Transcription
Interview with Frida Matalon – Thessaloniki (Part 1)
ANITTA PINTO: January 31st, and we are here at Mrs. Frida Matalon’s house to speak with her about the customs that existed before and after the war. First of all, thank you very much for receiving us and giving us your time. Would you like to tell us your mother’s and father’s names and when you were born?
FRIDA MATALON: Of course. I was born on September 4th, 1931 — so you can figure out how old I am.
My mother was Mari Kouné. My father was Eli Kouné, that is, Elias Kouné. I also had an older sister, Mendi, fifteen years older than me, because there had been a brother in between. I was Frida Kouné — later Matalon, of course.
ANITTA PINTO: As a little girl, did your family observe Shabbat? Did you go to the synagogue?
FRIDA MATALON: My parents were not extremely religious, but they definitely kept certain traditions of our community.
My father went to the synagogue on Friday afternoons because it was close to our home. At the time we lived at 18 Aristotelous Street. The small synagogue was across from the Modiano Market, on an upper floor. It wasn’t large.
On Saturdays he went to the big synagogue on Syngrou Street, which was used for major holidays — Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur — and for weddings.
When my grandparents were alive, Shabbat was even more beautiful. The whole family gathered for Saturday lunch — cousins, uncles, aunts. This was while my grandfather, Yontov Saporta, and my grandmother, Mazalto Saporta, were alive.
After my grandfather passed away, things scattered. We moved from 22 Agia Sofia Street — a large five-room apartment — to Aristotelous Street near the small synagogue.
ANITTA PINTO: Did your parents speak Ladino or Greek?
FRIDA MATALON: Ladino, of course. From as long as I can remember, I spoke three languages: Ladino with my grandparents and older relatives, Greek at school, and French at home — the four of us spoke French together.
ANITTA PINTO: Did the community organize celebrations such as Purim or a communal Seder?
FRIDA MATALON: No, everything was done at home with the family.
For Passover, we went to the community store on Komninon Street to buy matzah. It wasn’t boxed like today — it came in large sheets. We carried it home in special chests lined with clean white sheets. It was almost ceremonial.
The community produced the matzah before the war. After the war, boxed matzah began arriving from Israel.
For eight days, there wasn’t a crumb of bread in the house. Only matzah.
We made haminados — eggs boiled for hours with onion skins, oil, vinegar, coffee, salt, and pepper. There was a special pot just for those eggs, always darkened from long boiling over the flame. We boiled many eggs — entire large batches — because when visitors came during Passover, we offered each one an egg.
On the first and second days, the men came in the morning after synagogue to exchange blessings. In the afternoon, the women came. We had a silver tray with special sweets and little spoons. After using the spoon, we placed it in a glass of water.
ANITTA PINTO: What sweets did you make?
FRIDA MATALON: We made boumuelos — like fried dough balls. Each family had its own recipe. We preferred them with syrup rather than honey.
We had a special frying pan with holes. After the war, we couldn’t find one. On a trip to Israel, I bought one at the market — I still have it.
For food, we cooked lamb, usually with peas, sometimes with potatoes. We also made arodeadikos — eggplant with minced meat — a very common and delicious dish among Thessaloniki housewives.
ANITTA PINTO: Did the customs change after the war?
FRIDA MATALON: Before the war there were many families. After the war, sadly, many relatives were no longer there. Celebrations were held in a much smaller circle.
We always went to the synagogue for Yom Kippur. My parents stayed there from morning until night. When they returned home after the fast, we first drank a glass of lemonade, then vermicelli soup, then chicken with okra, and finally dessert.
We also made a wonderful sweet called toupisti — dough on top and bottom, walnuts in the middle, soaked in syrup. It wasn’t for Passover because it contained flour. It’s somewhat like finikia, but richer with walnuts.
My Christian classmates loved it. When they came to the house, they would always ask, “Don’t you have that sweet of yours?”
It truly was delicious.
Later in the interview, Zak Fransais describes his family's flight from Larissa to Kaisariani with false identities when the Italians surrendered the city to the Germans. He analyzes the reasons why the Germans focused on Greece, explaining that this was where the intellectual leadership of Sephardic Jewry was located, with important Kabbalah centers and the authors of fundamental Jewish works such as the “Shulchan Aruch”. The interview also explores the post-war diaspora of Greek Jews, particularly in America, where Zakos lived and worked from 1984. He describes organized Jewish life in New York, the various versions of Judaism (Orthodox, Conservative, Reform) and the deep religious education he gave his children, with his eldest son becoming a rabbi. The narrative captures the transition from traditional Jewish life in pre-war Greece to the modern diaspora and the maintenance of religious identity abroad.
