Sweet Legacy

December 23, 2021

About 125 years ago, my great-grandmother Karolina was 18 and living in a section of Poland called Galicia. Her parents had plans for her to marry, but Karolina was in love with a young man named Sylvester and wanted nothing to do with the other guy. She made her way to Elizabeth, NJ and started working in a restaurant; her specialty was her family recipe for chrusciki. One day, a "distinguished gentleman customer" (so says the family narrative) was so taken with the pastry that he demanded to meet the cook. He told Karolina that if she would come work for him at his restaurant in Pennsylvania, he would pay her well. She took the job and made enough money to bring Sylvester to the U.S., where they had seven children, among them my grandmother Josephine. So to a certain extent, I owe my very existence to some deep-fried dough—the most heavenly, light, flaky, deep-fried dough on Earth—even on its own, a reason to emigrate.

I use the word "owe," but I'm using it loosely: Even though I'm super-grateful to be here on the planet, I don't actually consider myself to have a debt to any of my ancestors, including my parents. I try to emphasize this to my kids: Our girls owe me and David nothing, beyond the respect and decency they owe any other human. After all, we put them into a tough situation—living on Earth—on purpose, through no fault or design of theirs, so it's our obligation to get them to where they can manage on their own.

The holiday season can exacerbate that who-owes-who-what skirmishing, with people measuring their worth in presents given and presents received. "Hey, she got more! I want my fair share!" "Why didn't you think harder / spend more / wrap prettier?" Some families try to step out of the dynamic with their own kids, only to be defeated by the one-upsmanship in their extended families. It can be a tough time of year.

I don't have an easy solution for this, but I do have one gift suggestion that will be met with universal enthusiasm (except, sadly, among the dieting or gluten intolerant): a festive basket of chrusciki (pronounced croosh-CHEEK-ee). It's straightforward to make (and time-consuming enough to count as a labor of love), and is in no way confined to descendants of gutsy Poles. Chrusciki Neutrality, I say!...and so would Karolina and Josephine. I published the recipe here on KidsOutAndAbout for your holiday baking enjoyment. It's probably terrible for the arteries, but it's delicious for the soul.

Careful, though. Everyone will want their fair share.

—Deb