On Mother's Day, my auntie Vi, (b. 1925, Milwaukee), who emails me every day, wrote that she'd made garlic bread soup, in memory of her mother, my grandmother Rosaria––I called her Ama (née DeNicola, 1900, Monreale, Sicily).
"My mother made it for us on schooldays," Vi wrote, "when we came home for lunch during the Depression.
I don’t know where she got olive oil and cheese when she didn’t have three cents for yeast nor a nickel for a bag of salt. Perhaps grandma DeNicola brought it to her."
I wrote back asking for instructions, and she replied, "There are no instructions for garlic bread soup".
Then she told me how to make it.
Garlic Bread Soup
"My mother made it for us on schooldays," Vi wrote, "when we came home for lunch during the Depression.
I don’t know where she got olive oil and cheese when she didn’t have three cents for yeast nor a nickel for a bag of salt. Perhaps grandma DeNicola brought it to her."
I wrote back asking for instructions, and she replied, "There are no instructions for garlic bread soup".
Then she told me how to make it.
Garlic Bread Soup
Warm up garlic (chopped,
sliced or grated) in olive oil.
.
.
Add torn pieces of stale or dried
bread. Hopefully baguette or Italian. The crusts are the best as I
like the solid chunks.
Add water to cover and cook 5 or 10 minutes. (If you want more flavor, you can use chicken or vegetable
broth.)
Bread soaks up lots of water. You may need to add more as it
cooks.
.
.
More oil for taste? Salt and pepper.
Serve with lots of Parmesan
and fresh-ground pepper.
______________________
Me in Palermo, Sicily, April 2007 (trip sponsored by Uncle Tony), outside the Dante Bookstore.
Tutta un'altra storia is a saying meaning variations on "a whole other story".
Tutta un'altra storia is a saying meaning variations on "a whole other story".
An article about this pan-Italian (and Spanish) soup, called pancotto (cooked bread):
Great comfort food. I have fond memories of eating this soup, made by my grandmother (she was half-Italian, half-Sicilian: I assume this makes me one-eight Sicilian).
ReplyDeleteOh, interesting--I've actually never had it, surprisingly--this is my first time anyone in the family even mentioned it, in my memory...
ReplyDeleteI think mostly my father and his family did NOT want to eat what they ate growing up desperately poor... No spaghetti!
Hey, we're related! Small island, Sicily. (Well, not THAT small.) Do you know what part of Sicily your grandmother was from?
Some dishes my grandmother was fond of were not so much appreciated by the descendants; such as spinachs or broccolis cooked with raisins and olives (lemon - olive oil). When I think of it, it was not that bad.
ReplyDeleteMy grandfather's family was originally from Palermo; however himself was born in Alexandria (Egypt)!
My grandmother was from Formia (provincia di Caserte).
Uh, I mistyped, I meant "great-grandfather" and "great-grandmother".
ReplyDeleteTORORO: Raisins and olives! I remember when I first had that combo-- on a pizza in London, when I was in my twenties---I thought it was the strangest thing, but wonderful.
ReplyDeleteNow I love those sorts of flavor combinations---capers and mint, for instance.
Palermo! We are for sure relatives!
My father's family used to go to Tunisia to work--help in the harvest (hops? roses? I'm not sure!).