I had a profound thought while making latkes for lunch today. It's not everyday I can say that, so let me enjoy it for a second...

OK. 

One of my favourite memories of childhood is standing around in the kitchen waiting for the next lot of potato cakes to be ready as they came from the frypan. It wasn't a sitdown meal at all but more like waiting for them to come off the conveyor belt.

So I make them for my family.  And every time I do, I think "Is this really worth it?" They take so long, I get so hot and they're gone so soon.

As I'm about halfway through the batch T1 says "I love it when we have potato latkes." And I think of that enduring memory I have and hope it will be the same for him.

Some things are worth doing, even if they are hard and boring and tiring and don't last long.

That night I  spoke to my mum on the phone. "Did you enjoy making grated potato cakes?" I asked.  

What was her answer?  "I can't say that I ever exactly enjoyed making them..." 

I'm so glad she did!