There are things that one misses from childhood.
Remembered flavors; favorite dishes. For most of us, those flavors are reproducible. They are our mother’s and grandmother’s recipes lovingly passed from generation to generation.
But for me, capturing the fleeting flavors of my childhood is not as easy. I was 7 and a half when I left the Ukraine with my family. Leaving behind the gregarious circle of the women who shaped my impressions of food and cooking.
These were the kind of women, like most of their generation that cooked well but did so by feel and taste. And because back then communication was limited, my mother came with only the recipes that she cooked often.
And so my absolute childhood favorite was lost.