Ball Soup

Today was the day my husband's great-grandmother had planned her annual Christmas dinner. Every year she prepares her famous "ball soup." Don't ask me what the proper name for it is, because I honestly have no idea. The first time I heard my husband talk about it was before we were ever married. He went on and on about how good his great-grandmother's ball soup was. I just smiled and went on.

Then the day came when I was finally invited to join this festive event. At the time, I had been dating my boyfriend for two years, but I knew that shortly I would become engaged. So, I was looking forward to seeing what all the hype was all about. 

When we arrived, I noticed how charming his great-grandmother's house really was. She lived on a quiet cul-de-sac in a light brick house with light green trim. Right in front of the house was a charming little flowerbed with a small white wooden bench that would be surrounded by flowers of all colors during the spring. It was so charming and peaceful, I could have stood out there all day.As quickly as that thought entered my mind, I was quickly shuffled inside the house.

I said hello to the family members I knew and Drew, my soon to be fiance, quickly introduced me to everyone else. After all the introductions were made he showed me to a seat at one of the many tables already set with bowls, spoons and napkins. Right when Drew and I sat down, one of Drew's aunts came over with a huge pot and began filling my bowl with the famous "ball soup."

I looked down at the soup and made a quick assessment.  It looked disgusting. It was the color of the dirt I saw in the flowerbed outside. Of course, it had balls of something floating around in it and what looked to be some type of meat, but I really couldn't tell. I poked my spoon around in it trying to find more clues about what was in it, but I was disappointed. I was just going to have to try it.

I glanced up around me and noticed that everyone in the room was eating this soup with great fervor. Drew was just about to get a second helping. I tentatively scooped some on my spoon and put it in my mouth. I didn't know what to think about what I tasted. It had a distinct flavor to it, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. About that time, Drew's aunt Shirley came over to me and asked me what I thought. I simply replied, "It's good."

She smiled and said, "It's okay if you don't like it. When I married Drew's uncle, I didn't like it either. It's something you have to get used to."

Maybe so, I thought as I took another bite.  In all honesty, the soup wasn't that bad, but I didn't really care for it. Probably because I'd never had anything like it before.
 
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I realize I'm smiling now as I'm thinking about great-grandma Rose's ball soup. That day when I had my first bowl of her famous soup was over 6 yeas ago, and I still remember ever detail of it. And, just like aunt Shirley said, the soup was something I had to get used to, and now I love it.

I have now come to look forward to this day, just like every other member of my husband's family. Not just for the ball soup, but because it is the one time out of the year that the entire family all comes together.

This year is special because great-grandma Rose is 93 and is not going to be around much longer. Also, Drew and I just had a baby boy, Alex, who was born on Rose's birthday.
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It is not looking good. We are stuck in traffic 30 minutes away from Rose's house, and we are over 30 minutes late, so more than likely there is no ball soup left for us.

This situation has put both my husband and I in a sour mood. I think Alex can sense it too, because he is starting to cry.

Finally, traffic begins to move. We slowly follow the cars ahead of us and pass the two cars on the side of the road that collided. Hopefully, no one has been hurt.

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When we arrive, I realize my earlier thought was correct. All the tables have been cleared and their is no ball soup in sight. My heart sinks.

About that time grandma Rose comes up and hugs us. As she takes Alex she ushers us in her tiny kitchen. She hands us two bowls and pulls out something from the refrigerator. It's ball soup!!! My heart soars, she saved us some!

The day came and went to fast and, like we all feared, it was grandma's last time to make her ball soup. This tradition will likely be carried on by her children and we will all come together and remember the special memories we had with her and her famous ball soup.

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For those of you who are wondering, "ball soup" is a Czech recipe. The balls are bread and the meat can be turkey or ham. Grandma Rose only gave out the rest of the ingredients to her daughters, because it was a secret that can only be passed on to one generation at a time. I still do not know the proper name for it.

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