By the second night of Passover, way back in the day, all of the frantic and frenetic Pre Passover cooking and baking had ceased, and any and all of the “not in my kitchen skirmishes had ended. All the commentary regarding, “this is the right recipe or that is not the way to make or bake things”, had found closure, and although it did not last for 40 years, the Buncher/Braff families seemed to be free and the journey from kitchen to table, indeed became an amazing event.
When I was young, the issue at hand was who should actually be responsible for making and baking the Gefilte Fish. The old-school Pesach Seder rules in our house, meant, everything was fresh, nothing sprouting from a jar or box which had already been pre-made. None of those unnecessary things ever had any chance of survival. I say our house because back in the day, it was my mother who handled all of the major Jewish holiday meals. I know it had been before my birth, that this, I AM THE JEWISH HOLIDAY DINNER MAVEN, an edict was put in place because I also know that ever since I was able to remember Jewish holidays, it was a matter of fact that Rena Buncher, was the only person to call the shots.
But the preparation of the Gefilte Fish was never quite written in stone. It seemed that my Grandmother, and her sisters, all had extra special ideas emanating from Braila Romania their place of birth. Tradition, they would argue, oftentimes speaking Yiddish with a few Romanian words thrown in, “tradition is important in the flavors, the aromas, and the eating of Gefilte Fish.” “Anyone can mish mush, mush up, fish, and call it Gefilte Fish, my Grandma Braff, would say, sipping on her Peach Schnapps, our Gefilte Fish, must never be compromised.” To make Gefilte fish, from fish, one must “HUCK,” the fish first. To “HUCK “is to chop and stir chop and stir a very tedious and time-consuming chore. It is also a very laborious bit of labor. The Romanian theory on making Gefilte Fish, it seemed, included, about an hour of steady chopping and stirring followed by more chopping and stirring. My mother ended up doing most of this work, permitting my older sisters to help, every now and then. But if there are too many cooks in the kitchen, as the saying goes…and oftentimes my grandmother would inspect and of course somehow, as in ALWAYS, the chopped pieces never seemed to be small enough. I think I was about 7, when my mother declared, about 2 weeks ahead of time, that from this point forward, her Gefilte Fish recipe would become the official recipe, as her recipe called for about a half hour of “HUCKING THE FISH.” The law had spoken, and the very FINAL WORD had been said.
I remember, when I turned 10, my parents came home from the Giant Eagle Super Market, and when they unpacked the grocery bags, we had something in glass jars called Yehuda Gefilte Fish. A brand-new era of Pesach Seder commenced! Chag Pesach Sameach!
