Anna Salinger
was my grandmother and a pretty good cook. Back in the day she made everything from scratch. That’s one of my earliest memories of her. She’s wearing an apron, flour all over the kitchen counter rolling out the dough then cranking it through a machine that sliced it into the long skinny noodles homemade for her soup. I was very impressed that nobody yelled at her over the mess she was making. This let me know she was the boss. She’d drop these into her pot of homemade beef broth, onions, potatoes, carrots always sliced the long way, but more than anything it was those homemade egg noodles, they were what made grandma’s soup the best. Of course this didn’t stop my grandfather from dumping a half bottle of ketchup into his bowl, but the rest of us knew better.
I remember staying over at grandma’s house. Sleeping in the guest room with the bumpy crocheted bedspread, streetlight shining through the window level with the foot of the bed and Collinwood yard train sounds coming in the other one.
I broke all the thermometers in her house. One time when I was staying over, I was probably around ten or eleven years old, I gathered then all up. My grandparents had quite a few thermometers too, between the one hanging outside the kitchen window and the ones grandma used for cooking and the couple I got from the medicine cabinet. I took them all and put them in the freezer then I took them and set them on the grill of the hot air vent then back into the freezer and heated again until they were all rendered useless. So my parents come to pick me up and see this pile of thermometers sitting on the counter. My Grandmother tells them what happened, and then she took my side. He was just doing an experiment, she said. He’s a scientist.
Every one of us grandkids and great-grandkids could tell a half dozen stories like this. Grandma always took your side. No matter what you did, the way you cut or colored your hair, the good and bad choices we made in life or our friends – she may not have approved of some of our decisions, but she never turned her back on us. Anna Salinger was as stubborn woman and we benefited because of this. We were always welcome at her table.
I know I speak for everyone who knew her when I say, “We’re all going to miss Grandma’s cooking.”
I remember staying over at grandma’s house. Sleeping in the guest room with the bumpy crocheted bedspread, streetlight shining through the window level with the foot of the bed and Collinwood yard train sounds coming in the other one.
I broke all the thermometers in her house. One time when I was staying over, I was probably around ten or eleven years old, I gathered then all up. My grandparents had quite a few thermometers too, between the one hanging outside the kitchen window and the ones grandma used for cooking and the couple I got from the medicine cabinet. I took them all and put them in the freezer then I took them and set them on the grill of the hot air vent then back into the freezer and heated again until they were all rendered useless. So my parents come to pick me up and see this pile of thermometers sitting on the counter. My Grandmother tells them what happened, and then she took my side. He was just doing an experiment, she said. He’s a scientist.
Every one of us grandkids and great-grandkids could tell a half dozen stories like this. Grandma always took your side. No matter what you did, the way you cut or colored your hair, the good and bad choices we made in life or our friends – she may not have approved of some of our decisions, but she never turned her back on us. Anna Salinger was as stubborn woman and we benefited because of this. We were always welcome at her table.
I know I speak for everyone who knew her when I say, “We’re all going to miss Grandma’s cooking.”
Anna Frances Salinger
Feb 18, 1920 - Sept 14, 2008
5 comments:
Three cheers for your grandma! She sounds like a fine woman, and this is a moving tribute. Reminds me of my own grandma....
You and your family are in my thoughts.
Peace....
Awww, I'm sorry for your loss of your grandma Michael. I've been thinking about you a lot today. Hope everything went okay. Love you!
And she does look like Becky. You're right.
Oh Salinger, I just read this, days later. Lovely tribute. When you lose those ties to the past you can become unmoored....
My best to you and your family.
Great tribute to a wonderful woman. I too am sorry for your loss.
Post a Comment