Peshe was one of 6 siblings and their mother who came to the US from Belarus in the early part of the 20th century.  Peshe and her husband Harry Abramson arrived together and I think landed in Boston, although I haven’t found records to support that yet.

As most other Russian and Polish Jews who arrived in the country in those days, they were Orthodox Jews. The men attended and prayed in shul regularly and the women kept kosher homes and said the Sabbath prayers over the candles.  I’m told by one of her nephews, that Peshe was known as a “women’s libber” and that she gave spirited talks “on soapboxes” to other women to encourage them to demand their rights.

It’s hard for me to imagine my grandmother as anything but an aged woman, shuffling around the apartment with a walker after she fell and broke her hip when she was 67.  But I often went to her house after school was over until my parents were home from work, and sometimes I stayed overnight in her apartment on 305 New Scotland Avenue when she was living alone.  Looking back, the things I remember most vividly were her twinkling sense of humor, her urges to push me to eat something (“It’s not fattening--just a few nuts covered with chocolate!”), and the homemade schnapps she kept in the cupboard for when grandpa visited or for when someone felt sick.

I also remember the kugel and blintzes that she made. The kugel was simple and savory, not sweet as many kugels I ate later in life.  And she taught me to make the thin pancake batter to turn into light delicate blintzes stuffed with slightly sweetened farmer’s cheese.  Neither dish was fancy with sauces and spices, but I’ve never had either dish since without thinking that it didn’t come up to how delicious hers were.