Genetic memory is real, my friends. This thing that you see here in the picture is called Borodinsky bread. It’s a very traditional Russian bread. It’s chewy, heavy, thick, sour, very dark, and to a Russian-speaker the only thing that counts as bread.
I absolutely love it.
Klara rarely eats bread. But once she saw me with a slice of Borodinsky, she pounced and declared she loved it. There’s no explanation other than genetic memory.
When N and I see her with this bread and a bowl of borscht, it brings tears to our eyes.