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Once upon a time, there was a wonderful cantor in the Jewish community of Cologne, Shimon Ben Zeev. And he had an equally remarkable wife, Hedva. She was the embodiment of what one might imagine an English lady to be—always impeccably groomed, with an ideally kept home, beautiful napkins, delicious tea, and mouthwatering cakes.
The recipe for crepes that Lexie’s father used to make every Sunday to ensure the family had breakfast together. As they grew older, it became harder to gather at the same time, but Sunday crepes were a cherished tradition that brought back a sense of calm and family harmony.
My grandparents lived in Tbilisi (my grandfather was a Tbilisi Armenian, and my grandmother, a Jew on her mother’s side, evacuated to Georgia from Kharkiv as a teenager and stayed there). When I was little, in the 1980s, every winter, they would send us a package from sunny Georgia to our home in the Moscow suburbs.
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