I met Rose Ta My at an all-night party at the Château du Feÿ, a castle about an hour south of Paris. I assumed she was French, but at one point in the night she said, “I heard you were writing a book about Polish baking. I’m from Warsaw!” Our insobriety prevented us from having the conversation I needed to have with her at that moment. “What’s your favorite Polish pastry?” I shouted at her over the music. “The rose jam pączki! I think because of my name!” she yelled back. W
