Sauerbraten at the Robinson's, According to Girl

Sauerbraten at the Robinson’s according Girl: Sauerbraten, Spatzle and Sundays. Some things just go together.
Chocolate and coffee go together, too. This was a concept explained to me by my much beloved Aunt Val. She always had her own ideas. She was the spinster sister of my grandmother.

She was refined, elegant, beautiful, always smiling and always giving positive feedback to family and friends.

Aunt Val loved going out to eat. She was never in a hurry, if at a restaurant, she always had time for a second, third even fourth refill on coffee. And she re-read the already memorized menu for her most important decision—the dessert of the evening. She might have had only a cup of soup, or a small sandwich; but she always had room for a piece of apple pie a la mode, French apple, coconut crème, or pumpkin pie with whipped topping.

She simply enjoyed a good meal, savoring every precious moment with me, one of the highlights of her later years. She treated the busboys as she would lovingly treat her only son, had she one, but Aunt Val did not have children. I was chosen to step up and enjoy her company for the winter season of her life. It was during this time I closely watched her and listened carefully to those conversations over our chocolate and coffee.

"Baseball and boys" is another one of those concepts that just go together—get one, get both. They just come together in a magnificent package of energy and bliss. Whether it is Grandson Lukie making a baseball team from my glass chess set and hitting and running the bases around the checkered etched glass, or his brother Eddie pulling out the sky blue bases with the plastic bats and balls from our deck box, then begging anyone on two legs to throw him some pitches.

It just seems to work out that way. Baseball caps, short little legs, missed pitches, fly balls, some balls going into the wintery slime pool or the duck creek, bases run (sometimes missed). Sometimes bases run backwards starting with third, with the batter also acting as the catcher. Almost always there will be big tears and scraped knees. Yes, baseball and boys just go together.

Sundays and Sauerbraten: In the German neighborhood on 73rd Street you could begin to smell the marinating process on Saturday nights. Tradition involved the vinegar, sugar mixture to soak deeply into the meat prior to roasting on the next day. Mrs. Robinson shopped at 11 a.m. promptly every Saturday morning. She would get up early, grab her very noisy canister vacuum, connect the extension cord, and start at our door, vacuuming the landing and stairs, hitting the baseboard on the other side of our bedroom. Most of the time, we just rolled over or on top of each other and groaned. Then, we figured we might as well do some banging ourselves and perhaps get the day started with a romp in the hay.

After putting away the incredibly noisy vacuum, she would pull out the metal hand cart for her shopping trip for the week. She did not own a car; she walked to the store, three blocks away. The first stop was the butcher shop. There she would carefully examine the display, as if she were intending to spend thousands for diamond earrings. She would ask the butcher to show her both sides of the cut of meat. She would buy only the best, because this was to be for her Sunday dinner.

Once the decision was made, the butcher would rip off the white butcher paper from his roll, place the chosen beef into the large white rectangle and wrap it up like the flag fold of Germany, tucking in each corner and sealing it with white tape. He would take his black crayon and write the weight and price on the outside for the cashier.

Mrs. Robinson would then go through the rest of her list. Sunday was always a special day at her house. Not only did she serve her famous Sauerbraten almost every week, on this Sunday she would surprise her family with Spatzle. (The word Spatzle means tiny sparrow. The shape of the Spatzle was thought to be like a small bird.) Yes. For that she needed fresh eggs, flour, salt, milk and nutmeg. She would find all the required ingredients at her little German shop. Sauerbraten and Spatzle went together.

Two more things that just went together were Mike and Evie. We were two of a kind. When Mike was young, he had a big wooden box filled with his toys. They were not the typical "Red Ryder BB guns," etc., although he did have one of those as well. This box contained what he called his "take apart and put togethers." He would spend hours working on clocks, radios, watches, motors and other electric components—some worked and some did not. However, after doing his chores, he found his fun spending time solving the questions of why this or that did not work.

When he first told me about this wooden box, I thought a lot about us. I think we were (and are) one of his major "put togethers." Sometimes our gears need greasing, sometimes things get rusty along the way. There have been times when "Team Mike and Evie" had slight breakdowns—perhaps needing fresh batteries, or a flat fixed.

But just as Sundays and Sauerbraten always went together at the Robinson’s home, so always did "Team Mike and Evie." Someday, I am sure, there will be a checkered flag waving for us!