The Noodle Kugel: A very short story

The Noodle Kugel


I had a funny thing happen around a noodle kugel that a friend named Elsa made for Mina to eat at Thanksgiving time. Mina had some of the kugel (she had eaten some the day before as Elsa had brought it all the way from Oceanside, Ca.) after I left for home). Mina had what was left put in a locked refrigerator at the nursing home but when she asked for it, I was going to eat some too, it was gone. This also happened previously with some probiotic yogurt I had brought. A male nurse who seemed to be in charge of the Frig encouraged me to talk to the Director of the Home because he was under the impression that someone ate our food and this was wrong. Explaining to this very non Jewish guy(The Director) what a noodle kugel was not easy. He asked if he could replace it, like go out and buy one. Understand, we are in the middle of the Mexican American ghetto which is where this nursing home happens to be located. I said "You can't replace a noodle kugel, it is not replaceable. He said is it llike Ramen noodles?

I said "Kugel meanss pudding in Yiddish". The Director looked at me blankly. " It is hard to describe" I said "but there is farmer's cheese in it". Oy Vey. What could I say? Getting to the point, the Director said Mina had to put a date on the food she put in the Frig in order to expect it to be there as the staff is instructed to throw it out if it doesn't have a date. I wondered but not outloud why the staff didn't seem to know this and 'au contrar' seemed to think other staff were eating food meant for the residents. I told him to call Mina and tell her this information about the dating of the food. He could have gone down to her room in the first place but did not. Makes me wonder about those like Mina who are pretty much bed bound. Mina listened and admitted she had not dated the food.

Anyway, we both ended up getting some mediocre tuna fish sandwiches to eat as a mid-day snack. It was a poor substitute for the vision and taste I imagined of that noodle kugel Mina's friend Elsa had made. When I got home, I felt deprived so I bought a sweet at a coffee house and went home. Here I have lost 24 lbs. since Mina's fall, and now I think I am off the wagon once again. Oh, no, that damn noodle kugel. But it seemed so right, the way it looked in my mind with a sweet brown and yellow crust, yummy egg noodles and farmer's cheese and brown sugar oozing about. My Mother's face was watching me think about the noodle kugel and I know she smiled knowingly as I ate a pumpkin slice instead along with a cup of coffee.

Such are my days. Learn something every day at the nursing home.

Sharon