Birthdays are an interesting thing. Of course as a little kid, birthdays were the best day of the year—you are the birthday prince or princess and anything you say or want, goes. But as you grow older, things change. The day looses its luster for some and then others find that they’re better off without the yearly reminder that time is ticking away. Most likely the hedonist in me, I’ve always loved birthdays. Not only is it an excuse to eat, drink, and be all sorts of merry, but it’s also an occasion to bring together the people in your life to do so. And even when it’s not your birthday you’re celebrating, you can do what I did as a 4-year old and pout in the corner until you get a present too. Sorry, Mom.
Read MoreIf I had to choose one dish that embodied home for me it is my mother’s borscht, a traditional Eastern European beet soup. There is nothing like sitting down to a piping hot bowl of it, a dollop of thick sour cream slowly swirled in, and for the heck of it, another dollop (or two) smeared on a hearty chunk of bread. Just looking at its gemstone color warms my soul, but one bite—spicy, sweet, sour, rich and creamy—fills me with all sorts of cozy, comforting feelings.
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