My Baba Sarah didn’t invent blueberry varenikes, but I didn’t know that when I was a kid. The boiled dumplings she made every August filled not with potato or cheese or meat, as you might expect, but with fresh berries, seemed completely her own, and growing up on the Canadian prairie, I wasn’t aware of another kid or family who ate them — just me, my sisters and my cousins, together in our delicious, foreign secret. Now I know that varenikes belong to the entire nation of Ukraine, and that we w...