Greta’s Red Kraut
I work in Home Health. My co-workers always joke about writing a book of our experiences. Usually, it’s the horror stories about bugs, wild animals, police shakedowns in the street… you get the idea.
My stories are quite different. Sure, I have the fella that answered the door in his tighty-whities and invited me in like it was perfectly normal, but the moments that truly stick with me are the moments of connection.
We’ll call her “Greta.” Greta is a ninety-something year old woman who has been there and done that. She is forever grateful for her family who cares endlessly for her. She wants for nothing. Her little apartment is always clean and tidy. “I’m so blessed,” she says repeatedly.
She talks about her childhood throughout our visits. She reminisces about her working days, her mother and sister who have passed away. She asks me about my family and is genuinely interested in me as a person. She thanks me for coming and tells me every time I leave to “be careful, I love you!” And I believe that she does.
She gives me recipes. She passes on recipes from memory. Her eyesight is failing so she can’t write them down. Instead, she verbalizes and pantomimes them and has me repeat the instructions back for accuracy.
“This one,” she says, “was on our table a lot as I was growing up. You’ve got to make it for your family.”
I do some quick math. While Greta was still a baby during the Great Depression, she doesn’t remember all the nasty details in clarity, but she certainly felt the remnants; the aftershocks and the PTSD her parents most certainly worked through.
Today, groceries are expensive. Lordy, are they ever! We’ve seen the shelves of staples stand empty through COVID. We have had our moments of having to wait for the comforts we’ve grown accustomed to having at our fingertips. Some of us have been forced to become more creative with our menus. Some of us have always had to make meals stretch. Yet, it doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of what so many faced during Greta’s parents’ time and hopefully never will.
I promise Greta I will try the recipe. Her eyes light up. “It’s really easy! And it’s really good, too!” It’s what her mom made for her when times were tough. It stretched the pennies a bit more. It filled her children’s bellies. It got them through. She can’t offer me money as a way of showing her gratitude, so instead she offers me a tangible piece of her history. I ask you, what could be more valuable? Her recipe is simple. No measurements. Just “a bit of this” and “then this.” I hope you try it, too!
Greta’s Red Kraut (in Greta’s voice if you can imagine)
-made in a skillet, but of course, cast iron is best
Rinse a bag of sauerkraut in a colander and let it drain off the liquid-rinse it really good! I like the sauerkraut from Aldi, have you tried that?
Sautée diced onions in butter
-oh, you know just enough to cover the bottom
Put the kraut on top of the onions
-the whole bag!
Sprinkle some sugar on top of the kraut
-oh, I don’t know, not more than a quarter cup
Slice up some smoked sausage and layer it on top of the kraut
-yes, just one regular package is plenty, but you’ve got to slice them pretty thin
Then pour some tomato juice on top until it’s covered
-no, not a whole big can. Maybe two small cans would work. I always use a big can and then save the rest for drinking later on
Now, just simmer until the liquid is gone!
Oh, I always eat it with mashed potatoes. Don’t think I’ve had it any other way.
I made Greta’s recipe tonight and I imagined having three or four little faces with dinner plates for eyes staring at the feast before them. And as my belly began to feel full, my heart became even more so. And just as she said, it’s really easy and it’s really good!
We have a wealth of experience in our elders. If you don’t gain an easy, inexpensive meal from reading this, I hope you gain an appreciation of the gifts they want to give us. Listen to them. They’ve been there and done that, and none of us can afford to deny the education.