Borscht topped with sour cream and dill, and vodka selection
Last week I was invited to celebrate Ukrainian Christmas (January 7th) with my neighbors. My heritage is Polish and the two cultures have many similarities. The food and company was superb. All of the food was home-made by Jurij, augmented with a few delicacies purchased from the local Russian deli. The evening of Slavic food–enhanced by generous samplings of five different quality vodkas–called to mind long-dormant memories of my Polish grandmother.
When I was young, she and my grandfather lived “upstairs” from us in a 3-level apartment house, so her name was forever “Upstairs Grandma.” I don’t remember her as one of those endearing “Mrs. Claus” kind of grandmothers, yet my outlook on life is influenced more by her than anyone else. She was a go-getter, way ahead of her time. A poster-child for Positivity, Grandma didn’t spend a lot of time reflecting on “coulda” and “shoulda.” She took what life brought and made it work for her. She loved learning, even though she never finished high school. Back in the 1960’s when every recipe started with, “Take a stick of butter,” Upstairs Grandma was drinking carrot juice, eating prunes, dishing up home-made oatmeal, and oven warm bran muffins. Besides her healthy food affinity, she was an excellent cook and to this day, no Leg of Lamb has ever come close to her Easter roast.
At holidays she would always prepare traditional Polish food. Babka, home-made horseradish and kielbasa at Easter. And pierogi at Christmas–extra special because I was allowed to help. In my mind, I can still see her apartment the week before Christmas. Every flat surface in the house would be covered with linen towels—chairs, tables, radiator boxes, the console TV—eventually to be filled with close rows of perfect half-rounds stuffed with cheesy mashed potatoes or sauerkraut and mushrooms. Grandma’s strong arms would be elbow deep in a large mound of soft yeasty dough that she kneaded to just the perfect consistency. My job was to cut out discs using a tuna can from a flat piece of dough rolled as long as the kitchen table. Grandma had years of practice placing just the right amount of filling, folding, sealing, and edging. I got one or two done to her dozens—and all mine broke apart once they hit the boiling water. Not counting my ‘duds’ Grandma would crank out probably 200 pierogi at a session. The assembly line of pierogi-making!
I kept the pierogi tradition up for many years, long after Upstairs Grandma moved away from New York to Florida. When I got married, my husband helped me stuff pierogi in our apartment in Taegu, Korea to celebrate our first Christmas together. I haven’t made the time to carry on this tradition for a long while. Upstairs Grandma passed away 15 years ago and my accountability for keeping the tradition alive waned. And so, the pierogi at our Ukrainian Christmas was especially welcome, made even more delicious by the personal heritage it re-kindled.
Our Ukrainian dinner menu:
- First course: Rye bread, locally made kielbasa, horseradish with beets, dill pickles, herring (three kinds…creamed, wine sauce, and spiced…I’m in heaven!)…and of course, chilled vodka.
- Second course: Borscht with sour cream and dill. The borscht I’ve made is vegetarian. This one was hearty with shreds of pork roast. Finished with a grind of pepper and a sprinkle of smoked sea salt, it was substantial enough to stand alone as a meal. Chilled vodka.
- Third course: Bigos (Polish Hunters Stew) and Pierogi served with sautéed onions. Chilled vodka (do you see a trend here?)
- Fourth course: tray of sweet cookies and chocolates with …Chilled vodka.
Time, distance, busy schedules, accessibility to convenience foods and restaurants…How do you keep your traditional food heritage alive to be passed down to the next generation?
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