Bubbie's Kitchen on the Sabbath

by Charlotte Savage

Today, Friday, is a day of preparation for the Sabbath in my Grandmother’s home, the center of her universe. 

The parlor is freshly vacuumed, furniture polished, her lace curtains are hand laundered and dried on stretchers in the sun.

The huge black kitchen stove is newly polished, its chrome trim buffed to a mirror finish.  The linoleum floor washed and waxed; then covered with yesterday’s newspapers to keep it clean.

Bubbie is dressed in a freshly laundered starched and ironed house dress; she covers her ample body with a large apron while preparing for our Sabbath dinner.

On the back burner of the stove is a huge pot of chicken soup. Our family commonly refers to chicken soup as ‘Bubbie’s Jewish Penicillin’.  The soup is chock full of carrots, celery, onions, and parsnip. Other than the Sabbath, or other special holidays, it is served to us in steaming bowls at the first sign of a cough or a sneeze.

Chicken stuffed with her delicious bread and apple stuffing is roasting in the oven. Carrot Tzimmes, a casserole made with carrots, sweet and white potatoes, flank steak and slightly sweetened with honey slowly simmers on the stove. Meanwhile, Bubbie sautés liver and onions and boils eggs in preparation for making chopped liver in her wooden bowl.

Bubbie is widely acclaimed for her Strudel, a delicious pastry made with a mixture of three different kinds of jams, chopped walnuts, raisins, cinnamon and sugar.  Bubbie rolls the dough paper thin in the same manner as a jelly roll and sprinkles it with cinnamon and sugar; the jam and nuts are spread on last, a mouthwatering delicate pastry.

A Compote of prunes, apricots and yellow and black raisins laced with cinnamon and lemon completes Bubbie’s homemade remedy to keep everyone regular.

As dusk approaches, I, her granddaughter arrive early to set the large oval table, a table that is Bubbie’s work area by day; now this same table is adorned with Bubbie’s spotless white linen tablecloth, gleaming silver, crystal wine goblets and best china that is saved for the Sabbath and other special occasions. The symbolic Challah, the braided bread, is covered with an embroidered linen cloth until the meal is served.

Children, grandchildren, and guests arrive before sundown and are seated at the table.  Bubbie places her silk shawl over her gray hair, her face aglow in the light from the candles as she welcomes in the Sabbath; while giving thanks to God that these candles bring light into her home and joy into her life.

Zadie, my grandfather, sits at the head of the table.  He is a short chubby man with a fringe of gray hair, a baker by trade, with a gentle voice and eyes that light up when he sees his grandchildren. He calls me ‘Mamala,’ a term of endearment.  I am named after his mother.  The Challah, which he has brought home from the bakery where he is employed, will be used in the traditional Ha Motzi, the ritual of thanking God for the bread on his table. Breaking off a large piece of Challah, he tears off a small piece for himself and then passes the larger piece around the table for all to share.

Holding his silver goblet high, the goblet given to him in Poland when he was a thirteen year old Bar Mitzvah boy, he recites the prayer thanking God for the fruit of the vine. We all lift our glasses in unison gratefully acknowledging our gratitude to God for the food we are about to partake in and the gift of the Sabbath.

The sumptuous meal is served while our families chat about current events and family matters.  Occasionally there is a reference to a remembrance of my grandparent’s childhood days in Poland when they sat at their parent’s table.  Bubbie’s table is always warm and comforting at any time--but especially so on the Sabbath.

Dessert is served and Zadie chants another prayer of Thanks to God, for the food he has provided for his family.  Holding his wine glass high once again, he shouts the joyful words “Good Shabbos.” (Peace to all on the Sabbath.)  

“Good Shabbos” rings out from adults and children alike as together we share the joy of the Sabbath around the big oval table in my Bubbie’s kitchen.