Every year, on Good Friday, a lovely group of ladies that are very dear to my heart, gather at my mom's house for a few hours of egg cracking, kneading, and a lot of laughs. We roll out surprisingly large amounts of dough to make babka, a sweet bread that represents Easter to my Polish heritage. Filled with poppy seeds, sweetened cream cheese, or left plain, we eat it for weeks and months to come(after thawing it!).
When the World Feels Awful
1 day ago