Tuesday, February 07, 2017

Growing up, I used to go with my grandma to visit her sister on Long Island pretty regularly. We'd go to the cemetery so she could spend time with her beloved and visit her parents, then go spend the day with Aunt Julia. Her house always smelled like chicken paprikash or stuffed cabbage, one of which was always simmering. There were always lekvar cookies to snack on. She and my grandma would slip into speaking Hungarian and they would laugh & laugh. On the way to visit, my grandma & I would always stop for a snack at a deli on the way. We'd always get the same thing-a coke and a knish. I'd sit in the front seat of my grandma's Cadillac and eat very carefully (grandma was kind of a clean freak). I've been sharing with @stratoblast a lot about my ethnic heritage lately, and how closely related food is to it. Somehow, I got diverted by a knish and a memory of being with my grandma...and knowing I can't find them in South Dakota. Tonight, I made one from scratch for old times sake, toasting my grandma with a coke. #misshersomuch #hungarianprincess #itsallaboutthefood #tokengentile

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