My little sister, Susie, and I spent many, many after-school hours at our grandparents house. They lived only a block and a half away from us and for almost all of my grade school years, their house was my second home. My grandparents both came from Italy and stepping into their house was like stepping into another world. I remember the round wooden table with grapes painted on the sides and the crackled leather top. And the coo-koo clock. And the big mirror in the living room. And my grandpa's shop in the basement that he told us not to go into but we did anyway. My grandpa was very hard of hearing and mostly spoke Italian so I don't remember many of our conversations but I remember thinking he was funny and that I very much liked to annoy him. I used to take running jumps in their hallway and smack the top of the door jam with my hand and make a loud WHAM! and he would jump in his chair. Then he'd yell at me in Italian and point at all the dirty hand prints I'd left on the wall. I'd laugh and run into the back bedroom and pretend I didn't know what he was talking about. Maybe it was just payback for all of the times he accused me of stealing his letter opener.
My grandma was a saint. She was kind and shy and she liked to tell us stories about my dad when he was little. She'd tell us about how handsome he was and how all the girls liked him in high school. She always wore the calico dresses and aprons that she made and she wore her long, dark hair tucked in a bun. I remember that she loved John Travolta, and she told me that when a man has a dimple in his chin, it means he's smart. She used to sing "How Much Is That Doggie In The Window" and I would give anything to hear her sing it now.
Susie and I always complained about the food in my grandparents' refrigerator (or the "Frigidaire" as my grandpa used to call it). All we could ever find was butter, yellow apples, and bottles of lemon juice. We'd try to make lemonade out of the lemon juice but we'd pour so much sugar in it that we almost had to chew it instead of drink it. I never understood how my grandma made such delicious food out of what she had in her cupboards. She made simple, hearty meals and they are still my favorite foods in the whole world.
This past weekend, I made my grandma's beef soup. It's made in her usual way—just a few ingredients, simmered carefully, for hours. I changed it a little this time and added some chopped carrots. I don't remember my grandma putting carrots in anything and this soup really doesn't need them but, frankly, anything would taste good in here. Also, I used brown rice instead of short pasta and it was just as yummy as I remember it to be.
Grandma's Beef Soup
4 or more beef short ribs
5 celery stalk tops
1 whole onion, peeled
1/2 tsp oregano
1/2 cup spaghetti sauce (hers was always homemade)
1 beef bouillon cube (I can only find chicken and vegetable bouillon cubes that don't have evil ingredients in them so I just use a vegetable bouillon cube, or you can use beef stock)
1 bay leaf
Salt to taste
12–16 oz. short pasta (or 1-1/2 cups cooked brown rice)
Put short ribs in a shallow baking pan and bake at 400 degrees until slightly brown all over. Remove from oven and put in a large pot and add enough water to cover plus two inches. Add celery tops, onion, oregano, sauce, bay leaf, and bouillon cube. Cover and slow simmer for 2-1/2 to 3 hours. Take beef out and shred it then put it back into the soup. Add salt to taste. Cook pasta according to package instructions and add to pot when you are ready to serve.
