Beef bone soup is made for days like this — cold, quiet, and soaked in nostalgia.
When the wind carries memories instead of air, and the silence feels heavier than usual.
It’s the kind of day that makes you crave a meal that isn’t just hot… but healing.
I’ve been thinking about my mom’s beef bone soup.
There isn’t a grand memory attached to it — no fancy family gathering or special Sunday story.
But what I do remember is how that soup made everything feel okay.
No matter how cold it was outside, that soup stayed warm.
And somehow, so did I.
It had beef bones, soft carrots, tender potatoes…
and something else I can’t quite recreate.
Maybe it was the way she stirred it.
Maybe it was her presence in the kitchen.
Maybe it was the fact that I felt loved.
Because no matter who makes beef bone soup now — it doesn’t taste the same.
And it probably never will.
Grief is strange like that.
It shows up in your senses.
It sneaks in through smells, and songs, and soup.
Today, I let the memory stay.
And I honour it the best way I can — by trying to recreate that warmth.
🍲 Mama’s Inspired Beef Bone Soup (Winter Edition)
Ingredients:
- 500g beef bones (with some meat attached)
- 1 onion, chopped
- 2 carrots, peeled and sliced
- 2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 1 tbsp tomato paste
- Salt & pepper to taste
- 1 tsp paprika
- 1 tsp thyme
- 1 bay leaf
- Water (about 6 cups)
- Optional: 1 beef stock cube for extra richness
- Fresh parsley, for serving
Instructions:
- In a large pot, sear the beef bones on high heat until browned. This adds flavour.
- Add chopped onion and garlic. Cook until softened.
- Stir in tomato paste, paprika, thyme, bay leaf, salt, and pepper.
- Add carrots and potatoes, then pour in water until everything is well-covered.
- Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer for 1.5 to 2 hours, or until bones are tender and flavour is rich.
- Remove bay leaf. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed.
- Serve hot with fresh parsley on top — or however you remember it best.
I know it won’t taste exactly like hers.
But maybe that’s not the point.
Maybe the act of making it is the remembrance.
Maybe that’s what keeps the warmth alive.
So here’s to the soup that stayed warm — and to the woman who made it with love. If you’re craving more nostalgic recipes that feed both heart and soul, make sure to explore the rest of the blog.