It was a grand Friday the 13^th.

Yes, there were the roses...

Apparently, there was only one other valentine who thought to have roses arrive for his beloved in Friday. And, according to the wife, that newlywed's roses were "plain" red. Not the dark, velveteen that I ordered for her.

So, I did good.

And, of course, there was chocolate.

But then there was the Friday dinner.

Pierogi!

Not just any old pierogi, but Russian pierogi from Manitou.

Unfortunately, neither of us had ever cooked pierogi before. And youngest son had not paid attention while he was in Russia. And it'd been six weeks since the maker of these delicacies had told the wife how to prepare them.

Naturally, she hadn't written the instructions down.

So, the wife hit her cook books, and I hit the internet, and we ended up the same place.

They're ridiculously easy to prepare, once someone else has made them.

You boil them in salt water.

Until they float. Then a quick browning in either sauted butter or bacon grease (We used bacon. Not store bought stuff, but a special package of bacon from a butcher in Oklahoma.)

And they're ready to eat.

Mmmmm. Pierogi!