by Jim Studer
The evening before, relatives and friends arrive. Tables are set up, sharp knives and other kitchen cutting tools are scattered. The cutting and chopping begins: cabbage, carrots, celery, green beans, onions, potatoes, rutabagas, tomatoes, and perhaps more.
Beef, chicken, pork, and perhaps venison are cooked to the bone. Then the meat is refrigerated overnight. The next morning a 10 to 15 gallon cauldron, which sits on a portable stove, begins to heat. The fat is skimmed off; the water and juices from the meat are dumped into the pot. The pounds of meat and the harvest of the vegetables are added to the brew. The spices, perhaps tied in a cloth bag, are thrown in. Remaining vegetables are added from time to time, depending on their destiny. What follows are hours of stewing and stirring. What does the process produce? Buja.
I was invited to my 93 year old Aunt Delores and family’s buja. When I told people where I was going or where I had been, the most common response was, “A what?”