by Gil Marks
As soon as the water comes into contact with the flour, the kneter (kneader), making sure his hands are initially dry, combines the two ingredients and presses the mixture to form a stiff ball of dough; this procedure is typically completed in about thirty seconds. An efficient mixer can prepare up to six batches in an eighteen-minute session. An assistant moves the bowl to a long brown paper—lined or aluminum table, quickly pinches off appropriate-sized pieces of dough (teiglach), no larger than the palm of a hand, and tosses them to the awaiting orten (rollers), generally women. Each batch yields ten balls. The rollers quickly knead the dough pieces, never allowing them to rest, even momentarily, until they are of a uniform consistency; this step takes less than a minute. Without stopping, the dough is efficiently flattened, using long wooden or, increasingly today, metal rolling pins without handles into thin rounds; the most common size is about ten inches in diameter. Upon finishing, the roller typically shouts "matza, matza," informing others of the dough's status, then taps the table with a roller to request the next piece of dough.
The dough for making hard matzas, although very firm, contains water, which expands upon contact with sufficient heat in the form of bubbles. Because the air in a large globule can insulate the dough at the bottom of the bubble, the dough can potentially dry rather than cook during the very short baking time, resulting in chametz. A bubble in a baked matza larger than a hazelnut in the shell is unacceptable (matza nefucha). Therefore, after rolling out the very dry dough, it is perforated all over to prevent bubbles. Various medieval etchings and manuscripts reveal matza bakers in the fifteenth century poking the holes one at a time using a spike. Today, the derlanger (kicker) drapes five dough rounds on a twelve-foot wooden pole and spreads them on a table, where workers rapidly perforate the rounds all over with a reddeler (sharp-toothed metal docker).
The derlanger then arranges the perforated disks on the pole and hands it to the schieber (slider), sometimes called the zetser (setter), who quickly inspects each loaf and hurries to the adjoining room containing an extremely hot wood-burning oven set at about 1000°F. He deftly rolls the disks flat on the floor of the oven, an operation requiring much coordination and practice to prefect. Matzas are fully baked within fifteen to twenty seconds, whereupon the schieber removes the charred disks using a long-handled peel and transfers them to a cooling table, sometimes cooled by fans, where they will be sorted. The treger (carrier/porter) moves the matzas to the packing area. Any matza that is too thick, is swollen (nefuchot), or has folded over (kefulot) in the oven is rejected as chametz.
At the end of eighteen minutes, the baker (head baker) halts the proceedings. Any unbaked dough is disposed of and all the equipment, and hands and fingernails, are meticulously cleaned and inspected. New brown butcher paper is laid over the wooden tables or, if metal, the tables are cleaned anew. The metal reddeler and bowls are also cleaned to perfection. The wooden poles are either covered with fresh baking paper or scoured, like the rollers, commonly with sandpaper. The entire procedure is then repeated. The Bible describes matza as lechem oni, which the Talmud explains connotes "poor man's" bread; ironically hand matza has become quite expensive to purchase.
Machine Matza
In the wake of the Industrial Revolution, the venerable process of hand baking would face competition, as machines were developed to facilitate matza making. In 1838, Isaac Singer, an Alsatian Jew from Ribeauville, created a machine to roll out matza dough, although the kneading and perforating were still performed by hand. The device consisted of two parallel cylindrical metal drums that were manually rotated by a wheel. The dough was pressed between the drums and flowed out in sheets onto a long table, where workers cut out dough rounds using sharp metal rings, then perforated the dough. The entire process, from mixing to baked matza, took about two minutes. Initially, this modernization inspired little objection and, instead, received letters of approval from the rabbis of France and renowned sages of central Europe. Within a few years, these machines spread throughout much of western and central Europe.
