A couple of weeks ago, we went to Cleveland for a long weekend for a mid-winter family picnic. J's family are a fun bunch, mostly central European stock. The hotel we selected was only a couple of miles from the Pierogi shop. Always a fun place.
We took J's mother out to dinner one time and I ordered Ravioli, she was curious what it was. I showed her, she tried one, and said, "why don't they just call them Pierogi, like everyone else?" I miss Lill.