on the fourth night, the oil was not only still hot, but hotter.
smokin' hot
in fact.
so they grated, they chopped, they fit many friends in the kitchen. all were giddy with excitement, albeit slightly disbelieving.
they lit the fourth candle. became quiet. said a prayer to HaShem quietly. smiled broadly.
and then. they mixed, and tasted, and seasoned, and threw in some fresh mint for brightness. they danced and embraced and told stories and laughed and delighted in being alive.
in having escaped.
two spoons were played on a knee, Yiddish was sung in that bluesy way. and then two spoons dipped into the sticky mix. egg shaped, large walnut dollops were carefully lowered into the miraculous oil.
a toast to life was made. L'Chaim!
spooned out of the black iron pot came
Vegetable Fritters.
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