Machines led to an unprecedented physical change—the square matza. Initially, the machine matzas, like the handmade type, were round; when they were cut out, the corners were removed. These edges, for economic reasons, were rerolled and cut, threatening the eighteen-minute time frame. To eliminate trimmings, saving time and money, machine matza makers early on opted for cutting the dough sheets into contiguous squares, altering the traditional shape. In addition to altering the shape, the machine eventually transformed Ashkenazic hard matza from a product generally eaten exclusively during the festival of Passover to a widely available and inexpensive item enjoyed year-round by non-Jews as well as Jews.
In due course, a group of businessmen in Kraków, Poland, announced plans to import the first matza- rolling machine in the area, a proposal met with heated resistance in some circles. One of the primary points of contention was the loss of jobs by the poor women and widows who relied on the yearly work of dough rolling, no small matter in the impoverished and restrictive climate of eastern Europe. The majority of Polish and Ukrainian rabbis, especially Chasidim, followed suit, denouncing the machines. Most rejections were issued on principle by people who had never actually set eyes on a matza machine and did not understand how they worked. In general, Lithuanian rabbis were much less critical of the new technology than their Chasidic brethren.
Unlike the detractors, those who viewed these machines in operation recognized that dough would not stick to the smooth metal drums. Others considered mass production preferable to making matza by hand, as it eliminated the possibility of errors being made by amateur workers, particularly with the contemporary firm, dry dough that was difficult for even the strongest people to knead.
The first matza-rolling machine in Israel arrived in 1863 in Jerusalem, where it generally found acceptance among the non-Chasidim, but, as in Europe, was vehemently denounced by Chasidim. After 1948, several automated matza factories sprung up in Israel, following the example of American firms. In 2010, Israeli machine matza, totaling more than nine million dollars in sales, was exported to forty countries; the United States constituted 52 percent of the total Israeli matza exports.
Large commercial handmade matza bakeries were never established in nineteenth-century America and mass immigration of Chasidim only occurred following World War II. Consequently, machine matza factories found acceptance more easily in the New World.
In 1886, Rabbi Abramson (d. 1914) from the Lithuanian town of Salant purchased the passport of a dead man to escape from Germany or to avoid being drafted into the Russian army for twenty years. The name on the document was Dov Behr Manischewitz. Using his new name, Manischewitz immigrated to Cincinnati, Ohio, and subsequently served as a ritual slaughterer and peddler. Two years later, because matzas were difficult to obtain in his new hometown, Manischewitz started a small matza bakery in his basement for family and friends. Demand grew, as matzas became particularly popular for their keeping ability with pioneers heading west by wagons and Cincinnati was the starting point for many pioneers. By 1900, he opened a large factory and revolutionized the business by switching from coal to gas ovens, allowing for better control. Instead of merely using machines to roll out the dough, Manischewitz established a fully automated factory with machines also mixing, perforating, and cutting, and introducing a patented belt to transfer the dough through the oven. The company built a new oven, at the time the largest on earth. Machine matza is baked at around 900°F for about one minute and twenty seconds. In order to prevent the dough from coming into contact with heat before entering the oven, the machines were insulated, an innovation welcomed by the workers. The factory was soon turning out seventy-five thousand pounds of matza daily, the vast majority of which was purchased by non-Jews heading west.
Through aggressive marketing and advertising, Manischewitz transformed the matza bearing his name from a local product to a high-volume commodity shipped throughout the country as well as to many other
parts of the world. The company's introduction and marketing of packaged matza meal also revolutionized the culinary world, transforming the matza ball from a dish eaten solely on Passover to a food enjoyed year-round. In the 1940s, Manischewitz, which had been a public company since 1923, expanded its line to include crackers, soups, and other products. Today, Manischewitz, after acquiring several rival companies, produces more than half the matza consumed in America on Passover.
