The Promised Pierogi Post

Mmm...embracing my heritage...with my mouth.

When I was about three years old, my family moved South from Connecticut to western Tennessee. While there were things about the south my parents did enjoy – the longer gardening season, milder winters and wide open skies, there were a few things they missed about life in New England. Many of these things were of the edible variety. So every so often we would receive a care package of pumpernickel bread and hermit cookies from Rita’s bakery, banana Cream of Wheat, and a box or two of Devil Dogs and Drake’s Coffee Cakes. While my brother and I delighted at the sweets and our favorite flavor of hot cereal, we were less thrilled when our Christmas presents would arrive pungently scented with the aroma of pickled herring from of a broken jar mourned by our father.

Summer was the time when we would get our fill of our favorite foods still considered exotic in the Central time zone. Usually around the Fourth of July, my parents, brother and I would hit the road and drive the 1000 miles from just outside of Nashville to the home of my father’s parents in Naugatuck, Connecticut. For a week we feasted on Hummel Hot Dogs, Wise Potato chips, sandwiches on Millette’s bread with its gum-scraping crust. Our large family (my dad was one of 11 kids) would gather for a picnic before watching the town fireworks from the hill in my grandparents’ front yard. It was classic summer kid stuff. For me, the only thing that marred it was, the one thing worse than vinegar and fish liquid soaked into a stuff animal: Cold Beet Soup.

I was determined it was set up by the adults to be a trap for us kids. It’s a hot day, you’ve been running around catching up with cousins you haven’t seen in a year, your cheeks are sticky and flushed, your hair is stuck with sweat to your head and you sidle up to the picnic table looking for refreshment. Skip over the pickle plate with its cocktail onions and olives (later to be eaten one by one off of each of your fingers), past the lunchmeat, the shriveling hotdogs, the bags of buns and hard rolls, potato salad, coleslaw, until your eye settle on a big pot surrounded by ice. In that pot is something that looks so majestically sweet in its hot pink raspberry-ness, the metal container giving off a cool breeze. Your aunt offers to serve up a bowl for you and you nod with a “yes please” as she scoops a dollop of white fluffy cream on top. You take your bowl to a spot under the shade of a large tree and scoop a big spoonful of it to your mouth expecting sweetness and cream but no. Instead, you get a big mouthful of vinegar and beet and sour cream.

It scared me. It kept me from beets for years.

Seriously, doesn't this look like dessert?

It wasn’t until, in my early twenties, I was served a slice of Mark Bittman’s Rosemary and Beet Rosti and fell in love with the red root. It was a reunion of sorts, as I now believe a certain percentage of my Lithuanian and Polish blood must be concentrated beet juice. It is pure earthiness with a sweetness I can now appreciate, and do appreciate often in salads, on burgers, and in that palette enlightening rosti.

That rosti started an exploration of the foods that used to fill my grandmother’s kitchen, the dishes my father would request if we happened to travel up for a Thanksgiving or Easter visit.
One dish that always appeared on the big table in my grandmother’s kitchen next to kugle and homemade kielbasa was pirogi. I loved those potato pillows, a bit chewy and soft, filling and pleasant. I would pick them up by hand when I was younger, and smother them in onions and sour cream as I got older.

Now that I live in the Pacific Northwest and good pierogi seem few and far between, I decided to make a batch on Easter. Back in Connecticut, this is usually done by one of my Aunt Debbies (I have three). I used her recipe for the simple dough to cover the potato and cheese. Once I had the dough and filling ready, I invited a friend over to help me fill them and, of course, to try a few out. The result was a perfect activity and meal for a rainy Portland Sunday afternoon.

Potato and Cheese Pierogi
makes about 50 pierogi

For the dough:
2 pints sour cream
About 4.5 cups flour, maybe more, maybe less.

Put the sour cream in a bowl. Gradually add the flour, mixing with your hand until the mixture becomes a kneedable dough. Note: The flour must be added to the sour cream, this will not work the other way around.

For potato filling:
1 1/2 pound russet (baking) potatoes
6 ounces coarsely grated extra-sharp white Cheddar (2 1/4 cups)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Optional: Sauteed mushrooms and shallots or any other filling you find goes well with potato

Peel potatoes and cut into 1-inch pieces. Cook potatoes in a large saucepan of boiling salted water until tender, about 8 minutes. Drain potatoes, then transfer to a bowl along with cheese, salt, pepper and mash with a potato masher or a handheld electric mixer at low speed until smooth. When mashed potatoes are cool enough to handle, spoon out a rounded teaspoon and lightly roll into a ball between palms of your hands.

Divide the dough in half, reserving half under the bowl. Roll out the dough to about 1/4" thick and cut with a 2.5” cookie cutter or glass. This is where it is really nice to have a pierogi making buddy. While one of you cuts out the dough, the other can fold it around the potato balls, sealing it on all edges. It is important that the seal is complete or else water will leak in to the pierogi when you cook it. You can use a fork to press down on the seal if you are concerned about holes.






Once the pierogis have been assembled, you can cook them by dropping them a few at a time into boiling water. When they rise to the surface, they are ready. I prefer to finish mine by sautéing them in a pan of onions and butter. Serve topped with onions and a good dollop of sour cream.

Because this recipe makes about 50 pierogi, you may want to freeze a few. Simply put the fresh pirogis on a cookie sheet, stick them in the freezer until they are frozen solid and then separate into freezer bags. Just remove and boil as needed.