Growing up, Summer Borscht (Zumma Borscht) was one of my favorite soups. As it started to get colder, and throughout winter, soup would be on the menu at our house almost every day of the week. After school, as we walked home, we would get to the stop sign at the end of our block, and we could all smell the soup cooking. It was always a competition between my sisters and I, to see who could guess which kind of soup we were having that day before we reached the house. If we could smell Summer borscht, we would all be so excited! Whenever my Foster Mother would make soup, she would take a bag of buns out of the freezer and bake them in the oven to defrost them, and we would always be so happy that we were having soft, warm buns with our soup. But that’s where the trouble started. I would fill my bowl with broth and sausage, and eat bun after bun after bun, dipping it into the delicious broth, every now and then shoving a piece of farmer sausage into my mouth, until one of my sisters would catch on to what I was doing and rat me out. “Mom! Lance didn’t take any potatoes! He’s just eating buns and sausage!!” And my Foster Mother would get so mad at me and yell “Nah, bengel! Du must nich blouse freight on buns an’ varsht!” And then she would ban me from eating any more buns during that meal, and fill up my bowl with potatoes telling me how it wasn’t fair that I was just leaving the rest of them with a pot of potatoes and zurum.
About a month and a half before my Foster Mother passed away, my sister came out from Manitoba with the intention of going to visit with her, possibly for the last time, to have one last meal together. We decided that I would make a pot of Summer borscht and fresh buns and we would bring it down to the nursing home that she was staying at so that we could all eat lunch together. The nurses warned us that she wasn’t really eating anything at all, but said that they would set up a table in the back room for us complete with dishes and cutlery and anything else that we needed. When we arrived, the nurses brought her into the room where we were all set up and waiting for her. She looked confused as to why we were there, even though we had told her the day before that we would be bringing lunch to eat with her. We asked her to bless the food, and then we ate. And boy did we ever! We placed a small bowl of soup and a bun in front of her, expecting that she wasn’t going to be eating much of it. But to our surprise she finished her entire bowl of soup, and the bun! And then asked for another. And finished that one as well. And then asked for a third. And once again, finished that one. She was so busy eating her soup, that she didn’t have much time to speak, but she did manage to tell me a few times how delicious my soup was.
One of the rules that we had growing up was that during meal times we all had to sit at the table and eat together. It didn’t matter if we had been fighting like cats and dogs 10 minutes prior to meal time, we still had to sit down together to eat. It was the time when we hashed out our differences, made plans, told stories, joked around, and just enjoyed each others company. As we would be talking and laughing and joking, telling our stories, she would always sit back in her chair at the head of the table. And with a slight smile on her face, she would just watch us, not saying anything, taking it all in, even if it was something crazy, like me having to eat a bowl of potatoes and zurum while my sisters laughed at me. And at the nursing home, after she had finished her third bowl of soup, she sat back in her chair at the head of the table, and with a small grin on her face, she watched us, my sister and I, and our kids laughing, joking, telling stories, and it was just like it was when we were kids.
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- 7 qt (28 cups) Water
- 8 cups Potatoes
- 1 ring Farmer Sausage/Ham (chopped)
- 2 Onions (chopped)
- 8 cups Sorel Leaves (zurum) (chopped)
- 2 cups Dill
- 1/4 cup Parsley
- Salt and Pepper to taste
- Sour Cream
- Put water, ham bone, onions and 1 tsp of salt into a pot and boil for 2 hours.
- After 2 hours, remove the ham bone, add the farmer sausage or ham and continue to cook for another 30 minutes. During this time, peel and chop your potatoes.
- Add the potatoes and cook for about 10 minutes. Add the sorel leaves (zurum), dill and parsley and continue to cook until the potatoes are done.
- Taste your broth. Add salt and pepper to taste, and more sorel (zurum) if you feel like your soup needs it.
- Serve and add sour cream to individual bowls. Enjoy!
- Best served alongside the best buns ever https://mennoneechiekitchen.com/index.php/2017/01/12/the-best-bun-recipe-ever/
I’m so happy I stumbled across your blog! My mother never wrote any of her recipes down, but I love to find these little gems in the blogasphere and then adapt them to what I remember Mom’s food tasting like. But your stories! I could read them all day long … have you written a book yet, or do you plan to? I’d love to read it.
Very touching story and great memories for you and your sister. Bengel! LOL. My grandma sometimes called me that too!
It’s all in the sorrel. When my Dad couldn’t find it he used spinach but it wasn’t the same.
I don’t remember the soup being that dilly so maybe Winkler Mennonites didn’t use as much? I like dill pickles but don’t care for it other times that’s why I am wondering about the amount.
I’ve found without sorrel that a Chinese vegetable called Gai-Lan is a good substitute. It’s kind of sour / bitter and holds up well in the hot soup. Some vinegar and LOTS of buttermilk! Yum
I use dill, onion greens, beet leaves , cream and buttermilk. Smoked ham hock for the stock. I add vinegar to my bowl when I eat it as most of my family doesn’t like the extra kick. There are so many variations for somma borscht it all depends on how your Mom made it, but it’s all delicious!
Great recipe, nice to see Mennonite recipes I grew up with!
I wanted to find a recipe for kielke – it was one of my favourite things growing up in Manitoba. My mother was from Grunthal. So many memories of my Groossmame making it. I want to make this for my sons and voila! … you’re gonna make it happen! I’m tearing up just thinking about it. Thank you so much.
I’m originally from a small town in Southern Manitoba by the name of Gretna. I just read the intro to this page and it brought back alot of great memories. My Mom made the Zumma Borscht the same way and also took out home baked buns from the warm oven. The memories are just as important as eating the soup, as far as I’m concerned. I’m glad to hear that your family still had the meal with your Mom in the nursing home. It sounded like it meant so much to her, not to mention she enjoyed eating the soup and home made buns. This story you’ll have in your family to cherish!
Thank you so much for your lovely blog and traditional Mennonite recipes.
Absolutely delighted to find Mennonite recipes.😘