Boy, I'm thankful my Polish ancestors left me with a legacy of such delicious food. All day, I kept thinking, my house smells like Babci's. Smells like that are as close as we can get to time traveling. Smells can bring you right back to being ten years old.
Years ago, when I got off the plane in Russia, everything smelled like borscht and vodka. Never been to Poland, but I imagine it smelling like cabbage and kielbasa.
Jeff had to drive to the hood to get the kielbasa. Believe me, this particular kielbasa is worth putting your life at risk. For his engagement in this risky kielbasa business, I'm declaring Jeff an honorary Pole. What's a little drive by shooting when you can smell the garlic a mile away?
Every time I make pierogi I am amazed by the skills of my Nana. Her pierogis always had the fanciest edges. I wish I had a photo to show you. I wonder if anyone ever took a photo of her pierogis. We should have!
They looked kind of like this, but better! Such a labor of love. It was all about the presentation. Went hand in hand with all the plates needing a doily.
My mom can do the fancy edge too. Once(or probably twice) my mom made dozens of pierogi for me to sell as a fundraiser for my school's Russian club. They all had the fancy edges. Thanks mom. That was really amazing. I now understand how much time that must have taken! They had blueberry filling and were big sellers at our school's homecoming carnival. They were probably on a plate with a doily too.
Mom has shown me how to make the fancy edges, but I never even try. I feel as though I've made a huge accomplishment when they simply stay sealed. So, mine look like this.
I always feel as though I'm getting gypped on frosting with that thin slice, but I slice it thin anyway.