A few other American machine matza factories followed, most located in the New York metropolitan area and catering to the stricter demands of eastern Europeans arriving after World War I. Around 1890, Aron Streit (d. 1937), a hand matza baker, and his wife, Nettie, emigrated from their native Austria, ending up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. In 1916, Streit and his partner, Rabbi Weinberger, opened a hand matza bakery on Pitt Street. Then in 1925, Streit, along with his oldest son, Irving, opened a modern machine matza factory on the corner of Rivington and Stanton streets. As the company expanded, Streit's purchased the three adjoining buildings and began to sell its products nationwide. Streit's, which is still owned and operated by Aron's descendents, remains in the same location, as the last of the Lower East Side matza bakeries. Unlike many other machine matza bakeries, Streit's, which now holds about 40 percent of the American matza market, only produces matza in eighteen-minute runs, with rabbis checking the timing with stopwatches. By 2005, however, the company did offer some unorthodox flavors, including sun-dried tomatoes and garlic matza and olive oil matza.
Besides serving as bread, matzas—whole, crumbled, and ground—are used during Passover to create various dishes. Whole and crumbled matzas are typically first softened in liquid, then added to a dish. Crumbled matzas, also called matza farfel, are added to fritadas, kugels, stuffings, pancakes, matza brei, confections, and even custard. Hard matza is ground to produce matza meal and finely ground for matza cake meal, and these products are the basis of many Passover dumplings and baked goods. Since matza meal has an intriguing nutty flavor, it is often used for binding and breading throughout the year, as well as on Passover.
(See also Bread, Chametz, Chremsel, Farfel, Gebrochts, Knaidel/Kneydl, Kugel, Leche, Mina, and Seor (Starter Dough))
Matza Brei
Matza brei is a dish of soaked pieces of matza mixed with beaten eggs and fried as a pancake or omelet.
Origin: North America
Other names: Hebrew: matza metugehnet; Yiddish: bubbeleh, matza breit, matza pletzl.
Soaked whole matza fried in butter or schmaltz is a venerable Jewish dish and was included, without the addition of eggs, in the first English-language cookbook, The Jewish Manual (London, 1846), as "Fried Matsos."
Ashkenazim, however, generally add another touch, eggs. Aunt Babette's (Cincinatti, 1889), in a recipe entitled "Ueberschlagene Matzos or Matzos Dipped in Eggs," called for coating the soaked whole matzas in beaten eggs before frying. The first edition of The Settlement Cook Book (Milwaukee, 1901) contained a recipe for "Matzos Pancakes." The recipe directed, "Beat eggs very light, add salt. Heat the fat in a spider [a skillet with feet]. Break matzos into large, equal pieces. Dip each piece in the egg mixture and fry a light brown on both sides. Serve hot, sprinkled with sugar, cinnamon and a little grated lemon rind."
Shortly thereafter, Eastern European Jews in America began to bind crumbled and soaked matza with eggs and fry the mixture in a skillet, which was named matza brei (Yiddish meaning "matza pulp/mash"). Matza brei, a cross between a pancake and an omelet, is a relatively late innovation, developed from square machine matza. The automated production of matza not only led to greatly reduced prices and increased availability, making dishes like matza brei more practical and economical, but also resulted in a slightly thicker and flakier matza than that made by hand. Hand matza, or even machine egg matza, does not yield the same result in matza brei as plain machine matza.
Over the years, this dish has provided many an Ashkenazic Passover breakfast and, sometimes, also lunch and dinner. In many families, the husband, who otherwise rarely set foot in the kitchen, somehow became responsible for churning out skillets of matza brei for his hungry brood. Some people tire of matza brei after a few days and seek alternatives, while others enjoy it for a week straight and beyond. Matza brei can now be found on the menu of some delis and even Jewish cafeterias at American universities even when it is not Passover—it is another Jewish comfort food.
There is, to put it mildly, no set recipe for matza brei. It can be dry or moist depending on the soaking time and amount of eggs. Some stir it in the pan like scrambled eggs for a fluffier texture; others fry it undisturbed as a pancake for a firmer texture and a contrasting crisp exterior. Much disagreement persists over which style of matza brei is superior. It may be prepared as one large pancake or numerous smaller ones. Cooks have developed many variations of the basic matza brei recipe, adding milk, sweeteners, cheese, lox, onions, sliced mushrooms, fruit, and other ingredients. Although matza brei purists feel that these variations smack of heresy, nonconformists enjoy the diversity. Matza brei is frequently accompanied with jam, honey, cinnamon-sugar, applesauce, sour cream, or yogurt.
