Noodle Kugel

Everybody’s noodle kugel

Varies in a way

And some taste just as different

As the night is to the day.

 

Most recipes were handed down,

A bit of family lore,

Or found in temple cookbooks,

Which have recipes galore.

 

I tried a few when searching

For the one I’d call my own,

Since the kugels of my grandmas

From my memory have flown.

 

But I hit upon the perfect one

And make it every year.

Not everybody loves it

But each piece will disappear

 

Since whatever’s left, I’ll wrap and freeze

So it won’t go to waste

And then, bit by bit, I’ll eat it

‘Cause it’s made to just my taste.