7th
The Last Sentence is Meant to be Read With a Yiddish Lilt
A while back I thought about keeping a food journal, just a small notebook where I could jot down which of my friends or guests liked which dish or dessert. This way, the next time I’d host them, I’d know which staples to make again and what direction to take the menu in. Then I forgot and then when I remembered I got lazy. But somehow my Bubby (whom I share with 70 other grandchildren) does this effortlessly without even writing anything down. She knows my favorite is her (amaaaaazing) Rollee Cake and used to send one home with my father for me when he’d visit without us.
“You’d think she has no other grandchildren,” my father said to me while watching Bubby look through pictures with my sister. There’s a reason, I realized, that every one of my aunts thinks one of their kids is her favorite. But how does she do it? Did her German father and Swiss mother give her a brain so organized that she can neatly file everything away and access it with no issue? Is it because her only job was raising a family of five boys and four girls and notebooks are too easily misplaced? The more I think about it, the more I marvel at how good a grandmother I’ve got. My grandchildren should be this lucky. :)
