I call my grandmother Ruth to say hello. She’s in Queens. And I’m in Los Angeles.
Since I moved away we’ve gotten in the habit of talking numerous times a week. Sometimes we’re in the rhythm of a check-in everyday. I love these phone-calls. Selfishly, they often take me away from my daily woes, my stresses, the unfortunate experience at work or the frustrating traffic I’m sitting in. I learn about her life and how she handled herself in difficult situations. I hear her strength, and I love making her laugh.
While I always wish I could be at her kitchen table, talking over tea, I am so grateful for our conversations. On our most recent call, amidst talking about the anxiety I am feeling around my work being postponed during this pandemic, and how we both benefit from only a healthy dose of the news each day, she mentioned how it’s almost time to make her matzo balls and her famous kosher for Passover sponge cake.
I want your matzo balls! Could you mail me some across the country!? And my grandmother Ruth, of 90 years, suggested we do a cooking lesson, over the phone, maybe even the “video way” if she can figure out where the green button is.
And so, I now eagerly anticipate cooking with my grandmother, in preparation for Passover, in preparation for a Seder-over-Skype, in preparation for how one day, I will pass down, pass over, this recipe and these stories, to those who come after me.