Such a poignant and important post. Our family elders teach us so much. My maternal grandmother wasn’t much of a cook, even though she ran a restaurant in Brooklyn years before Brooklyn was what it is now. She made us “chopped meat,” AKA “hamburgers,” which is really all I can remember her cooking. My own mother taught herself how to cook and made everything from unctuous lasagna to succulent roast chicken and pot roast to Chinese bbq pork--hanging pork tenderloins on hooks inside our oven. No--we were definitely not kosher, but boy did we eat well. And she made the most delicious cold borscht in the summer--tinted pink from the sour cream and served somewhat chunky in tall chilled glasses. Food memories are so important. I hope I’m imparting them to my own now-adult children. I love your posts. Please keep writing.❤️
What a loving tribute to your late grandmother and your father. They would be so proud of all that you have achieved, especially in your culinary career!
My late mother, who was originally from Poland, didn't serve us Borscht as a soup. Instead, we would drink it cold and from a glass, with the little slivered pieces of cooked beets, lingering at the bottom. It was usually served as an accompaniment to a potato main dish or soup.
What a lovely, genuine story. And a beautiful picture of you and your babushka. Thank you for the recipe I will make this for my father who adores borscht.
The prunes are a surprise! A lot like my Ukrainian grandmother’s recipe too. I also love it cold in summer. Will make it soon. Thanks. 🇺🇦
Such a poignant and important post. Our family elders teach us so much. My maternal grandmother wasn’t much of a cook, even though she ran a restaurant in Brooklyn years before Brooklyn was what it is now. She made us “chopped meat,” AKA “hamburgers,” which is really all I can remember her cooking. My own mother taught herself how to cook and made everything from unctuous lasagna to succulent roast chicken and pot roast to Chinese bbq pork--hanging pork tenderloins on hooks inside our oven. No--we were definitely not kosher, but boy did we eat well. And she made the most delicious cold borscht in the summer--tinted pink from the sour cream and served somewhat chunky in tall chilled glasses. Food memories are so important. I hope I’m imparting them to my own now-adult children. I love your posts. Please keep writing.❤️
What a lovely story. Thank you for sharing her with us. ❤️
What a loving tribute to your late grandmother and your father. They would be so proud of all that you have achieved, especially in your culinary career!
My late mother, who was originally from Poland, didn't serve us Borscht as a soup. Instead, we would drink it cold and from a glass, with the little slivered pieces of cooked beets, lingering at the bottom. It was usually served as an accompaniment to a potato main dish or soup.
What a lovely, genuine story. And a beautiful picture of you and your babushka. Thank you for the recipe I will make this for my father who adores borscht.