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Yom HaShoah: The Gift of Food

When a Manhattan survivor takes to the kitchen, her dishes nourish far more than herself alone

Special to the Jewish Week
04/15/2010

The elevator door opens on the 12th floor and I inhale the heady scent of sautéed onions. I don’t have to wonder where the smell is coming from, I know: Eva is cooking.

From the first day that my husband and I moved into our East Side Manhattan apartment, we were greeted with the intoxicating food scents wafting through the door of my neighbor Eva’s apartment, just down the hall.

I ran into her in the corridor one day and told her how enchanted I was by the smell of her cooking.

The bread of affection: Eva Young at work in her kitchen.
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