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Latkes

We sat on the couch eating platefuls of warm latkes.  Their brown, crisp, and lacy exterior in perfect contrast to their soft and mellow insides.  The odor of grease, potatoes and onions still hangs in the air, taking form like the memory of Mother’s sweat.  She brings comfort, lifts our spirits and fills our bellies with a side of applesauce.

 

 

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