A personal testimony by Frinda Matalon, born in Thessaloniki in 1931, recalling Jewish life in the city before and after the war. Raised in a Sephardic family that spoke Ladino, French, and Greek, she remembers a vibrant communal world centered around family gatherings, neighborhood synagogues, and deeply rooted traditions. She describes Shabbat observance, the large prewar synagogues of Thessaloniki, and the strong extended-family bonds that shaped her childhood. Passover, in particular, stands out in her memory — from collecting handmade matzah at the communal store to preparing traditional dishes such as haminados, boumuelos, lamb with peas, and syrup-soaked pastries. The rituals surrounding food, hospitality, and synagogue visits formed an essential part of communal identity. After the war, with the loss of much of the Jewish population, celebrations became smaller and more intimate. Yet the customs endured within the home — from Yom Kippur break-fast meals to beloved family desserts like toupisti, remembered fondly even by her Christian school friends. Her testimony offers a vivid portrait of Sephardic life in Thessaloniki, preserving memories of language, ritual, resilience, and the continuity of tradition across generations.
Transcription
Interview with Frida Matalon – Thessaloniki (Part 1)
ANITTA PINTO: January 31st, and we are here at Mrs. Frida Matalon’s house to speak with her about the customs that existed before and after the war. First of all, thank you very much for receiving us and giving us your time. Would you like to tell us your mother’s and father’s names and when you were born?
FRIDA MATALON: Of course. I was born on September 4th, 1931 — so you can figure out how old I am.
My mother was Mari Kouné. My father was Eli Kouné, that is, Elias Kouné. I also had an older sister, Mendi, fifteen years older than me, because there had been a brother in between. I was Frida Kouné — later Matalon, of course.
ANITTA PINTO: As a little girl, did your family observe Shabbat? Did you go to the synagogue?
FRIDA MATALON: My parents were not extremely religious, but they definitely kept certain traditions of our community.
My father went to the synagogue on Friday afternoons because it was close to our home. At the time we lived at 18 Aristotelous Street. The small synagogue was across from the Modiano Market, on an upper floor. It wasn’t large.
On Saturdays he went to the big synagogue on Syngrou Street, which was used for major holidays — Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur — and for weddings.
When my grandparents were alive, Shabbat was even more beautiful. The whole family gathered for Saturday lunch — cousins, uncles, aunts. This was while my grandfather, Yontov Saporta, and my grandmother, Mazalto Saporta, were alive.
After my grandfather passed away, things scattered. We moved from 22 Agia Sofia Street — a large five-room apartment — to Aristotelous Street near the small synagogue.
ANITTA PINTO: Did your parents speak Ladino or Greek?
FRIDA MATALON: Ladino, of course. From as long as I can remember, I spoke three languages: Ladino with my grandparents and older relatives, Greek at school, and French at home — the four of us spoke French together.
ANITTA PINTO: Did the community organize celebrations such as Purim or a communal Seder?
FRIDA MATALON: No, everything was done at home with the family.
For Passover, we went to the community store on Komninon Street to buy matzah. It wasn’t boxed like today — it came in large sheets. We carried it home in special chests lined with clean white sheets. It was almost ceremonial.
The community produced the matzah before the war. After the war, boxed matzah began arriving from Israel.
For eight days, there wasn’t a crumb of bread in the house. Only matzah.
We made haminados — eggs boiled for hours with onion skins, oil, vinegar, coffee, salt, and pepper. There was a special pot just for those eggs, always darkened from long boiling over the flame. We boiled many eggs — entire large batches — because when visitors came during Passover, we offered each one an egg.
On the first and second days, the men came in the morning after synagogue to exchange blessings. In the afternoon, the women came. We had a silver tray with special sweets and little spoons. After using the spoon, we placed it in a glass of water.
ANITTA PINTO: What sweets did you make?
FRIDA MATALON: We made boumuelos — like fried dough balls. Each family had its own recipe. We preferred them with syrup rather than honey.
We had a special frying pan with holes. After the war, we couldn’t find one. On a trip to Israel, I bought one at the market — I still have it.
For food, we cooked lamb, usually with peas, sometimes with potatoes. We also made arodeadikos — eggplant with minced meat — a very common and delicious dish among Thessaloniki housewives.
ANITTA PINTO: Did the customs change after the war?
FRIDA MATALON: Before the war there were many families. After the war, sadly, many relatives were no longer there. Celebrations were held in a much smaller circle.
We always went to the synagogue for Yom Kippur. My parents stayed there from morning until night. When they returned home after the fast, we first drank a glass of lemonade, then vermicelli soup, then chicken with okra, and finally dessert.
We also made a wonderful sweet called toupisti — dough on top and bottom, walnuts in the middle, soaked in syrup. It wasn’t for Passover because it contained flour. It’s somewhat like finikia, but richer with walnuts.
My Christian classmates loved it. When they came to the house, they would always ask, “Don’t you have that sweet of yours?”
It truly was delicious.