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Sweet Noodle Kugel — Sylvia’s Recipe, the One That Straddles the Line Between Side Dish and Dessert and Doesn’t Care Which Side It Falls On

The seniors graduated yesterday. I stood in the gymnasium — which smelled, as it always smells, of floor polish and ambition — and watched one hundred and forty-two eighteen-year-olds receive their diplomas. Twelve of them were my students. Three of them came to find me afterward to say thank you, which is a better ratio than most years and a reminder that teaching is a profession built on delayed gratification. The thank-yous come later, sometimes years later, sometimes never. You teach anyway. You teach because the books matter, because close reading matters, because a seventeen-year-old who learns to see beneath the surface of a sentence will eventually learn to see beneath the surface of everything.

I made kugel for the English department graduation lunch. Noodle kugel — Sylvia's recipe, sweet with raisins and cinnamon, the kind that straddles the line between side dish and dessert and doesn't care which side it falls on. Helen Marcowitz ate two pieces and said, "How is it possible that noodles and cottage cheese can make a person this happy?" I said, "It's the cinnamon." It is not the cinnamon. It is the memory baked into every layer — Sylvia's kitchen, the Grand Concourse, the smell of something sweet in a world that was not always sweet.

Marvin has been helping me grade final exams, by which I mean he sits in his recliner and reads them aloud in ridiculous voices while I mark them at the dining room table. He does the voices of students who write "In my personal opinion, I believe that Fitzgerald..." by adopting the tone of a news anchor, and I laugh so hard I have to put down my red pen. This is his contribution to education. It is not insignificant.

The blog readership is growing. I posted about kugel this week — about how kugel is the Ashkenazi equivalent of a hug, how it is the dish you bring to someone who needs comfort and doesn't want to admit it. A reader named Martha from Philadelphia wrote to say she made the recipe and it tasted "like being wrapped in a blanket." This is the correct response to kugel. Martha understands. I may send her rugelach.

June is arriving. The house will be quieter without the rhythm of school. Marvin and I will settle into summer — later dinners, longer evenings, the garden that he tends and I ignore because my agriculture begins and ends at the stove. He grows tomatoes. I make sauce. This is our division of labor, negotiated over three decades, and it works because marriage is a series of negotiations that you stop noticing once you get them right.

I wrote about kugel this week — about comfort and the people who receive it without asking — and naturally the only thing left to do was make one. This is Sylvia’s recipe, my mother-in-law’s, the one I have been making for thirty years while Marvin tends his tomatoes and I tend my stove. It is the dish I would bring Martha from Philadelphia if she were my neighbor, and since she is not, I will send her the instructions instead.

Sweet Noodle Kugel (Sylvia’s Recipe)

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 12 oz wide egg noodles
  • 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus more for the pan
  • 4 large eggs
  • 2 cups full-fat cottage cheese
  • 1 cup sour cream
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, divided
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 3/4 cup golden raisins
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar (for topping)

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 350°F. Generously butter a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
  2. Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the egg noodles until just shy of al dente, about 1 to 2 minutes less than the package directs — they will continue cooking in the oven. Drain well and transfer to a large mixing bowl. Toss immediately with the melted butter so they don’t stick.
  3. Make the custard. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, cottage cheese, sour cream, 3/4 cup sugar, vanilla extract, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, and salt until smooth and well combined.
  4. Combine. Pour the custard mixture over the buttered noodles. Add the raisins and fold everything together gently until the noodles are evenly coated.
  5. Fill and top. Transfer the mixture to the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer. In a small bowl, stir together the remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, then sprinkle evenly over the top.
  6. Bake. Bake uncovered for 50 to 55 minutes, until the top is deep golden and set at the center — a slight jiggle is fine, but it should not slosh. If the top is browning too quickly after 35 minutes, tent loosely with foil.
  7. Rest before serving. Let the kugel rest for at least 15 minutes before cutting. It can be served warm or at room temperature. It is, if anything, better the next day.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 43g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg

Ruth Feldman
About the cook who shared this
Ruth Feldman
Week 7 of Ruth’s 30-year story · Oceanside, New York
Ruth is a sixty-nine-year-old retired English teacher from Long Island, a Jewish grandmother of four, and the keeper of her family's Ashkenazi recipes — brisket, matzo ball soup, challah, and a noodle kugel that has caused actual arguments at family gatherings. She lost her husband Marvin to early-onset Alzheimer's and now cooks his favorite meals for the grandchildren, because the food remembers even when the people cannot.

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