I’m not really a cook. Sure, I can follow a recipe, and I’ve learned a few tricks about crockpot cookery, but in general, I don’t have the instincts of a chef, and I don’t have a love for cooking. It’s a chore to be done, lying somewhere between vacuuming (hate) and washing dishes (like)…. except for Chicken Soup weekend. 

Every November, just when the weather starts to turn chilly, I make my great-grandmother’s chicken soup (a.k.a. “Jewish Penicillin”) with matzo balls. It’s a bit time-consuming, taking a full weekend to make, but it makes the house smell fantastic, and it’s the most delicious, heart-warming, satisfying soup you’ll ever taste. My husband talks about it all year, which is a pretty big deal, since, unlike me (and lucky for me), he’s an amazing cook.

(Update: I added the recipe below!)

I started this year’s soup yesterday, and as I was ripping apart the boiled chicken (which is more fun than it sounds), I started thinking about where the recipe came from. I never met my Great-Grandma Rose, for whom I was middle-named, and yet every year I am united with her through cookery, via a recipe passed down four generations.

It’s a very simple recipe, but it wouldn’t have been so simple back when Great-Grandma was cooking it. When she was younger, at least, she wouldn’t have had an icebox. She would have had to go out and buy a whole chicken and all the vegetables and cook them right away. The recipe calls for chilling the stock overnight; I’m guessing she just put the pot outside when it was cold enough. I’m not sure what kind of stove she would have used, but it was probably more unpredictable and used more dangerous fuel than my General Electric variety. And the matzo balls would have been much harder to make. Even two generations later, when my mother made the soup for me, she made the balls from scratch with matzo meal; I use a pre-made matzo ball mix. (Some people still find them hard to make, even with the mix. The key is to keep your hands wet while rolling them, and don’t make the balls too big, or they’ll break apart.)

Despite major advancements in home and food engineering, I feel close to my unknown great-grandmother when I make her recipe. It’s beautiful to think that my house smells just like hers did a hundred years ago, and that the soup satisfies my family in the same way. I hope when Edwin is older, he’ll make the soup with me, and Nick’s family’s recipes with him.

If “food is love,” as my father always says, then recipes are the love sonnets that generations read together, mother to daughter, father to son.

Don’t forget- Monday’s post this week will be the first of the November mini-series on gratitude!

Great-Grandma Rose’s “Jewish Penicillin” Chicken Soup

1. Clean a whole chicken and place in 12 cups of water with 12 bullion cubes (I only use chicken, but the recipe calls for equal amounts of chicken and beef). Bring to a boil and cook at a gentle boil for about an hour. (You can also add carrots and celery to the stock, to be discarded afterward.)

2. Remove chicken from stock and set aside. Chill stock overnight in refrigerator. When chicken has cooled, remove the skin and place in refrigerator.

3. The following day, skim the excess chicken fat off the cold stock and discard.

4. Bring the defatted stock to a simmer. (Add extra boxed chicken broth if you want a bigger batch of soup.)

5. Remove chicken meat from bones and chop into small pieces. Add to stock.

6. Add carrots, onions, celery. (I keep my soup simple, but the recipe also includes tomatoes and garlic.) Season to taste. (I only use salt and pepper; the chicken stock is flavorful enough on its own.)

7. Simmer for 2 hours.

8. Serve hot, with matzo balls.