Boba's Chicken Soup |
Growing up, my mum spent each Friday night with her grandparents, watching Boba prepare the Sabbath meal, which included a large vat of soup. Maybe that week it would be vegetable soup or her signature borscht, but nothing beat the labour of love that was Boba’s chicken soup.
Like the majority of Ashkenazi Jewish cooking, my Boba’s chicken soup involved exclusively boiling the ingredients, and a lack of seasonings. The salty rich flavour was all the soup needed, and in the nature of its simple ingredients, could be assembled the same way during whatever walk of life you might find yourself in. What some might consider a struggle food from the simplicity or cheap ingredients, Boba’s chicken soup was home. In the early hours of Friday morning, Boba would dump a whole chicken carcass in the steaming water, along with any vegetables she had; carrots, celery, onion, parsnip, you name it; leaving it to boil on the stove throughout the day, until a deep rich golden colour appeared and the mouth watering smell filled her home. That evening was spent sitting at the dining room table set with the nice table cloth, fancy china, regular utensils and good glassware. After sickly sweet grape juice or Manischewitz red wine and freshly baked challah, the steaming thin golden liquid filled the stomachs around the table, bringing a quiet, sleepy happiness. |
As the years passed and my mother grew up and moved away from home, Boba’s chicken soup would come back to tie my parents together. When my parents were barely acquaintances, only knowing each other from the small number of Jews on campus, my mum found herself bent over the stove in my dad’s cramped bachelor apartment when he was sick in bed. Assembling the simple ingredients for the soup, as Boba had for the Sabbath meal countless times before.
Maybe, without Boba’s chicken soup, my Friday afternoons walking in from school would be void of the greeting wafts of rich chicken smell, and the subtle sound of a rolling boil, accompanying the rush of my mum preparing to welcome the Sabbath. Maybe, without Boba’s chicken soup, I wouldn’t be here today, my parents never becoming close, or familiar with each other at all. Maybe, without realising it, Boba’s chicken soup was the wrinkle in time that brought my family to life. |
The RecipeIngredients:
7 packs of chicken bones 1 pack of chicken necks Water 6 carrots 1 parsnip 5 celery stalks 1 large onion peeled (or 2 medium sized onions) Salt to taste |
Instructions:
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