I love gorgeous family and food memoirs like this and it filled me with nostalgia as soon as I saw the name Olya since almost all my Polish mother's friends were Genya, Sonya, Fanya, Manya and so on. Such a different name world than the one around us in New York.
PS: I'm not the cook my mother was, but often when I look at my fridge I'll see the makings of a light tapas dinner: various cheeses, olives, sausage, and fruit.
A beautiful read. Your words drew me in, giving me a seat at the table too. Olya got it right. While sweating the onions and adding more broth may fill our bowls, it is sharing it with others that fills our hearts. She would be proud that you remembered those lessons.
It reminded me of traditions in my former life, when company was more important than worrying about serving a fancy dinner in china plates. Mom or dad could prepare something out of whatever was available, and serve it in mismatched dinnerware. In the end, both guests and hosts felt enriched for having spent quality time together... Thank you!
Originally, I am from the Midwest and one of my aunts always, always, had a spare cup of coffee, iced tea, or a plate for anyone that came in. She was not that concerned about the kitchen being tidy, but rather time to visit and feed someone.
I love gorgeous family and food memoirs like this and it filled me with nostalgia as soon as I saw the name Olya since almost all my Polish mother's friends were Genya, Sonya, Fanya, Manya and so on. Such a different name world than the one around us in New York.
The names of my childhood - roll off the tongue so easily...
And sometimes a very American or Anglo name will strike me as weird. :-)
Lovely. Nothing like making soup from tired vegetables!
Indeed!
PS: I'm not the cook my mother was, but often when I look at my fridge I'll see the makings of a light tapas dinner: various cheeses, olives, sausage, and fruit.
Love this! Sweet Story!
Thankyou
A beautiful read. Your words drew me in, giving me a seat at the table too. Olya got it right. While sweating the onions and adding more broth may fill our bowls, it is sharing it with others that fills our hearts. She would be proud that you remembered those lessons.
Thankyou and yes she filled our hearts.
A beautiful memoir in honor of Aunt Olya!
It reminded me of traditions in my former life, when company was more important than worrying about serving a fancy dinner in china plates. Mom or dad could prepare something out of whatever was available, and serve it in mismatched dinnerware. In the end, both guests and hosts felt enriched for having spent quality time together... Thank you!
Yes exactly!
Originally, I am from the Midwest and one of my aunts always, always, had a spare cup of coffee, iced tea, or a plate for anyone that came in. She was not that concerned about the kitchen being tidy, but rather time to visit and feed someone.
Exquisite, pitch-perfect piece. I loved every word -- and tired carrot.
This made me happy, made me sad, so much nostalgia, loved it Anna. Life isn’t like this anymore. Thanks for bringing back memories.
Beautiful Anna. I started reading and within a few sentences I said to myself this is Anna Rumin's voice - and sure enough it was.