“Pat the baby and put it under the blanket,” says Ruthie, one of the dozen Slovak women crowded around the long wooden table. A white cotton table cloth lightly covers the assortment of lumps, all of them situated into misshapen rows and tucked beneath the make-shift blanket. The women nonchalantly toss yellowish chunks of dough between their arthritis-ridden hands, kneading and squeezing the egg-flour mixture until it’s smooth and creaseless. As they work, chatter fills the room. Conversations carry on mostly in English, but sometimes – when topics turn juicy – they slip into Slovak before continuing their rapid-speed banter. Once the dough is deemed acceptable, it receives a loving pat and is slid gently under the cloth, joining the other “babies” until it’s time for step two of noodle night.

An atypical scene for most children and adolescents, noodle night was nothing out of the ordinary for me. A member of Holy Emmanuel Lutheran Church since I was born, being surrounded by a sea of hard-working Slovak men and women - each as attentive and loving toward me as my own grandparents (who lead the church's Men’s Club and Priscilla Guild, naturally) - was normal. So when noodle-making nights rolled around, it was only natural for me to want to join in on the fun.

While boredom may have plagued other children, finding the right amount of flour to counter stickiness yet still allow for a supple dough baby intrigued me. I loved watching the women work, their thick knuckles pressing into the dough with precision and rhythm. They moved quickly and instinctively, feeling the dough as they worked out its cracks and lumps. Just like skilled sculptors, the church women knew their medium and had long ago mastered the craft of noodle making. Before long, the 36 dozen eggs and 54 pounds of flour became countless rows of perfectly smooth dough babies, ready to be rolled out and sliced into noodles of all varieties.

Perhaps my years of helping shape, roll, crank and dry dough into noodles spoiled me; transformed me into a noodle-snob. Even so, anyone who has sampled homemade noodles knows there is no contest when it comes to their superior taste and texture over store-bought counterparts. Since only the heartiest of soups can overcome the deep chill of a Minnesota winter, and because your refrigerator can’t house all that leftover Thanksgiving turkey for much longer, I believe now is the perfect time to share this homemade turkey soup (and noodle) recipe. If you haven’t tossed the bird out yet, invest a couple more hours in the kitchen and be prepared to enjoy some savory soup as your reward.

Noodles
2 c. flour
4 eggs
1 tsp. salt

In a bowl, pour 2 cups of flour and hollow out the middle. Add the eggs and salt. Stir until well mixed (use a wooden spoon, not a mixer). If the dough sticks to your hands, add a little flour. If it’s too dry, add a little oil or water. Knead the mixture until it’s a smooth lump of dough with no visible cracks. Let it sit for 20 minutes. Then, roll it out as flat as you can (approximately ¼ inch thick) and let it sit for another 15 minutes. Cut it into noodles (the length and width can be as you desire for a soup). Once sliced, let the noodles dry overnight.

Turkey Soup
Left-over cooked carcass from a 15-20 lb. turkey
5 qts. water
1 c. chopped celery
1 c. chopped onion
7 chicken bouillon cubes
1 tbsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1 bay leaf
1/4 c. butter
1/2 c. chopped parsley
1 c. fresh, frozen or canned peas
1 c. sliced carrots
4 c. homemade egg noodles
1/4 c. all-purpose flour

In an 8 quart kettle or Dutch oven, place the leftover turkey carcass, water, celery, onion, bouillon cubes, salt, pepper and bay leaf. Heat to boiling. Once bubbling, lower the heat, cover and simmer for 1 hour. Remove carcass and let the broth cool. Add parsley, peas and carrots to the broth. Heat to boiling. Then reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes or until vegetables are just tender.

Remove meat from the now-cool turkey carcass and add it to the soup. Discard bones. Heat soup to boiling. Once it is bubbling, add the noodles and cook (uncovered) for 10 minutes. While the soup is cooking, melt the butter in a small pan and, once melted, add the flour. Cook over low heat while stirring constantly until flour is browned. Stir into the boiling soup. When the soup returns to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer 5 minutes. Serve hot.