Celebrating at Ma and Pa Apple's House

Last night we went over to my parent's house for dinner and my mom had mentioned that she would make a few things for dinner.  We have a rule that we don't eat before we come over to my parents' house- for several hours if we can help it, because while I practice moderation, my mom does not when it comes to preparing foods for her guests.  She is a self-taught gourmet chef and does everything in lightening speed, so I'm honored to be able to share her meal with you all!

Here is the whole spread.  It's missing a veggie salad for some reason. 

Mind you- there were 4 of us:

 Sauteed vegetables:

 

Vegetable-stuffed trout:

 

2 different kinds of chicken:

 

 Stuffed Mushrooms:

 

Chicken Piroshki:

 

 My mom's famous fried potatoes (quite possibly the reason my dad married her and why they have been married for over 35 years):

 

We also had to have dessert because we were obviously still starving after this meal.  My mom showed off her coffee skills with this bad boy and we brought some See's candy:

 

The chef and I:

 

 My date for the evening:

 

 I could possibly suffer the silent treatment for the picture below, but it was too good not to show.  My dad is quite intrigued with the concept of blogging and wanted to show the muscat grapes he bought us.  The rest is just magic- look at these two!

 

Celebrating

I interrupt the typical self-involved, fiber-filled posting for a second to recognize the significance of our dinner. 

While we were a day early, we came over to celebrate an event that happened 20 years ago, on October 24, 1989.   It was the day that we completed our immigration from the former Soviet Union and arrived to our new home in the San Francisco Bay Area.  I was only 5 and without a single care- ready to start my adventure in America, filled with Mickey Mouse dreams and Bubblicious Bubble Gum wishes.  My parents arrived with the fear that comes with abandoning one's family and moving to start your life all over again.  Their dream, similar to that of thousands of other Soviet immigrants (including my husband's family) was to take their children out of an environment that provided no future to a place that would give them new hopes.

We say that there are few real heroes in the world, but I would disagree- the selfless act of my parents has given my brother and I opportunities that would never be possible in Ukraine.  It has allowed us to meet our spouses and build meaningful lives for ourselves.  Their hard work has shown us that rolling your sleeves up works better than just thinking about it and hoping things work out.  For this, I will be forever grateful, even if I have a funny way of showing it sometimes!

My parents and I, 1989

P.S. I think I did overdose on Bubblicious gum that year.