Quote by Stacey Ballis

“My leetle baba romovaya." He grins widely and opens his arms to me, letting the rake fall where it may, and calling me by the endearment of my childhood, a reference to a yeasty cake soaked in cherry juice and plum brandy and covered in a creamy sauce- round and plump and pink and sweet, which is how he saw me. "Come give Papa a kisseleh." I put my arms around him, and kiss his cheek, smooth-shaven and smelling of bay rum. "Hello, Papa." "How are you doing, eh? No work meedle of day?" He shakes his hand up and down. "So fancy!" "Got done early, thought I'd come make pelmeni with Mama." He smiles even wider, closes his eyes and inhales deeply, as if he can already smell the little meat dumplings, swimming in butter and onions and dunked in rich, thick sour cream.”

Quote by Stacey Ballis