My grandmother used to get up at the crack of dawn and start cooking. Now, after making a batch of kreplach (a very small batch) I understand why.
This past Monday was Yom Kippur, Day of Atonement, on which we Jews are sealed into the Book of Life for the following year. It is a solemn day, with appropriately somber restrictions on a few things:
1. No bathing.
2. No wearing leather.
3. No perfume.
4. No sex.
and
5. No food or drink.
This last one is the most commonly associated with the holiday. But, as is traditional, the end of the fast and the end of the holiday (and the sealing of the Book of Life) are celebrated with a big meal. So, what did I decide to do on the afternoon I was fasting? I went to the grocery store and then spent several hours in the kitchen re-creating a favorite food of my trips to my grandmother's table - a staple of Jewish food and one of the most time-consuming foods to make.
If you don't know what kreplach are, take a look:
Now that you've seen them, how do you make them, you ask? Simple: make the filling, make the dough, put the filling in the dough, boil. But as usual, easier said than done. First, the filling (the easy part, at least if you have a food processor). You'll need chicken, onion, salt, pepper, oil, and an egg. Parsley is optional. First, trim, cut up, and boil the chicken. Yes, boil. It's done when it is white all the way through. At the same time, dice and brown the onions. Cook them over medium heat with a little oil until they get nice and soft and brown. When these are ready, throw everything minus the egg into the food processor and process away. Proportions? My grandmother would say "When it's enough." I'll say that you should end up with a flavour that shows the sweetness of the onion, the savoriness of the chicken, a touch of salt to round out the palate, and pepper as a very light, almost citrusy accent. When it tastes right, add the egg and process some more, until it is a coarse paste somewhere between tuna salad and peanut butter. That's done. Make it first because the dough is the trickier part.
Dough: once again, my grandmother would say "When it's enough," in response to any question about measurement. She showed me once and I still couldn't record measurements. So I resorted to looking up a recipe that I will tweak until it feels right. The recipe was:
2 c Flour
2 Eggs
1/2 t Salt
1 T Water
Mix the salt and flour on a board or counter. Make a pile with a well in the middle, into which you add the eggs and water. Mix and knead by hand until the dough is smooth and elastic. Roll flat - the thinner the better. (The more elastic the dough, the thinner you can roll it and have it not break.) Cut into 2-3 inch squares. Once again, not so simple: the success of the kreplach depends on the dough. This time, while they tasted and looked good, the dough was too thick and chewy. I have to experiment to make it lighter and crispier, but yet not bubbly or crispy like a wonton. The dough is a challenge to mix because the egg goes everywhere and you really have to use your hands to corral what amounts to quick-dry cement at first.
Once you get all of the liquid mixed into the flour, you have to knead a ball of sticky goo until it is not so sticky anymore and is a completely homogeneous mass.
Keeping the dough from being too moist while kneading or from drying out while rolling (with the little extra flour you need to prevent it becoming a permanent addition to your countertop) is the biggest challenge, since that's what ultimately determines the texture of the cooked product. 
Presuming you have managed to get the dough rolled out and cut into squares, you then place a little bit of filling in the middle of each square and fold the square into a triangle, sealing in the filling. Then, take the two outermost points of the triangle, fold them around and pinch them together. See the pictures below for what they should look like when done (like really big tortellini.)
Now boil them in water or soup - I used the water in which I cooked the chicken since it is sort of like soup but not enough like soup to keep or eat. Typically they rise to the surface when done, but it usually takes about 20 minutes. You can always resort to the most exact method of testing done-ness: nibble on a corner - if still doughy, cook them longer. They come out looking rather limp, bland, and pale, but we'll get to that.
If you cook them in soup you can then just eat them in soup but I prefer them fried, when they trade their anemic paleness for strength and richness and crunch. Take them out of the broth and drop them into a hot frying pan with a bunch of oil - a quarter-inch or so. (I like putting them into the fridge first as it helps them solidify and not splatter as much when you fry them.) When they're brown and crispy they're done. Mine came out a little chewy. If I find a better dough formula I'll add it here.
At last! Mazel tov and dayenu! Eat them! With a little salt.
