Tuesday, Dec. 21 — I'm feeling especially good about my quest for the best matzo ball soup in Pikesville.

That's because I now feel I'm doing a public service by directing folks through the delis and restaurants that offer many Jewish favorites— including bagels and lox, reuben sandwiches and sushi (yes, sushi). My search is cutting through all those distractions, focusing on two missions: Finding the soup. Tasting the soup.

Gourmet Again, at 3713 Old Court Road in Pikesville, near the old post office, didn't make it easy yesterday. There's the bakery right up front, with beautiful, professionally-designed displays to help you get lost. Cookies from ... where? Chocolate, too? And what are those powdered-sugar things ... nevermind. I moved on to the tiny aisles of gourmet foods, that offered from jars of exotic olives to mango salsa.

Snap out of it. Where's the soup?

Was it on their impressive salad bar? When I had called ahead, someone said they "serve it every day." But it wasn't on the bar. I must have misunderstood. On Monday the hot soups of the day were cream of mushroom and something else.

Ok. So it might be at the deli in back. The friendly clerk there said no, it was over to the right, pointing to right side of the store near the catering office.

So it's here, good news. I still wasn't over my disappointment on Sunday that a small deli called Knish Shoppe, with a mini-sushi bar inside, didn't actually carry matzo ball soup all the time, but only when they have matzo balls in stock. Even then, you have to actually add the matzo ball to their chicken soup, which they sell in a frozen state.

After visiting the Knish Shoppe, I decided on the the first rule of this contest: To qualify for judging, the matzo balls must be sold, already in the soup. Sorry, chicken soup, broth and chicken noodle.

Back to Gourmet Again, I searched through the soups in the freezer, noting that the closest thing there was chicken noodle. Ugh not again. So I went back to the deli.

The friendly lady walked with me, found the soup and told me, "I said not in the freezer." Oh. Ok. It's in the neighboring refrigerator case, along with some vegetarian split pea soup, which I also bought.

Note to "Matzo Blog" followers: If you visit Gourmet Again, remember, the soup's on the right-hand wall of the store — but not in the freezer. When you enter the door, look immediately right. Do not be distracted by the pretty things. This tip will be a time-saver.

Tomorrow I plan to taste this soup, labelled Chicken Matzoh Soup. That's the third spelling I've seen of the soup. There have also been "matzah" at Miller's Delicatessen and "matzo" at Suburban House.

I'm going with the "matzo" spelling for the title of this blog, only because I once bought a box of the soup, planning to make it at home. I never made it, but that's the spelling that was on the box.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of the Gourmet Again container (if it's not there yet, it's because I'm downloading it. Just wait a couple of minutes.) Check back tomorrow to see — is it better than Suburban House's?

Also, could you help me out? Visit one of these places after me, and tell me what you think. It's cold outside. Soup time.

P.S. One shopper at Gourmet Again said her sister really likes the soup at Accents Grille on Smith Ave. That's on my list so far, along with Edmart.

Here's the first blog entry:

Sunday, Dec. 19 — I had my first matzo ball soup in Austin, Texas, back in 1992 or so, when I worked at The San Antonio Light daily newspaper.

My friend Hollis insisted that we visit the restaurant that sold it, and it was well worth the visit. Flash forward to 2007, and I'd have the chicken-broth based soup, nearly every week at Double T Diner in Annapolis, as it was close to my work as assistant city editor of The Capital daily newspaper.

But what I tasted Sunday at Suburban House is far superior to both. And what I tasted at Miller's Delicatessen today — not so much.

I also tried Knish Shop at 506 Reisterstown Road. But at that deli/ sushi shop, it ended up being 'no soup for me.' Sure, they have a large freezer full of quarts of soups, including chicken soup. Customers take it home and heat it up. But to get matzo ball soup, you had to order the matzo balls separately. Unfortunately, there were none available Sunday, so I went away empty-handed.

The clerk said sometimes they have them, sometimes they don't.

But minutes later, at Suburban House Restaurant, I had found one.

A waitress brought a large bowl of steaming broth, laced with wavy noodles, bright orange slices of carrots, and what look like handpicked pieces of white-meat chicken. And the spoon was placed inside a perfectly-shaped, fluffy matzo ball. Every bit of it looked appetizing — the delicate beige color of the noodles, the light yellow of the broth, and the white chicken.

The clean, orderly restaurant environment made it a nice experience. The soup was delicious. And I will return for more, especially now that we're getting into the cold of winter.

Harriet Miller, a regular at Suburban House, told me I've already found the best matzo soup in the area. "It's very good. It's delicious," she said.

It was at about that time when owner Joseph Stowe found out I'm from Patch. And then out came a dish they call Chicken in a Pot. It has matzo ball soup, plus a half chicken, and kreplach—a beef wonton. "It's an entire meal," Stowe said.

Maybe two, actually.

Delicious. I ended up taking home all my leftovers.

But earlier Sunday at Miller's Delicatessen, the Matzah ball soup (it's often spelled different ways, at different restaurants) was hot, and a deep yellow. The matzah ball had a grey cast, was quite lumpy, and sank to the bottom of the plastic storage container that it comes in. But hey, it's a deli, right?

Not so fast. It's also a liquor store, with selections of wine as you walk in, a cooler of beer, and some liquor over by the deli meats section. Here you can order breakfast, lunch and dinner and sit in 1950s soda-shop seating.

