My grandmother lives in Port Richmond. It is a very Polish section of Philly. It has Polish travel agents, churches, deli's, funeral homes and of course bakeries. We walked over to the bakery to get some babka. It is a sweet bread paired with golden raisins and cheese. I could not leave the city without it.
I savored every bit of my piece this morning. I also went back for seconds and thirds. I broke up some for C-man thinking...he'll eat anything, let me try.
Nope, he turned his nose up and threw every last peice on the floor. I'll never know if LF likes it because she doesn't eat anything.
How could I have two children that don't like the best of the Polish food. I get not liking Keilbasa. But babka...I'm ashamed. This week I'm making Platski's, potato pancakes to the non-Polacks. I'm gonna make them love it.
Favorite Sinatra albums, et cetera
1 year ago