Relic

This was my mother's rolling pin. Her "really old" one. It was hardly used when I was a kid, as she favored a metal one that she could chill before using. I never remember her using this one.

Everyone seems to have a fancy French Rolling Pin. I prefer this one. Perhaps it is because I find comfort in using many of the old utensils, pans, and dishes that i have inherited from my family. They add magic to my cooking, and fill my heart with love.

Today, it rolled homemade scallion pancakes. They will be filled with 5-spiced beef. A treat for my daughter, who had lousy food at her Senior Prom, and spent the day watching the Food Network. She told me about a place in Canada that makes a similar dish, and I had to ease her teenaged angst.

I started this Blip to discover the pieces of the puzzle of who I am. This relic is a significant part of that puzzle.

I was born of kindred spirits from different cultures. One filled with exotic spices and dissonant music, the other, from the throes of Bolshevik despair.

My current journey includes telling the story of my parent's love, and for better or worse, I wouldn't have it any other way.

It's part of who I am.