out of his eateries (as it did Ms. Lebewohl), perhaps his will be the matzah ball–studded duck consommé Bostonians mourn. But unless mourners are trained chefs with two free days to spend making four bowls of soup, they won’t have the comfort of knowing that they can make it at home. Almost anyone can throw the Lebewohl ingredients in a pot and simmer. It won’t be exactly the same as the Second Avenue Deli’s, but most households will come pretty damn close.

Page 1, 2, 3, 4

Chef Orfaly: Drummer, chef, football watcher.Old-fashioned in its own right, Chef Marc Orfaly’s duck consommé with matzah balls employs classical French preparation methods. Born into an Armenian-Syrian family, Chef Orfaly is no stranger to the inner workings of food-obsessed home cooks. Named one of Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs in 2004, and just nominated the third year in a row for a James Beard Best Chef: Northeast award, the Boston-based chef started cooking in high school to pay for drum sets. Mr. Orfaly is still a drummer, and his restaurants reflect that deceptive boyishness. The ideal companion to beer and Monday football, Marco and Pigalle are unpretentious at the outset, revealing their sophistication only upon closer inspection.

Mr. Orfaly’s contemporary matzah ball soup recipe necessitates two full days of cooking. Though the multiphase process allows for a fair amount of downtime between stages, I was never far enough away from my next charge to allow for a reasonable afternoon nap. And after all that, the recipe produces just four portions—less than half Ms. Lebewohl’s.

This recipe is not for an inexperienced home cook. The first few instructions include de-boning and butchering a whole duck. The consommé itself requires a trained eye for upwards of four hours simmering time, not to mention its unusual and messy flavorings, like chicken breast minced by a food processor. After seemingly endless stages—from roasting the bones to clarifying the liquid with an egg white–based raft, to finally straining it by the ladleful—you should have a clear, richly flavored broth.

But the most time-consuming element was the duck meat garnish. After legs and breasts marinate overnight, the legs roast for twelve hours, and the breasts pan-sear to crispy skinned delectability just before serving.

Duck is much fattier than chicken, and the brew accentuates the difference: The resulting cuisine is at once savory and sweet. The deep red-gold soup suggests—and delivers—rich, layered flavors, with accents of thyme. The thinly sliced breast and delicate leg meat, both showcasing well-crisped skin, boost the fatty richness even more.

Like Ms. Lebewohl’s traditional chicken soup, the matzah ball holds the power to make or break. Here, it breaks, resembling a dumpling more than a matzah ball, and noticeably lacking the Lebewohl levity. Its grainy texture recalls a chewy semolina or polenta, and after two days of hot stove labor, I’m left feeling dispirited.

Recipe: Duck Consomme with Matzah Balls

My bowl of duck and matzah balls: Two non-stop days yielded four of these.

Page 1, 2, 3, 4 > Next: The Chicken or the Duck? >

Late and Great: The famous New York deli after rent hikes forced its closure.Abe Lebewohl, Sharon’s father, opened the Second Avenue Deli in 1954 on the Lower East Side as a ten-seat establishment. It quickly became a New York institution and remained so until its untimely closing New Year’s Day of 2006, when its rent surpassed affordable. New Yorkers mourned many a comfort food lost, including this chicken soup with matzah balls.

The Lebewohl recipe was honed to perfection as it passed down through the generations. “Born with a soupspoon in her mouth,” Ms. Lebewohl says the secret to the legendary potage is in her bones. Literally. In addition to a whole chicken, including parts like the neck, Ms. Lebewohl uses highly gelatinous beef marrowbones and flanken, a cut from the short ribs of beef, to boost flavor and body.

The Lebewohl recipe doesn’t require any other intimidating ingredients and is fairly straightforward. Less than three hours after I started cooking, a delectable aroma filled my kitchen. Marveling at my own self-control, I managed to delay the taste test since, Sharon insists, the flavor improves the next day.

Simple comfort: My recreation of the Second Avenue Deli favorite.After the brew cools in the fridge overnight, you must skim and discard the fat that rises and congeals at the top (holiday food does not equal diet food). Pale yellow in color, the broth is rich and flavorful, and the last-minute addition of dill leaves an herby afternote. Bits of chicken are juicy and tender, but the true star in this nostalgic Jewish fare is the matzah ball. The traditional way to prepare matzah balls is with chicken fat, a.k.a. schmaltz. Though recipes found on boxed matzah balls often call for oil, Ms. Lebewohl’s proves there is no substitute for chicken fat, as scary and caloric as it may be. Yet, thanks to a touch of baking powder, the balls remain light and buoyant with a smooth texture and perfectly seasoned, pepper-accented flavor.

Ms. Lebewohl’s final product justifies its longevity.

Recipe: Chicken Soup with Matzah Balls

Page 1, 2, 3, 4 > Next: The Reinvention: Duck Consommé with Matzah Balls >

Those who have butchered a whole bird, razoring it into chunks of flesh, fat, bone, skin, and cartilage, know it is no pleasant task (especially without a sharp knife). But not long ago, I butchered both a chicken and a duck over the course of two days. With Passover looming, I was testing matzah ball soup recipes: first, an old-fashioned chicken version, and then its nouveau French counterpart, a duck consommé.

On holidays, a little extra effort on the culinary front comes standard, but we don’t usually exert it reinventing traditional dinnertime favorites, especially in Jewish kitchens. Jewish holidays aren’t like Thanksgiving, when it seems every other American beelines to the hardware store for a ten-gallon fryer to give this year’s turkey a deep-fat bath. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s snubbed these faddy Thanksgiving Fryer types, but what if their final product is more delicious than the traditional roasted fare?

With that thought in mind, I abandoned traditionalist skepticism to attempt Jewcy’s first Nosh Off. It’s like Jewcy’s version of Iron Chef, except the contest is between two recipes—one a traditional preparation and Fresh-faced: Before I demolished these ingredients with two days of non-stop cookingthe other a reinvented nouveau version of the same dish—prepared, taste-tested, and judged by us. After two days of de-boning, slow-roasting, fast-roasting, rendering, mixing, pan-searing, knife-wielding, and simmering—lots of simmering—in my mom’s kosher kitchen, I had two very different poultry-infused bowls: Chef Sharon Lebewohl’s chicken soup with matzah balls from New York’s famed, late Second Avenue Deli, and Boston Chef Marc Orfaly’s matzah balls in duck consommé.

Producing a truly tasty homemade stock or broth is no small feat. Celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain smugly admitted in his behind-the-restaurant-scenes Kitchen Confidential that, while studying at the Culinary Institute of America, he’d cheated in stock-making by adding tasty soup-packet powder. His peers were bewildered at the flavor he extracted from mere bones and vegetables. Bouillon cubes offer a similar shortcut, but the real stuff requires the whole bird. Working with any whole animal in the kitchen, from fish to bird, may daunt the neophyte home cook, but the results are well worth it.

Page 1, 2, 3, 4 > Next: Old-School Comfort: Chicken Soup with Matzah Balls >