On the Matzo Ball Trail

Although my married life has been spent in suburbs--first suburban Washington D.C., now suburban Boston (I can't exactly count Lubbock, Texas, because the whole town is only 200,000, so the concept of "suburb" doesn't really apply)--my husband and I have always prided ourselves on learning our way around the "big city" part. (Many people don't do this, by the way. I was always amazed how many people in suburban Virginia assured me that they "never" went into the District itself, as though I were supposed to be impressed.)

Our forays usually, though not always, involve me driving and Jim navigating, at least for the first couple of years in a location. Until I really know the lay of the land, I'm not so good with the maps--I have this bad habit of pointing to where he should be turning instead of giving verbal commands. Which, if you've ever driven, you learn isn't very effective, since I hope you're keeping your eyes on the road, not looking at the passenger next to you. By now, however, he trusts me enough with the map to let me take over the navigation once in awhile.

So, we've been conquering the streets of Boston by car, bit by bit. Our latest triumph has been finding the most direct route to from Lexington to Brookline (that's immediately adjacent to Boston, for those of you reading this outside the area). Specifically, we've been discovering Coolidge Corner, which has both a really cool independent movie theatre and some great restaurants and shops. This morning we ate at Zaftigs, a wonderful "new-Jewish"-style deli (i.e., they serve bacon made of pork, not turkey). We've eaten there several times now and although I try something different every time, I never fail to get the chicken soup with matzo balls.

The matzo balls are the only restaurant version to compete with my mother's--light, fluffy, generous in size. (Full disclosure: my husband actually makes better chicken soup than my mom--sorry, Mom!--but her matzo balls are unbeatable.) Plus, an extra one costs only 50 cents, which is almost unheard of in the deli world. I'd say a buck-fifty is the usual cost at most delis, and their matzo balls are never this good.

On the other hand, Zaftigs' sandwiches violate the "never eat anything bigger than your head" rule, so be prepared to take some home. And on the weekend, be sure to come early (before 10 a.m.) or late (after 3 p.m.) or you're in for a long, long wait.