I've always loved Eastern European food. My Lithuanian grandmother was a wonderful cook, with a constantly-in-use, steamy, pungent kitchen (I still judge all meat blintzes against hers, and they usually come up wanting). Starting, as a child, with family treks to the Russian restaurants on Clement Street (our favorite: the late-lamented Miniature Bakery Restaurant), I frequented Polish, Romanian, Hungarian places, whatever I could find, with happy results. (In Cold War years, Russian establishments were often cagey: In Los Angeles, they billed themselves as... More >>>