Little Love #1: Frozen Leftovers

I've decided, for my own selfish reasons, to begin a modest little series of "little loves:" minor things that make me disproportionately happy. I don't spend enough time celebrating these things, I don't think, so I'm trying to change that, and to share my tiny excitements with all of you.

I could, of course, just embrace my own Goop-iness and call this what it is—a stupid little gratitude journal—but I've got too much pride for that. So here we go.

Little Love Number One: Defrosting and eating six-month old frozen leftovers 

A few days ago, I dug into my freezer and pulled out the verenika I'd been saving. Verenika, in case I caught you unawares, is a gift from on high: little pierogi-type dumplings filled with cottage cheese and covered in ham gravy. They're a cornerstone of Mennonite cuisine, and I used to eat them every year as a kid. My parents would take us to Hutchinson, Kansas, for the annual MCC Sale, and we'd load up on the stuff. My sister and I went with our mom in April, and we both froze some to eat later on.

I'd held out for half a year, and now my wait is over. I'm eager for the small comfort of this food, this piece of my youth and my family history. I know they won't be as good as they are fresh, but verenika are like fries: even when they're bad, they're still pretty good.