The Essential Baba Recipe: Soup That Fixes Everything

Tuesday, 20 January 2026.

Baba = Grandmother (Croatian, native to Dalmatia)

Faced with this weird January weather, I found myself stirring a pot of liquid gold: my Baba’s goveđa juha, literally translated to “beef soup” or more fashionably known these days as beef bone broth. I grew up on Baba’s juha, made sure my children did, and will be making sure my grandchildren do too. There is nothing like it for both simplicity, taste, and healing. In our house (probably in all of Croatia), it’s officially recognised as The Soup That Heals Everything.

You do need to allow around two to three hours simmering time, and even though here in the land of weekly deliveries and instant gratification where we’ve glorified the quick fix, there’s almost zero effort involved. Some things demand time. They demand simmering. They demand patience. And Baba’s beef bone broth? It demands all of that but gives back tenfold.

The thing about this soup is that it wasn’t ever measured. It was felt. You measure with the wisdom passed down through hands that have made it a thousand times before. There’s no perfect amount of noodles or precise number of celery stalks.

But for those of us who need a little more guidance than “a feeling,” here’s my attempt to translate Baba’s magic into something you can recreate in your own kitchen. Think of it as an act of slow, deliberate love.

Baba’s Goveđa Juha (The “Fix Everything” Beef Bone Broth)

(Side note: This is my best guess at Baba’s alchemy. As good as my own soup is I don’t know that it will ever live up to hers.)

What You’ll Need:

• The Bones: About 1-1.5 kg (2-3 lbs) beef bones, preferably marrow bones. Ask your butcher, they’ll know. (Try not to skip bones, as this is where the real healing power comes from!)
• The Meat: A good boney cut of beef with some meat on it, my two favourites are either beef osso bucco or beef spare ribs (I know the asado cut of ribs was Baba’s number one choice), about 500g. The meat adds richness and you can add it back to the soup before serving.
• The Veg: 2-3 carrots, 2 parsnips, 2 large potatoes, 1 large onion (peeled but left whole or halved), a small piece of celeriac (celery root) or 2-3 full celery stalks including leaves, half a swede, one tomato, and a few cloves of garlic.
• The Flavour: A few sprigs of fresh parsley, 1-2 fresh bay leaves, some fresh black pepeprcorns, a pinch of salt, and around a tablespoon of the ubiquitous Croatian chicken flavoured seasoning Vegeta (feel free to swap for regular salt). Start with smaller amounts of salt then adjust later.
• The Liquid: Plenty of cold water (enough to cover everything by a good inch or two).
• The Finishing Touch (for serving): Fresh flat leaf parsley (never curly), chopped fine, and any small delicate soup-appropriate pasta, like vermicelli or risoni.

How We Make Magic:

1. A Good Rinse: First, give your bones and meat a quick rinse under cold water. This isn’t strictly necessary for flavor, but Baba always did it so we’re not asking questions.
2. The Gentle Start: Add everything (bones, meat, all the veg, flavour makers, and seasoning) to a very large pot. Cover everything generously with cold water. This is key for drawing out all the goodness.
3. Simmer: Bring it to a very gentle simmer over medium heat. Don’t boil it aggressively! As it heats, you’ll see some foamy scum rise to the top. Skim this off with a spoon. This keeps your broth clear and clean, just like Baba liked it. (Full disclosure: I have many a time forgotten to scrape off the scum and don’t think anyone noticed).
4. The Long Wait: Reduce the heat to low, cover the pot (leaving a tiny crack for steam), and let it simmer for at least 3 hours. The longer, the better. The house will start to smell like pure comfort.
5. The Strain: Carefully remove the meat and bones from the pot. Strain the entire broth through a fine-mesh sieve into another large bowl or pot. Now in Baba’s house we liked to eat the boiled meat and veggies because to throw it out was sacrilegious, but you can also add some of the carrot (roughly mashed is fine) back to the strained broth along with some of the meat shredded into pieces.
6. Taste and Adjust: Taste your broth. Now is the time to add more salt if needed, as well as the fresh parsley. It shouldn’t need more than a tweak.
7. The Pasta: add some of the small soup pasta to the broth, you want the broth to be the star and not the pasta. Simmer until pasta is done.
8. Serve with Love: Ladle the hot broth into bowls. Dobar tek.

Every time I make this, I close my eyes and I’m back there. In Baba’s kitchen, sitting at that indestructable Formica table. Surrounded by the warmth, the smells, and the undeniable feeling of being treasured, loved.

It’s more than just a recipe. It’s a connection to my roots, a reminder of what truly nourishes, and a delicious act of rebellion against the fast food of modern life.

What’s your “fix everything” dish? The one that brings you back home, no matter where you are?