The Never Written Story

Sometimes things stare us right in the face so directly that we can't see them. Plottie is trying to convince his friend Chef Pickle to write her story about matzoballs, but after several Passovers she has yet to do it.

Pickle is the daughter of a Presbyterian minister. She has her own religious spirit now but it has nothing to do with going into a church. She is a French chef by trade so perhaps her holy book is Escoffier.

TGP has gone to six decades worth of seders and the food was usually not that great. It's hard to serve good food when you never know how long the plagues will take.

Once he was served lobster at a seder. That's like having a rack of pig.

The worst part was he didn't even realize eating lobster was forbidden. Ducknik had to tell him. Perhaps this is the story Plotnik ought to write.

And matzoballs? Everybody's mom or aunt opens a can of broth and then follows the recipe on the box of matzo. The soup is tasteless and the matzoballs are either leaden or invisible.

But Plotnik didn't realize that until Chef P. and her duck fat joined the party. She learned to cook from the African-American cook in her dad's church. That lady would be proud of these matzoballs, I guarantee it, though she might scratch her head at the duck fat when pig fat is so much easier.

Plottie would read the story. He wishes Chef P. would write it. We all have stories. They're usually interesting to everyone but us.