Memories
Of the chicken soup we ate
Misty golden-coloured memories,
Of the “weigh” we were!
Too schmaltzy?
How is it that an entire nation has taken the lowly chicken under its wing? Chicken – especially chicken soup – is arguably the definitive Jewish food. Much more than just a heimish staple for a cold, winter night, it has become a loving source of memories, laughter and yes, tears.
“Have your soup now. Cry later”
In Mother’s Love and Chicken Soup, Chava Willig Levy remembers her beloved mother and the lifelong lesson she learned from her – and passed on to her children. It happened on Friday night back in 1929 when her mother was six, youngest in a family of 10. “Everything was fine until her mother brought in the chicken soup. Somehow, by accident, Imma didn’t get her portion. Quietly, she started to cry and a bowl was immediately brought to her. But Imma was inconsolable. When she continued to weep, her sister, our Aunt Lilly, said, ‘Listen, little one, have your soup while it’s hot; you can always cry later.’” Levy says her mother adopted that philosophy throughout her life. “Have your soup now. Cry later.” Make someone’s life better now; there will be time for tears another time.
In the Jewish Penicillin Exchange: Memories of Chicken Soup, there’s a delightful discussion about the ingredients that bubbies USED to include in their soup. Russ “Yussele” Goldberg remembers the unlaid eggs (which were included with the birds) and especially the chicken “fees” (feet) that his bubbie would cook with the soup. “I guess today’s butchers have found something profitable to do with the feet, egg sack, and other parts that are no longer included when we buy a chicken. It’s too bad though. I’m sure these extra parts added a special flavour to that soup. That’s probably why no soup I’ve eaten in the last 40 years or so compares with the memory of that soup – or do things just taste better in memory?”
Do they? What is it about chicken soup that triggers tears, smiles and memories? Nancy Curran is a brain injury survivor who writes about the mysteries of the mind for lay readers. The olfactory nerve, key to the sense of smell, is located very close in the brain to the amygdala, the area that processes emotions and emotional memories, and the hippocampus, which plays a role in the memory process. Because of this proximity in the brain, some researchers believe there is a strong link between smells and memory. Others suggest that the sense of smell is the first to mature in humans. Other senses then become dominant, but those early connections between smell and memory survive.
The smell of chicken soup doesn’t only stir up tears. It can crack a smile, too. A story is told that “the fabulously wealthy banker Baron von Rothschild was travelling through the countryside and stopped for breakfast at a little deli. The soup was absolutely delicious. When he finished, the waiter brought him the bill. Rothschild was stunned: ‘$100 for a bowl of chicken soup,’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s impossible. Is chicken soup so rare in these parts?’ ‘No,’ replied the waiter, ‘but Rothschilds are.’”
Somebody living at 527 West 110th St. in Manhattan must have really, really loved chicken soup. So much so that he or she had gargoyles carved onto the exterior of the building depicting the story of chicken soup. Look closely and you can see one gargoyle has the recipe, one the bowl, another the chicken, while a fourth enjoys his soup:
What’s the right time for chicken soup? According to Carole King, anytime. In Chicken Soup with Rice, she takes us on a brothy voyage around the calendar starting with:
In January it’s so nice/
While slipping on the sliding ice/
To sip hot chicken soup with rice/
Sipping once, sipping twice/
Sipping chicken soup with rice.
Let’s close with the sage words of a certain mythical milkman:
Tevye: As the good book says, when a poor man eats a chicken, one of them is sick.
Mendel: Where does the book say that?
Tevye: All right, all right, it doesn’t exactly say that, but someplace it has something about a chicken!
