The Power of Pierogis
My grandmother was not the warmest of women. She could be harsh and aloof and we did not share a close relationship; in fact, I barely knew her. She was extremely private, a trait I always attributed to her growing-up in Ukraine and Germany between two world wars. She was hard. Not quick to smile. She seemed to shoulder a great anger that could never be let go.
Her cheeks were soft- she smelled like onions gently browning in butter.
I wish I’d known her better- that we’d shared some kindred granddaughter-grandmother relationship that was unique to just us; that I could never lose; but I guess that’s somebody else’s story, not mine.
Alwina, my grandmother, was a cook. She worked in the kitchens at UC Davis for the majority of her adult life, helping my grandfather support their seven kids. She and my grandfather had a little side catering business, mostly for the local Polish and German communities, cooking traditional foods from their home countries. She loved to cook. I believe that it was the only thing that brought true joy to her life. She enjoyed feeding people. My first culinary memories are with her, with her food: potatoes, browned onions, and butter. I still dream about her pierogi. Holidays at “The Grandparents” (how we called them in my family) were serious business. Alwina turned her kitchen and dining area into a mini restaurant, with blush-colored table linens (it was the 80’s), carnations in small porcelain vases, and a dazzling and generous silver buffet line with sausages, sauerkraut, potatoes, and pierogi- my very favorite. Grandfather would tend bar- root beer in a small stein for me- vodka and beer for everyone else. There was always a game on in the TV Room and there was almost always polka music in the kitchen. When I look back on these memories, especially after having worked as a cook for over 10 years and knowing how much work goes into creating a meal like that, I can’t help but see her in a new light; her harsh edges that always made her so distant and intimidating start to soften. I recognize a common thread between us- our love for feeding people. Maybe that was her gift to me and I never even saw it.
As I turn my memories over and look at them, not with the eyes of the child I was, but as the woman I’ve become, I think that I understand her a little bit better. I think that cooking for her family may have been the only way she knew how to show us, “I love you”.
Alwina’s Pierogi
For the filling:
Boil 3 medium yukon gold or russet potatoes, peeled, until fully cooked.
Drain and mash them with salt to taste, (about 2-3 tsp) and 2-3 Tbs butter
Fo the the dough:
In a bowl, combine:
1 egg, beaten
1/2 tsp salt
1 c water
Slowly mix in 3 c self-rising flour and knead until you have a stiff dough
On a floured surface, roll out the dough to 1/8” thick
Use a 3” biscuit or cookie cutter (or jar lid) to cut out as many rounds as you can
For Garnish:
Small dice 1 onion and brown it in a 1-2 Tbs butter over medium heat until the onions are a caramel brown color
A few sprigs of fresh dill, torn
To assemble:
- Place 1 tsp of filling off-center in the dough circles
- Fold over to make a half moon shape and crimp the edges closed with your fingers or the tines of a fork.
- Drop into a large pot of boiling water, salted with a few Tbs sea salt, and simmer until the pierogi float like fluffy pillows on the surface of the water
- Pull out with a slotted spoon and put directly into a heated pan (over medium -high heat) coated with oil in a single layer to brown the side of the pierogi.
- Remove, and set aside somewhere warm
- Repeat until all pierogi are browned
Plate on a platter and cover with the browned onions and fresh dill
Serve with a side of sour cream