Quotes About Matzoh

Everything my mother made had to cook for 80 hours, and when she made matzoh balls she didn't know fluffy. Everything sank.

This, said Mother, as she handed him a piece of dry, tasteless matzoh, is the bread of our affliction. Where, young Kugel wondered, is the seven-layer cake of our salvation? Where is the muffin of our mirth? Where is our no-longer-reduced-to-jelly doughnut?