1:02 a.m. Now I've gone and done it. It just felt like chicken soup today, and so I dragged myself into the kitchen and I made some. Plus a few matzo balls, for good measure.

And what makes a chicken-soup kind of day? Why nasty weather, of course! If you watched the Golden Globes last night, you saw the California equivalent of the ravages of winter -- yes, that misty spritz was rain. And we had a little more today, and we have a little more even now as I type.

Brrrr. Gotta warm up the old cockles.

The matzo balls are nothing short of amazing. They are light and fluffy and they plump when you cook them ... and then they stay exactly the way they look in the picture for as long as you own them.

I'm not Jewish and I did not grow up with these beauties popping out of big pots on the stove, and so they are still a thing of delight and amazement to me. How can something that is so simple to make, something that consists of such humble ingredients ... how can it stand up and remain perfectly fluffy yet firm through endless reheatings?

It's a mystery. And yes, I should really post the recipe and share the joy. But I'm too tired. Too full of soup. Do people really read the recipes on these pages? Is it bad literary form to take up valuable metaphoric space and just list ingredients?

Who's in charge around here?

I could tell you to run out to the store and buy a nice box of Manischewitz matzo ball mix and follow the instructions and you'll pretty much end up with a pot full of dumplings, just like in the picture. I could also amend and append and maybe I will -- tomorrow.

That's right: I'm cheating. I made the soup from a mix (but I really really improved it with real veggies). Ditto the matzo. Mix. But you wouldn't know unless I confessed, and I'm Catholic, so what else would you expect.

Let's see. Three-oh-seven in the morning. Brain has turned to mush. Tiny rain is still walking across my roof. I'll reheat this in the morning and see if I can't stick something clever in here somewhere so you'll think this is homemade.

Yeah, I know it's cheating ... but if I keep my mouth shut, no one will know the difference.