My memories mingle with the smells and flavors of the moments of preparing the dishes.

My mother had taken up the mantle from her own mother.

I can still see, as a child, that famous carp in a large metal basin, jumping around until my grandmother, armed with a kind of rolling pin, knocked it out!

I also remember, a few decades later, my father meticulously removing the bones from the carp so that my mother could prepare the "Gefilte Fisch".

And of course, my abundant tears when I peeled onions, so that my mother would make "Tsibelles mit eier".

This type of cooking was not part of our daily life; it was reserved for celebrations, all of which, in my memories, were associated with food.

Even matzè still constitutes a true "madeleine de Proust".

You can consult some recipes that populate my memory and that I still enjoy making.