My grandmother is known for the baked goods she used to make. Everything from hearty breads to fine pastry in the most elegant Viennese tradition. There are many fond recollections of her Pisinger Torta and Sachertorte, babka and rugulah, cakes and cookies… anything you could imagine.

It wasn’t until a year or so ago, though, that I found out our baking tradition goes back much further.

My great-great-grandmother was a baker back in Yugoslavia. Or rather, her husband was a baker. They baked bread and rolls. Grandma Rose took over the business while he was gone fighting in World War I. He perished in a Siberian camp leaving her with three young children in a land with ever-changing borders. But Grandma persevered. She eventually learned five languages in order to continue to operate under the rule of various invaders. And she saved enough to get herself and her children safely to America before World War II.

Grandma Rose went on to bake in the States, both for fun and profit. But it is always the image of her providing the more basic breads to her community that inspires me.