Because it’s a holiday weekend and the place I’d planned to eat at is closed, I end up at a restaurant called… Restaurant. Thinking it’s time to have some old school Hungarian food, I order the cabbage stew. It arrives. It isn’t pretty. But the first bite instantly transports me back to my Baba’s kitchen where there was always a pot of soup on the stove, bread, a little piece of meat and some sliced cucumbers with sour cream and paprika. This is the everyday food she and Jimmy liked to eat together… Nothing fancy but it sure tastes like home. 
poetry