Passover lasts eight days, and you might attend one or even two Seders. But how many matzo breis will you fry?
If your answer is just one, then you’ll probably go for a classic iteration of the matzo-and-egg dish or whichever tried-and-true version your friends and family adore.
However, if there’s room in your life to branch out with a brei, I have a recipe worth buying extra matzos for.
What makes it special is that it satisfies both sweet and savory brei lovers: those who shower on the confectioners’ sugar or maple syrup, and those who prefer it dusted with black pepper and sea salt. And then I take the whole thing one step further by adding chile.
The saltiness comes from feta crumbles that melt into creamy pockets strewn throughout the eggs. Other cheeses — blue cheese, ricotta salata, grated Cheddar or Gruyère — will also work, each lending its character to the dish. Use whichever you like best.
A drizzle of hot honey brings sweetness and delivers the heat. The chile-averse can substitute regular honey, or use a combination of hot and regular for a slower, sweeter burn.
Adding herbs on top of the matzo brei might be this recipe’s most radical, shock-your-bubbe tweak. But I like the verdant freshness that dill imparts, connecting the dish even more vividly to spring. Feel free to substitute another, possibly less-divisive herb like mint, parsley, chives or basil. Grandma will recover.
Although the flavors of this brei may be outside the box, the technique remains thoroughly traditional: Sheets of matzo are soaked in water until bendable and fried in butter until the edges are golden. Then, beaten eggs are added to the hot pan and cooked until set.
The longer you let the matzo soak, and the more you scramble it, the silkier and fluffier the brei becomes, while a quick soak and less agitation makes for a firmer, crunchier meal. Some cooks forgo the soak entirely, or let the brei soak in the eggs, and these methods work very well, too.
After all, matzo brei is as adaptable and forgiving as it is comforting. Which makes me wonder why, since matzo is available all year long, I don’t make it more often. Whether classic or revamped, it’s simply too good a dish to box into eight days.