Service is cafeteria style, and when orders are ready, the cook calls them out to the patron. Some of the orders being shouted were "whitefish platter," "reuben," grilled cheese, and "over hard, home fries."

There were a range of customers rushing up to the counter to get their food. One senior citizen picked up trash off the floor, while a young father walked laps around the seating area, pushing his baby in a stroller.

Like I said, my soup was served in a plastic storage bowl. And the spoons, well, I had to fish for one out of the grungy plastic silverware container set on the chaotic and grimy self-serve soda counter.

The first spoon I picked up had a hair on it, as well as some sort of wood splinter.

Ok, maybe the test was ruined for me at that point. Nonetheless, I did eat some of the soup. The matzah ball was actually pretty tasty, and the broth rather sweet. But it didn't look appetizing, especially the fat gleaming on the surface.

Some tips if you go to Miller's: Don't forget to pick up a tray before you order. And, try not to ask too many questions. They seem way too busy to stop and answer. And this is one of those places that seems to have a large number of regulars who know exactly what they want and have learned to order quickly.

If you've read this far, you deserve the tip I'm about to give you.

There's also a deli at Suburban House, and there they offer a must-try white fish salad: a sweet, mild delicacy that is, in my opinion, superior to any tuna salad.

It's so good, "We actually ship it to New York," Stowe said.

I'll be trying some more matzo ball soups in Pikesville—EdMart, Gourmet Again and Accents, hopefully this week. So check back on The Matzo Blog.



I had my first matzo ball soup in Austin, Texas, back in 1992 or so, when I worked at The San Antonio Light daily newspaper.

My friend Hollis insisted that we visit the restaurant that sold it, and it was well worth the visit. Flash forward to 2007, and I'd have the chicken-broth based soup, nearly every week at Double T Diner in Annapolis, as it was close to my work as assistant city editor of The Capital daily newspaper.

But what I tasted Sunday at Suburban House is far superior to both. And what I tasted at Miller's Delicatessen today — not so much.

I also tried Knish Shop at 506 Reisterstown Road. But at that deli/ sushi shop, it ended up being 'no soup for me.' Sure, they have a large freezer full of quarts of soups, including chicken soup. Customers take it home and heat it up. But to get matzo ball soup, you had to order the matzo balls separately. Unfortunately, there were none available Sunday, so I went away empty-handed.

The clerk said sometimes they have them, sometimes they don't.

But minutes later, at Suburban House Restaurant, I had found one.

A waitress brought a large bowl of steaming broth, laced with wavy noodles, bright orange slices of carrots, and what look like handpicked pieces of white-meat chicken. And the spoon was placed inside a perfectly-shaped, fluffy matzo ball. Every bit of it looked appetizing — the delicate beige color of the noodles, the light yellow of the broth, and the white chicken.

The clean, orderly restaurant environment made it a nice experience. The soup was delicious. And I will return for more, especially now that we're getting into the cold of winter.

Harriet Miller, a regular at Suburban House, told me I've already found the best matzo soup in the area. "It's very good. It's delicious," she said.

It was at about that time when owner Joseph Stowe found out I'm from Patch. And then out came a dish they call Chicken in a Pot. It has matzo ball soup, plus a half chicken, and kreplach—a beef wonton. "It's an entire meal," Stowe said.

Maybe two, actually.

Delicious. I ended up taking home all my leftovers.

But earlier Sunday at Miller's Delicatessen, the Matzah ball soup (it's often spelled different ways, at different restaurants) was hot, and a deep yellow. The matzah ball had a grey cast, was quite lumpy, and sank to the bottom of the plastic storage container that it comes in. But hey, it's a deli, right?

Not so fast. It's also a liquor store, with selections of wine as you walk in, a cooler of beer, and some liquor over by the deli meats section. Here you can order breakfast, lunch and dinner and sit in 1950s soda-shop seating.

Service is cafeteria style, and when orders are ready, the cook calls them out to the patron. Some of the orders being shouted were "whitefish platter," "reuben," grilled cheese, and "over hard, home fries."

There were a range of customers rushing up to the counter to get their food. One senior citizen picked up trash off the floor, while a young father walked laps around the seating area, pushing his baby in a stroller.

Like I said, my soup was served in a plastic storage bowl. And the spoons, well, I had to fish for one out of the grungy plastic silverware container set on the chaotic and grimy self-serve soda counter.

The first spoon I picked up had a hair on it, as well as some sort of wood splinter.

Ok, maybe the test was ruined for me at that point. Nonetheless, I did eat some of the soup. The matzah ball was actually pretty tasty, and the broth rather sweet. But it didn't look appetizing, especially the fat gleaming on the surface.

Some tips if you go to Miller's: Don't forget to pick up a tray before you order. And, try not to ask too many questions. They seem way too busy to stop and answer. And this is one of those places that seems to have a large number of regulars who know exactly what they want and have learned to order quickly.

If you've read this far, you deserve the tip I'm about to give you.

There's also a deli at Suburban House, and there they offer a must-try white fish salad: a sweet, mild delicacy that is, in my opinion, superior to any tuna salad.

It's so good, "We actually ship it to New York," Stowe said.

I'll be trying some more matzo ball soups in Pikesville—EdMart, Gourmet Again and Accents, hopefully this week. So check back on The Matzo Blog.