Noodles and Butterballs
Have you ever noticed how people always eat certain comfort foods whenever they get together to celebrate important family events? The old, all-American standards of fried chicken and apple pie used to be quite common in middle America. Grilled hamburgers, baked beans, and potato salad are still popular summer foods in much of the Midwest.
But, here in the Nebraska panhandle, family ethnicity plays a huge role in determining which foods will be served. The Native Americans in our midst often serve Indian tacos, while those of Mexican heritage serve enchiladas, tacos, burritos, and tamales. The Greek families serve up delicious gyros and Greek roasts. We have a significant Asian population here, too, and a wide variety of Asian cuisine is available in several authentic restaurants in the area. When our family eats Asian food, several of us can hardly wait for the sushi, while Andy relishes Thai cuisine, Meagan chooses traditional Chinese food, and Levi feasts on edamame (soy beans) and crab rangoon.
When I first met Bill, he bragged about his Grandma Bauer's German cooking. I thought I knew all about good German cooking, since my Grandma Wegner was an excellent German cook. At her house, Sunday dinner usually included roast beef or chicken with potatoes and gravy. I loved her homemade bread and coffee cake.
The first time Bill brought me out to Gering to meet his family, his Grandma served a meal unlike any German meal I had ever eaten. It started with a bowl of noodles and butterballs--Bill's favorite. Bill served me a bowlful with at least five butterballs in it. Now, I had never seen a butterball before, let alone tasted one. Some people say that they are a lot like matzo balls, but I've never eaten a matzo ball, so I can't say for sure. I just know that butterballs are definitely an acquired taste, and five rich butterballs were way too many for me to eat the first time! I ate one, along with the amazing, savory homemade noodle soup. Bill graciously ate the rest of my butterballs that first time--perhaps he had an ulterior motive in giving me so many in the first place.
Over the years, I've learned to love butterballs, too. And I've learned that the so-called German cooking that Bill is so fond of is really German-Russian cooking, since his ancestors originally came to this part of America from Germany, via Russia, where they lived and worked for many years before continuing on to the U.S. around the turn of the twentieth century. Besides butterballs, the German-Russian cooks here in the Scottsbluff/Gering area make grebel and liebekuchen (both delicious pastries), cabbage burgers and garlic sausage, and blackberry dumplings, made from German blackberries, which really look more like blueberries than blackberries.
When we lived in Michigan, Bill missed his Grandma's cooking. So, when we were back in Gering to visit, he asked his Grandma for her butterball recipe. That, in itself, was a challenge, because his Grandma Bauer never wrote down her recipes; like many older cooks, she added a little of this and a little of that until it just felt right. However, Bill managed to write down some semblance of a recipe to take back to Michigan. The ingredients included two kinds of bread crumbs, some of them toasted, along with eggs, generous amounts of whipping cream, butter, and allspice. The trick was to make it into dense enough, walnut-sized balls that would stay together in boiling broth. One day, when Bill decided to make a batch of butterballs himself, he called his Grandma repeatedly, in spite of the potentially monstrous long-distance phone bill. She talked him through his first butterball-making experience, and we were able to eat a few passable butterballs that evening with our chicken noodle soup. It wasn't quite like Grandma's, but it was better than none.
Yesterday, our extended family gathered together to celebrate baby Tobin's dedication. Afterwards, we feasted on shredded beef sandwiches, several salads, and some wonderful cakes and cheesecake. But, best of all, Toby's Great-Grandma Ruppel made noodles and butterballs. Among German-Russians here in the Nebraska panhandle, that's the tradition. Delicious!
But, here in the Nebraska panhandle, family ethnicity plays a huge role in determining which foods will be served. The Native Americans in our midst often serve Indian tacos, while those of Mexican heritage serve enchiladas, tacos, burritos, and tamales. The Greek families serve up delicious gyros and Greek roasts. We have a significant Asian population here, too, and a wide variety of Asian cuisine is available in several authentic restaurants in the area. When our family eats Asian food, several of us can hardly wait for the sushi, while Andy relishes Thai cuisine, Meagan chooses traditional Chinese food, and Levi feasts on edamame (soy beans) and crab rangoon.
When I first met Bill, he bragged about his Grandma Bauer's German cooking. I thought I knew all about good German cooking, since my Grandma Wegner was an excellent German cook. At her house, Sunday dinner usually included roast beef or chicken with potatoes and gravy. I loved her homemade bread and coffee cake.
The first time Bill brought me out to Gering to meet his family, his Grandma served a meal unlike any German meal I had ever eaten. It started with a bowl of noodles and butterballs--Bill's favorite. Bill served me a bowlful with at least five butterballs in it. Now, I had never seen a butterball before, let alone tasted one. Some people say that they are a lot like matzo balls, but I've never eaten a matzo ball, so I can't say for sure. I just know that butterballs are definitely an acquired taste, and five rich butterballs were way too many for me to eat the first time! I ate one, along with the amazing, savory homemade noodle soup. Bill graciously ate the rest of my butterballs that first time--perhaps he had an ulterior motive in giving me so many in the first place.
Over the years, I've learned to love butterballs, too. And I've learned that the so-called German cooking that Bill is so fond of is really German-Russian cooking, since his ancestors originally came to this part of America from Germany, via Russia, where they lived and worked for many years before continuing on to the U.S. around the turn of the twentieth century. Besides butterballs, the German-Russian cooks here in the Scottsbluff/Gering area make grebel and liebekuchen (both delicious pastries), cabbage burgers and garlic sausage, and blackberry dumplings, made from German blackberries, which really look more like blueberries than blackberries.
When we lived in Michigan, Bill missed his Grandma's cooking. So, when we were back in Gering to visit, he asked his Grandma for her butterball recipe. That, in itself, was a challenge, because his Grandma Bauer never wrote down her recipes; like many older cooks, she added a little of this and a little of that until it just felt right. However, Bill managed to write down some semblance of a recipe to take back to Michigan. The ingredients included two kinds of bread crumbs, some of them toasted, along with eggs, generous amounts of whipping cream, butter, and allspice. The trick was to make it into dense enough, walnut-sized balls that would stay together in boiling broth. One day, when Bill decided to make a batch of butterballs himself, he called his Grandma repeatedly, in spite of the potentially monstrous long-distance phone bill. She talked him through his first butterball-making experience, and we were able to eat a few passable butterballs that evening with our chicken noodle soup. It wasn't quite like Grandma's, but it was better than none.
Yesterday, our extended family gathered together to celebrate baby Tobin's dedication. Afterwards, we feasted on shredded beef sandwiches, several salads, and some wonderful cakes and cheesecake. But, best of all, Toby's Great-Grandma Ruppel made noodles and butterballs. Among German-Russians here in the Nebraska panhandle, that's the tradition. Delicious!
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