Cooking Borscht

Spaghetti and salad at Lodge, a soda, a bowl of cereal at home and a glass of water.

I forget the first 90% of this dream. A big, long journey, it feels.

Josh and I, after the travails, end up at Regina & Cornelius' house. We're in their spacious, old, high-ceilinged kitchen, which has white walls and orange linoleum floor. We have groceries. Regina arrives and begins insisting that she is going to have borscht, and that for once she deserves to have it made properly for her. She wants the onions CHOPPED. There is a big pile of green onions on the cutting board. I have no idea how to make borscht, but apparently she wants these CHOPPED, so I get to it. There is a big cleaver, but it is depressingly dull, and it's tending to smoosh and tear, rather than cleanly cleaving through. It's very frustrating.