My ex-boyfriend's mother used to make this German liver-loaf concoction called pritt. (I don't know if that's the right way to spell it or not.) She'd make this loaf, slice it up, fry it, and put pancake syrup on it. She said it was the only way she could get the boys to eat liver. I went home with him one Christmas... his mom was a great cook, and I like liver, but I never could decide about the pritt.

The old story is in my family, that a great-grandmother had thrown out a perfectly good fruitcake, in front of several drooling children, because she thought the little green fruits in it were "pizen."

I regret that my family situation growing up did not produce any especially happy memories. However, I'm making up for that now. I heard it's never too late to have a happy childhood. :-)