One last thing, and it is optional
One kolache memory, in your own words.
Two sentences or two hundred. The kitchen, the baker, the smell, the argument. This is the part historians will thank you for.
The size. The dough. The filling your family swears by, and the word you use for it. Every choice is a clue to the region your people left behind.
Twenty-six questions, about three minutes. Answer for the kolache of your childhood, however your family made it. No judgment. Okay, minimal judgment.