My Grandma's Home-Made Noodles

 

Noodles may be too loose a term.  They might better be compared to what we know as fettuccine.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In the early years, Israel had very little.  Certainly, our little village had very little.  The roads were unpaved, and the market consisted of a collection of tents and corrugated aluminum shacks.  Primitive.  Remarkably, that market still exists to this day.  My grandmother was charged with the task of taking care of the household, including shopping and cooking.  Periodically, she would buy flour from the market, and would make pasta by hand.  She would mix the flour and the eggs, add some salt, then knead the mass until she was satisfied, then roll it out on our heavy kitchen table that had been doused with flour, and roll out the dough to a desired thickness.  She then would cut long strips of the rolled out dough, and take large handfuls of the strips of dough, shake them out gently, and lay them on top of the bed to dry out.  She then would cook the pasta and top it off with a variety of foods.  Heaven has nothing on those noodles!  I can still taste their heavenly flavor.