Polish food

Poppy seed understands

/ Meg / 16 Comments

In the small Pennsylvania town where my grandparents grew up is a bakery — one wonderfully frozen in time. When we would venture north to visit my great-grandmother, cousins and great-aunts, we couldn’t pass by without dashing in to admire their treats.

And fill our mouths, of course.

Easter was the best. We often left Maryland for spring break, visiting the Poconos Mountains and swinging back through Wilkes-Barre and Nanticoke on our way home. My great-grandmother lived in the bottom apartment of a duplex, and I can close my eyes and see her waving to us from her shaded side porch.

When we drove through town seeking Sanitary Bakery, my sister and I would stare agog at all the colorful cookies, cakes and chocolates. If we were lucky, a kind baker behind the counter would offer us samples — and my parents would nod as we shoved candy into our delighted mouths. I grew up on nut roll and poppy seed bread, a Polish treat.

I’ve always been an adventurous eater who loves everything others seem to find quirky — but I fit in well with my mom’s parents, who embrace their Polish roots through classic foods like cabbage rolls and kielbasa. Kate and I spent most afternoons at my grandparents’ home after school, and the aroma of ham and cabbage simmering away is intricately woven through many of my memories.


Christmas 93

Katie and me, Christmas 1993


Isn’t it funny how that happens? Our sense of smell is so powerful that, with one whiff, we’re transported back to a county fair, cafeteria, old library. My mom, sister and I actually returned to our elementary school for a craft fair in October. Though I hadn’t walked through those doors in nearly 20 years, we took one step inside and laughed. It was different . . . but it wasn’t.

“It smells the same,” I said, shocked and ecstatic and hit with a wave of nostalgia so powerful, I almost couldn’t breathe.

Food is like that, too. When Gram called me yesterday to say she had some poppy seed bread to share, freshly arrived from Pennsylvania, my little pregnant self couldn’t get over there fast enough. I mean, I may or may not have run a red light. (Okay, I totally didn’t. But I thought about it.) Gram and Grandpa rarely come home without local treats for us from their trips, but this was an unexpected shipment. A true delight.

This morning I sat by my Christmas tree and sliced into the bread that tastes like tradition and growing up rolled into a dense, delicious pastry. I thought about those long-ago drives to Nanticoke; the family reunions and trips with my grandparents, laughing over pie and coffee late into the night at a diner in front of our hotel. Visiting the family cemetery, where many loved ones now rest. Beautiful old churches with stained glass fronts. Curving mountain roads and sleepy storefronts. Running into cousins on the street, our Maryland license plates like sirens in the quiet town.

I miss those days, those trips. Being bundled in a backseat without a worry.

But poppy seed roll? It will always be there for me.

Poppy seed understands.


Beginner’s cooking with Meg: Cottage cheese noodles

/ Meg / 1 Comment

In the tradition of the mighty “pot luck,” we’re always looking for something quick, easy and delicious to take with us to parties. My mom’s been preparing a recipe courtesy of my grandmother for quite some time: Polish cottage cheese noodles! They’re easy, quick and hearty — and definitely a comfort food.

So, of course, we need to gather together our ingredients. I wandered into the kitchen on Sunday to see what my mother was up to before we left for my grandmother and cousin’s birthday party. Another successful venture for one of our favorite Polish dishes! All we need is bow-tie pasta, butter, one package of cottage cheese, pepper and minced onion.

So we boil up our pasta, which took about ten minutes or so. I think Mom actually used two boxes of noodles — making sure we had enough for the party and for home, if there are leftovers (there are always leftovers).

 

Ah, the lovely aroma of freshly cooked pasta!

After the pasta is cooked and drained, I put it all back in the pot in preparation of adding our final few ingredients. I popped three heaping spoonfuls of low-fat margarine, about three tablespoons of minced onion (I’m just eyeballing here), an entire package of cottage cheese (you can’t really have too much cheese), then sprinkled the entire casserole, at Mom’s suggestion, with black pepper. Voila!

Then the only tricky part is figuring out how to eat all of the delicious party food . . . and making sure the dish is still hot when you reach your destination. Check and check!