Every Hanukkah, I surrender to the oil splatters all over my kitchen from making a batch of potato pancakes. It’s a tradition passed down from my Latvian grandmother, and it’s well worth the mess.
Every Hanukkah, I surrender to the oil splatters all over my kitchen from making a batch of potato pancakes. It’s a tradition passed down from my Latvian grandmother, and it’s well worth the mess.