It’s been a quiet and busy week. Lots of catching up to do at work after vacation and things to catch up on at home after being gone a week. Why do things need to be cleaned when I wasn’t even here for a week? Why does my refrigerator look like a barren wasteland? Seriously, the two cans of sparkling water, the slice of gouda cheese, and the almond milk sit shivering in their corners, waiting to see who will go first. (Say your goodbyes cheese.) Oddly enough, or maybe not, you know who has EVERYthing they need in surplus? Jessy the pup. That should attest to the hierarchy around here.

So I thought I’d take this opportunity to talk about food. Polish food, hillbilly food, all of it. I could talk for days about all of the food from both sides of my heritage, but I’ll limit myself to a few paragraphs here today. Grab your coffee, let’s discuss.

Ladies first so I will start with my mama’s heritage and Polish food. When I first moved to Florida in 2004 there was a little Polish deli in St. Augustine where I’d go pick up meats and bread and a few odds and ends before every visit back to West Virginia. I’d carefully wrap, chill, and carry these treasures back to Babcia and she’d be so happy. The deli was run by an older Polish gentleman with a booming voice and a friendly face. He wore a black flat cap over his grey hair. I would have a few things in mind that I knew I needed; I always had to have Polish rye bread and kabanosy (and plenty of both). Then I told him I was going home to visit my Polish mama and that she couldn’t get authentic Polish food where she lived so I asked what he would suggest. He would immediately head towards the meat counter and start pulling out sausages saying “Oh well, you gotta have some of this… and she’ll love this… you definitely need this one”. It got to the point where he would remember me; I’d order a few things to then hear him ask what else, and then he’d say “I know what you want” and he’d get a few more items for Babcia. Once Babcia came to visit me and I actually took her to the deli. I introduced them and they began to speak in Polish and laugh; I think it was a nice visit for them both. He was a total gentleman and let her sample whatever she liked. He even put some candy in her bag at no charge. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he was flirting. One day years later I went to the deli as I always did before heading home to find that it had shut down permanently. The building was up for sale. I have no idea what happened or why it closed, but it was a sad day indeed. I’ve since found a few local European stores that sell Polish food, but none are as good as the food that man sold in his deli. If you’ve never had kabanosy you must try it… it may be the best sausage ever made. There’s something about the Polish rye bread with it’s scent of caraway, it’s soft center and chewy crust that tastes just right with a little butter (maslo). Put bread in one hand and a kabanosy in the other and you’ve got a happy Babcia. Don’t even get me started on pierogi… whether filled with potato and onion, meat, sauerkraut or cheese, these little Polish dumplings are amazing topped with a little bacon or butter, or else with a side of sour cream. You can even fill them with fruit for a treat. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention some of the sweets such as paczki (Polish doughnuts filled with plum spread), poppy seed roll (makowiec) which is sweet and not bitter, and chrusciki or faworki (also called angel wings) which are little deep fried crusty pastries sprinkled in confectioner’s sugar. So many memories, so many calories.

Pinto beans and cornbread, potato soup, jelly rolls, fresh green beans, fried potatoes and onions, homemade drop biscuits, pepperoni rolls, fried green tomatoes… all foods I’ve eaten and watched my dad fix in our kitchen at one time or another. I think his favorites were pinto beans and cornbread or potato soup. While both seem fairly simple to make, there really is an art to both these dishes. I would watch him when he cooked, and I learned how to get the flavor and the consistency just right. Both pinto beans and potato soup are better eaten the second or even the third day as the flavors really combine and the soup thickens up nicely by then. I know you had to make cornbread with buttermilk for it to pass dad’s test. There was no sweet cornbread at our house. Corn meal, vegetable oil, and buttermilk were staples at our house. So was bacon grease, you didn’t dare just throw it out. It didn’t hurt to have a can of lard sitting around somewhere either just in case you needed it. Dad would make jelly rolls from scratch, making his own dough and filling it with whatever jelly or jam we had and then putting them in the oven. He liked to have something sweet with his coffee. If they didn’t turn out, we’d have to make a quick run to Jolly Pirate Donuts on first street. It was usually just he and I as we were the only ones up early in the morning, and he’d let me pick out a few donut flavors and of course I always got to choose the 13th donut and eat it on the way home. Speaking of sweets, my Mammaw made a mean chocolate pie. She also made delicious creamed corn. I love creamed corn and hominy. My aunt Joyce makes tasty tomato dumplings. I’m sure there are other well known family recipes (feel free to drop them under the recipes tab on this website everyone!)… we had our family reunions at Ritter park or Beech Fork or Mammaw and Pappaw’s house annually where everyone brought a dish and there was always an abundance of good country fixins. Dad liked to experiment in the kitchen, he was always trying out something he’d thought up and mixing flavors to see how it turned out. Sometimes it was an epic fail but sometimes he’d end up with something really delicious. I guess that goes back to his creative side. Now to all you West Virginians, let me address the one item you’ve probably noticed is missing from my West Virginia menu… ramps. I am ashamed to say I’ve never eaten ramps. I may have eaten them in a dish at some point, but I can’t remember ever sitting down and taking a bite of stand-alone ramps. It’s on my list… and if anyone has any tasty suggestions as to how to prepare them, put it under the recipes tab please!

My food memories are a world apart, but they all remind me of home. They all take me back to childhood and either being surrounded by dad’s family out in the country or traveling to Chicago and seeing my cousins, aunts, and uncles there and sharing meals with them (all day long). Both sides have given me so much culture. Both sides have fed me well.