Dough (definition)
1. A thick mixture of flour or
meal and liquid such as water that
is kneaded, shaped and baked
2. Slang: money
Dough! What about dough?
Aside from eating delicious
products made of
some form of dough, I’ve discovered
it actually has an interesting
history. I’m not what you would
call a linguaphile. I’m more like
an amateur philologer, one who
reads lots of books and is curious
about the meanings and origins of
particular words. Let me explain
what happened. (By the way – I’ve
discovered pronouncing linguaphile
and philologer are great jaw
and tongue exercises.)
Last night I fell asleep after
binge-watching “The Great British
Bake-off,” 10 years’ worth. Well,
maybe it just felt that long. After
watching bakers compete in categories
like cakes, biscuits, bread,
puddings and pastries – I fell asleep
“all snug in my bed, while visions of
cakes danced in my head.” (Forgive
me. I’m writing this at holiday time
and I’m trying to stay in the spirit
of it.) By now you all know a vision
is as far as I can go when we’re
talking about my culinary skills.
You could never describe me as a
cook, baker or candlestick maker.
I don’t do dat! But of course, it
goes without saying I do appreciate
those skills. If you check my cupboard,
like “Old Mother Hubbard,”
I “bare”ly have ingredients I can
cook or bake with. I only heat up.
I’m phenomenal at that. Oops!
I just checked, I do have candles.
The kind I really don’t like.
Birthday candles. Anyway, right
now, my mindset is, if I can’t eat
it, I don’t need it.
This morning I got up at 10:30
am. Even though it was a bit early
for me I was feeling energized, and
just like that I decided I was going
to make myself a special breakfast
worthy of a Great Jewish Bakeoff—
matzo brei. What? Why matzo
brei? Where did that idea come
from? Matzo is made of dough
isn’t it? It’s a mix of flour, water
and a little salt. It’s not baking, so
I’m cheating a little. Did you think
I could make anything better? No
one knows. I’m the only one who’s
going to eat my creation and no
one is going to tell because I’m
alone in my apartment. I know
I can trust all of you!
I’m beginning to think maybe
wearing two masks all the time is
creating a lack of oxygen to reach
my brain and causing a bit of confusion.
Everyone around me is celebrating
Hanukkah and Christmas
and ‘m eating Passover food?
They’re singing about Dreidels and
Jingle Bells and I’m singing Dayenu
as I’m cooking? Wait! Even though
it’s not Passover do I have to
change over to Passover mode
because I’m making a Passover
meal? Am I now supposed to stop
dusting with my schmatta today
and as tradition dictates, whip
out a feather to gather up the last
crumbs of chometz? Do I have to
toss any of my food out? It’s not
that time of the year. Oy, what kind
of a problem did I create? Maybe
I should have told my butcher to
leave a few feathers intact on my
last chicken. Do you think it’s possible
to use the blue feather from
my feather duster as a substitute?
Would that be kosher? When
you think about wanting matzo,
there’s some logic to it because I
love matzo’s sibling, pita bread,
its cousin the bagel, and of course
its distant cousin, my precious
cheesecake. They are all
members of the Flouritz-
Doughbinsky family.
I happen to love bread in any
shape or form. There’s barely
a meal where it’s not included.
Honestly I’d take a delicious slice
of pumpernickel with a schmear
over almost any cake-like dessert.
I have so many different types of
bread in my home that I’m convinced
there may be an addiction
problem.
During the course of finding
new ways to keep busy, I’ve tried
to make my dinnertime more fun
by working my meal as a theme
around my bread. The other meals?
Eh! On the nights I have a French
baguette, I play French music
(complements of my Amazon
Alexa) light (birthday) candles and
create what I think is a “French”
meal – a slice of cheese over my
reheated matzo ball soup with a
little Manischewitz thrown in. Be
careful! From my experience, too
much wine and I start to speak
French with a Yiddish accent, or
is it Yiddish with a French accent?
After the wine, I’m not sure, but
it’s fun. My kind of “Italian” food
is tasty. While Alexa plays the
Tarantella, I sing and heat up my
pre-cooked chicken meatball that
I serve with my pasta, Goodman’s
wide egg noodles. I have an enormous
salad with stale bagel croutons.
Sometimes I really have to
improvise! I cannot tell a lie, my
delicious “Italian bread” is really a
leftover from my French baguette.
If you’re asking why I don’t start
out with Italian bread, it’s not that
I find the baguette tastier, it’s just
more functional. The baguette is
long and thin and when it gets
stale I try to multi-use it. I can
lift it above my head while doing
exercise, two tied together make
a great cane, and when I’m frustrated
I can use it as a bat to hit
stale matzo balls off my terrace.
Golf, anyone?
On a “Jewish” theme night, rye
bread is an absolute must. What’s
a pastrami sandwich without coleslaw,
pickle, rye bread and Dr.
Brown’s celery tonic? Of course,
there has to be music. On this
night “what is different from other
nights” is that my music genre is
culturally imperfect. Instead of
Hava Nagilah I have Alexa play
my favorite – Dolly Parton. Okay!
I cheat a little with the music, but
when I get up to dance, I do the
hora.
My “Greek” night consists of
gedempte chicken. That part is
easiest. Along with my pita bread,
I eat a piece of chicken and roasted
potatoes and carrots and smash--I
mean drop--a few plates as I carry
them to the sink. My Alexa plays a
little of Zorba and I drink my anise
laced Snapple in place of ouzo. The
only problem I have is when the
music speeds up. Oy vey! That puts
the buzzer into my buzz. Vertigo,
anyone?
I have to tell you some very
good news. At least it is to me.
This morning despite all my eating,
when I got on the scale I found that
I had lost two pounds. Yup! Moved
my scale to a different spot.
Stay safe! Stay well!
Love you,
Gloria
*FYI - Pita is made exactly the
same way as matzo. Each sheet of
matzo has many holes in it to keep
it from rising. The pita rises because
it doesn’t have the holes.
DOUGH A DEAR…………….
16 NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER ¢ March 2021