英和和英

名詞

babusia (plural babusias)

1. A Polish grandmother.

   Synonym: babcia

   • 1982, Christine Szambelan-Strevinsky, chapter 8, in Dark Hour of Noon, New York, N.Y.: J. B. Lippincott Junior Books, →ISBN, page 65:

     Hanna sent food over when my babusia was sick.

   • 1983 December 14, Jean Tallman, “Christmas has a Polish flavor”, in St. Petersburg Times, Hernando Times edition, St. Petersburg, Fla., page 1, column 1:

     Now you can buy Polish sausage all ready for the pan any time you have a hankering for it. Good, some of it is, too. But when it is Christmas and your roots are in Poland, there is a chance the commercial product simply will not do. It’s got to be kitchen-made by you, as it was made by mama and babusia before you.

   • 1986 September 7, Peter Gavrilovich, “Labor of love: Women make 10,000 pierogi to benefit church”, in Detroit Free Press, volume 156, number 126, Detroit, Mich.: Detroit Free Press, Inc., →ISSN, page 11A, column 2:

     BUT WHAT about these pierogi? Looking at Helen [Szachta] you sense this is a woman who must be a master at making those morsels. Or Anne [Dresden], or Bea [Rybak] or Veronica [Grzena]. Nope. They never ate pierogi when they were kids. Or when they were, say, 50. “Listen, our mother never made pierogis,” Helen said. “And babusia (grandmother) never made pierogis,” Anne added.

   • 1989 September 1, Rafael Alvarez, “Baltimore’s Polish citizens recall war’s pain, heroism”, in The Sun, volume 305, number 93, Baltimore, Md., →ISSN, page 1:

     A little girl, a first-generation American, sat on her front steps near Broadway and translated dispatches from Europe in the local papers into Polish for older women dressed in black, the eyes of the old “babusias” growing wide and small as they heard the names of besieged cities, towns and villages.

   • 1991, Irena Konczak, “[Poland] Bialy Barszcz Wielkanocna (White Easter Barszcz)”, in Tom Bernardin, The Ellis Island Immigrant Cookbook, updated edition, New York, N.Y.: Tom Bernardin, Inc., published July 1997, →ISBN, page 78:

     This recipe was handed down by my babusia (grandmother).

   • 2023, José Andrés, World Central Kitchen, with Sam Chapple-Sokol, “[Hope: Stews, Soups, and Warming Meals] Ukrainian Borsch”, in The World Central Kitchen Cookbook: Feeding Humanity, Feeding Hope, New York, N.Y.: Clarkson Potter/Publishers, →ISBN, page 164, column 1:

     There are as many recipes for borsch as there are babusias (grandmothers), and at our kitchen in Poland, right on the border with Ukraine, we made many different versions, depending on who was cooking and what recipe their grandmother taught them (for more about our work in Ukraine, see Sharing Joy in a Brutal World, page 270).

   • 2024, Margot Mustich, When Grandmas Cook: In the Kitchen with Grandmas, Nonnas, and Abuelas‎, Naperville, Ill.: Sourcebooks:

     Learn about some delicious and wonderful meals, including chicken soup, tamales, pasta, and borscht, that abuelas, nonnas, babusias, and other grandmas around the world make with and for their grandchildren.

語源 2

名詞

babusia (plural babusias)

1. Alternative spelling of babusya (“Ukrainian grandmother”).
   • 2000, Ania Savage, “Birth of an Independent Nation”, in Return to Ukraine (Eastern European Studies; 12), College Station, Tex.: Texas A&M University Press, →ISBN, page 177:

     Ukrainian became the language of the poor, the ignorant, and the backward. In the meantime, Soviet Ukrainian leaders, mimicking [Mikhail] Gorbachev, were saying that their babusias (the diminutive form of babushkas, or grandmothers) spoke a quaint tongue, but that Homo sovieticus was a man above quaintness and folklore.

   • 2010 September, Tatijana Jacenkiw, “My Babusias: Companions on a personal journey”, in Our Life, volume LXVII, number 9, UNWLA, Inc., page 6, column 2:

     I took photographs from afar, unbeknownst to them, that I would later use for my painting. There was one exception—the subject of my first babusia painting “Quietude,” a woman I had met in my mother’s house in Ukraine, a friend of the family. […] The rest of my babusias were strangers whom I never met until I began painting them several years later.

   • 2012 October, Ksenia Rychtycka, “Homecoming: Summer 1990”, in Crossing the Border: Stories, Johnson City, Tenn.: Little Creek Books, →ISBN, page 7:

     Volodya, his government-appointed driver who usually ferries him across town without comment, has offered him coffee, poppyseed bulochky that some old babusias are selling inside the station and, in desperation to get Stefko to relax, his own pack of cigarettes.

   • 2022 February, Marg Heidebrecht, “Invading”, in Mosaic Through East-Facing Glass: A Collection of Personal Essays, Altona, Man.: FriesenPress, published 2024, →ISBN, page 77:

     While I fret over war play, legions of grandmothers witness invasions in real time. Today, it’s the babusias in Kyiv.

   • 2022 June 17, Anna Voloshyna, “How a root cellar saved my Ukrainian family when the war came”, in The Washington Post‎, Washington, D.C.: The Washington Post Company, →ISSN, →OCLC, archived from the original on 30 March 2023:

     When I was growing up in Ukraine, every time I stayed at my grandmother’s house, we would go into her root cellar to pick something delicious for our next meal. She would open the creaky door and hold my hand because the steps were so steep that the slightest stumble could result in a major accident. By the third step, I could reach out my right arm and find the switch to a dim bulb that would illuminate my happy place: a magical culinary kingdom filled with rows of fermented vegetables, preserved fruits, radiant bottles of golden sunflower oil, and jugs of grandma’s homemade wine that she, my babusia, is so proud of.

   • 2022 October 1, Speers Funeral Chapel, “[Obituaries] DMYTRUSZEWSKI, Olga”, in National Post (Regina Leader-Post), Regina, Sask.: Postmedia, →ISSN, page NP6:

     Thank you so much to the staff of Extendicare Parkside who were family to mom/babusia throughout the last ten years of her life.

   • 2023, Valeriya Goffe, “Uncle Stepan’s Store”, in Secrets We Keep, Adams Basin, N.Y.: The Wild Rose Press, Inc., published 2024, →ISBN, part I:

     The market was located right next to the railway station and a lot of passengers had just gotten off the latest train. Many of them were babusias (old ladies) who wore colorful headscarves.