Little Anna was 5 years old when her mother left her with a family in a small, rocky village in the hills of Konavle, Yugoslavia. Anna remembered having a doll sent to her by her mother from somewhere in America. She never heard from her mother again.
Fifteen years later, in 1923, Anna was on a ship heading toward her own new life in America, sent for by her childhood friend, Leonardo Leonardich, who had immigrated earlier.  Leonardo’s intention was marriage, which took place in Santa Cruz a few days after Anna’s arrival.
Anna and Leonardo farmed a small apple orchard in Watsonville, where they raised enough vegetables and animals to feed their four boys through the Great Depression, as well as many of their friends living in town, where food had to be paid for with money which they had little of.
Thirty years later, in 1953, Anna became my mother-in-law.
Anna’s greatest work was caring for her family and faithfully attending Mass. She worked side by side with Leonardo in their garden, washed clothes on a washboard and ironed white — yes, white — shirts for her boys to wear to school. Anna sorted apples during the apple season, standing for eight hours in the cold and damp apple sheds.
Anna couldn’t drive, sing, paint or do any of the artsy things that would qualify her to be part of Watsonville’s social women’s groups.
Anna’s friends were like Anna: hardworking homemakers, most of whom immigrated from her village in Yugoslavia.
But Anna could cook. Her food was simple; her chicken soup was made with the vegetables and chickens the family raised and seasonings she was familiar with from the old country. Anna never owned a cookbook.
When I married, we built our home next door to my in-laws, with no other close-by neighbors. Anna and I became good friends.
Fridays, I would drive Anna to the Union Street fish market, where we would buy smelts, calamari and snapper. The rest of the family always knew there would be enough for them. By 6 o’clock in the evening, Anna’s kitchen would be filled with grandkids and their parents, blanketed by the sweet pungent smell of the wine gravy she would pour over the crisp fried fish — oh, so good.
Anna’s chicken soup would rival anyone’s. I have shared her recipe with my neighbor Heather Boynton, whose family concluded it to be the best they had ever eaten.
In the summer of 1976, Anna died, and I am certain she has found her mother once again.
Colly Gruczelak, a Ben Lomond resident, loves people and loves to cook. Contact her at cz****@sb*******.net.
 
 
Box:
ANNA’S BASIC CHICKEN STOCK
1 whole 4- to 5-pound chicken
14 cups water
2 cups diced dried onions
1 cup diced carrots
1 cup diced celery stalks
2 minced garlic cloves
1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
3 tablespoons Better Than Bullion Chicken Stock (from Safeway or Costco)
In a large pot, cover and bring all ingredients to high simmer for 2 hours or until chicken begins separating from bones. Cool and remove skin and bones. Set chicken aside.
CHICKEN SOUP, 3 WAYS
Serves 6
Add to heated stock:
– 1 cup rice, or
– 8 ounces egg noodles, or
– 2 cups each diced carrots, onions, celery and potatoes
Simmer until tender. Add chicken back to pot and reheat.
CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
Serves 6 to 8
2 cups flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons very soft butter
2 teaspoons minced parsley
1 cup whole milk
In bowl, stir together all ingredients. Dough will be somewhat sticky. Meanwhile, heat the chicken stock to a high simmer.
Drop dough by heaping tablespoons-full into simmering stock. Makes about 15 dumplings.
Cover immediately and reduce heat to low simmer. Do not boil, as dumplings will fall apart.
Do not remove lid for 30 minutes. Sauce will thicken.
Reheat chicken and serve dumplings over chicken.

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