Ashkenazic Fried Matza with Egg (Matza Brei)
3 to 4 servings
[DAIRY, PAREVE, or MEAT]
3 to 4 large eggs, lightly beaten
4 (6-inch square) matzas
About ¼ teaspoon table salt or ½ teaspoon kosher salt
Ground black pepper to taste
3 tablespoons butter, margarine, or schmaltz (not oil)
1. Place the eggs in a large bowl. One at a time, move the matza under cold running water until softened but not mushy, about 1 minute. Drain the matza and crumble it into coarse pieces, dropping the pieces into the eggs. Alternatively, crumble the hard matza in a colander, pour 3 cups boiling water over the top, squeeze out the excess moisture, and add to the eggs. Season with the salt and pepper.
2. In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the matza mixture and fry, pressing down the center occasionally and turning once, until golden on both sides, about 5 minutes per side. Some people leave the matza brei whole, while others cut it into quarters for easier turning and serving. For scrambled matza brei, stir the mixture constantly while frying. To make matza brei pancakes, fry the mixture by heaping tablespoonfuls. Serve warm.
Mchadi
Mchadi is a dense, unleavened skillet corn cake.
Origin: Georgia
The Ottoman Turks introduced corn to Georgia in the seventeenth century and the grain had an overwhelming effect on the western part of the country. Georgia's hot and humid climate proved ideal for growing the American grain, so cornmeal became inexpensive and accessible. While Georgians from the east of the country continued to rely on wheat flatbreads, those in the west came to prefer cornmeal, in the form of porridges and pancakes.
Dense, unleavened skillet corn cakes, known as mchadi, were more versatile and much easier to make than porridge, so they became a regular sight at most meals. These pareve, unleavened cornmeal pancakes are crisp on the outside and soft on the inside like American johnnycakes and hoecakes. However, unlike American johnnycakes, which are made from a relatively thin batter poured onto a hot flat surface, mchadi are thick, made from coarse cornmeal, and formed by hand. Mchadi are generally made with white cornmeal, but yellow is acceptable. Mchadi are traditionally cooked on an earthenware plate (ketsi) set over hot coals in a fireplace, but a cast-iron skillet on a stove makes a handy substitute, although the flavor will be slightly different.
Mchadi are intended to be firm and relatively dry, not light and fluffy; their texture allows them to serve as a base for other foods and to sop up liquids. The relatively bland corn cakes perfectly complement spicy foods and are served as an accompaniment to a large variety of dishes, including meat stews and boiled red beans. At dairy meals, mchadi are commonly topped with cheese and, sometimes, tomato slices.
(See also Corn/Cornmeal and Mamaliga)
Georgian C
orn Cakes (Mchadi)
4 medium or 8 small corn cakes
[PAREVE]
2 cups (9.5 ounces) coarse-grind cornmeal, preferably stone-ground
About ½ teaspoon table salt or 1 teaspoon kosher salt
About 1½ cups water
Vegetable oil for frying (optional)
1. In a large bowl, combine the cornmeal and salt. Gradually stir in enough water to form a firm but pliable batter. Let stand at room temperature for 30 minutes, adding a little more water if necessary. With moistened hands, divide the batter in fourths or eighths and shape into ½-inch-thick ovals.
2. Heat a large, heavy skillet over low heat. If using a seasoned skillet, such as a cast-iron one, no oil is necessary; otherwise add a thin layer of oil to prevent sticking. Place the ovals in the skillet, cover, and cook until golden brown and crusty on the bottom, 5 to 8 minutes. Turn, cover, and cook until golden brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Serve warm.
Mechouiya
Mechouiya is a salad or mixture of grilled vegetables, most often including eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes.
Origin: Maghreb
Other names: Arabic: salata mechouiya, salata mishweeye, shlata filfel; French: salade de poivrons grilles.
