Recipe From the Farm Box: Just Like Grandma Made It

My Grandmother was a saint. When I say Grandma Jenny was a Saint I don't mean she was a good person, I mean she is a literal Saint. Saint Jenny, at least she is well on her way. She was the Matriarch of a very Italian family. As smart as they come, never had an unkind word to say, deeply committed to her faith and her family. When she died in 2010 I knew that if she was right and there is a heaven, a god, and god had a son named Jesus like she believed so truly, then Grandma Jenny was up there talking his ear off while she watched our family grow. I miss her a lot. But her faith, her love and her intelligence isn't what convinces me she is on her way to sainthood. See to become a saint, in accordance with the Catholic Church, you need to perform at least two posthumous miracles, meaning from beyond the grave. And I know for a FACT my Grandmother already has ONE under her belt.

You see my extended family owns a house in Seaside Heights. This house is beloved by all who have spent many a summer there, and although my Grandfather and his brothers built it with their own bare hands it is fair to say that, well, it's a shore house and it's a little rugged. The shore house is a block from the Boardwalk, really prime location.  But when Superstorm Sandy Hit in 2012, the family was SURE it was gone. More modern homes had succumbed and squashed to nothing. The House had had a good run, we were prepared for the worse, but anxious for news. It took a while for the authorities to allow access to the Island, but when they did, wouldn't you know it, that old house was still standing. And more than that, it was standing with NO damage. Two blocks down, flooding, two blocks the other direction, wind damage, homes destroyed, millions of dollars of devastation, but our little shore house apparently stood its ground. Not even water on the first level and this year we celebrated its 50th anniversary. It was a miracle, I know it, and only one person had the love capable of preserving something so dear to the family she loved so hard, and that was my Grandma. Now I just need to keep my eye out for Miracle number 2 and I'll be direct dialing the Pope.

Anyway, ok dear reader, why am I, this little Jewish girl, telling you this story? Well because it's an awesome story, and so that you can understand why the simple recipe that follows remains one of my favorites. And it is deliciously created with only a few simple ingredients. One of which, is Broccoli.

Broccoli soup, dear readers, is a dish my Grandmother made all the time. It's a dish she fed her four children as they grew, her nine grandchildren, and one that her grandchildren now feed her great-grandchildren (current count is 4 and growing). Apparently, it's not unique by the way. Italian grandmothers all across this great country have been making this super simple dish for their families. And I can see why. Broccoli is super cheap, and this soup with the addition of pasta stretches its value and nutrition across as many bowls as you need it to feed. Plus it's delicious, unless you are really anti broccoli, in which case we can no longer be friends.

Here is the basic recipe, modify it to your will, and feed it to your children, and remember, this is food from a Saint.

Grandma Jenny's Broccoli Soup:

• 1-2 large head of Broccoli, chopped, including the stems if you have them (chop into 1/2inch dice)
• 2-3tbsp of olive oil
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• 6 cups of stock (chicken or veg)
• 3-4 oz of pastina (or other small pasta like ditalini, peperini or alfabeto)
• Salt, pepper
• Parmesan cheese

1. Pour olive oil into a heavy soup pot, place over medium heat. When oil is hot add in the garlic and cook until fragrant. 
2. Add the broccoli to the pot and saute until the florets turn bright green and but are still al dente, 1-2 minutes. 
3. Add the Chicken stock and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and cover. Cook at a simmer for 10-20 minutes or until the broccoli begins to just fall apart and flavor the broth. Salt and pepper to taste.
4. Add the pasta and continue to boil until cooked through. (usuall 2-3 minutes) If you are not going to eat all of the soup in one sitting, I would advise you to boil your pasta separately as re-heating the pasta in the soup can result in a gluey mess. If you don't have, or cant find a small soup pasta, take the requisite amount of angel hair pasta, wrap in a towel or paper towel, and then use the edge of a counter to break into 1 inch pieces.
5. Serve with grated parmesan on top for extra love