So, in a small, rented unit close to Skytrain station, they opened “Galina’s Euro Food”. With shelves stacked with Borodinsky bread, jars of homemade pickles, fresh pelmeni, and smoked kolbasa, words quickly spread. Locals—both curious Canadians and nostalgic expats—lined up to taste Galinas’s pelmeni and homemade piroshki.

The store became more than a business; it became a community. Elderly immigrants gathered there to chat in Russian, while second-generation Canadians learned the stories behind the food their grandparents once made. What started as a way to survive became a way to thrive—and keep their heritage alive, one warm loaf and one dumpling at a time.