Kluski and Kapusta

This is a continuation of my discussion of our Polish Thanksgiving. I'm trying to get all my favorite dishes in before Thanksgiving, which is only 4 weeks away, so that all of you can add them to your feast if you so desire. I will try to post pictures later as we make them. My mother-in-law loves this dish. Love is probably an understatement in this case. She will single-handedly eat the entire dish if you don't physically keep her away from it. That being said, this is a staple at our holiday table. We only eat this once or twice a year because we do try to keep our arteries from being terribly clogged. My mother was aghast when I told her how it was made. I have noticed that she doesn't pass it by on the buffet table though.

Kluski is the Polish term for dumplings without a filling. It can also refer to any variety of noodle, such as the egg noodle that is often seen here instead. Kapusta is the Polish word for cabbage. In this popular dish, the kapusta has been pickled into sauerkraut. We usually eat this as part of a large meal but you could serve it as a main dish, perhaps with some crusty bread and kielbasa.

We opt for store-bought dried Italian potato gnocchi instead of the more commonly used egg noodle or other kind of dumpling. You can find them in with the dried pasta at the store. It is sometimes hard for us to find the gnocchi in our stores however. Usually, when we see it at the grocery store, no matter the time of year, we'll buy up 3 or 4 boxes just in case. I have made it using Polish potato dumpling mix but they tend to fall apart on me. The gnocchi absorb the other flavors perfectly and add just the right contrast to the sauerkraut, soft and yet slightly chewy at the same time.

Serves 8-10, as part of a large meal

12 oz bacon, chopped
32 oz shredded sauerkraut (1 large jar), well drained
1-2 lb potato gnocchi, cooked almost tender

1. Add the bacon to a large saucepan or pot. Brown until crisp.
2. DO NOT DRAIN THE GREASE.
3. Add the sauerkraut.
4. Add the gnocchi.
5. Stir gently until all ingredients are well coated.
6. Cover, reduce heat to low.
7. Simmer, stirring occasionally, 20-30 min or until the cabbage is lightly brown and the gnocchi have absorbed flavor.
8. Serve warm.

Ruskie Pierogi

With that crisp smell of Autumn in the air, I long for German food. Well, let's clarify that a little. Not exactly German, but Polish food. Close enough right? I mean, the countries do border each other and were at one time one kingdom. My mother-in-law is of Norwegian descent and my father-in-law is Polish. When my hubby and I first started dating I was quickly coerced, I mean gently shoved, into trying Polish cuisine. Well, it wasn't really a choice. It was either eat it or spend our first Thanksgiving together without food. Turns out, I love it despite my initial hesitation of all things sauerkraut. I could eat my weight in pierogi, bratwurst, or kaluski and kapusta. It gets a little confusing with all the Oktoberfest jargon though.

Our family celebrates this regional cuisine, along with the trusty turkey and southern cornbread dressing, in November during the US Thanksgiving holidays. The original Oktoberfest, however, was held October 12, 1810 in Munich to commemorate the marriage of Ludwig I of Bavaria and Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen. Traditionally, the festival always ended on the first Sunday in October, and began 16 days prior to that date. The royalty decided to hold their anniversary festivities at the end of September because the weather is usually nicer in Germany then. Most recently, though, the dates have been extended to include German Unity Day which is October 3, regardless of what day of the week that actually falls on.

Pierogi is the Polish term for stuffed dumplings. When someone says they had pierogi though, you never know exactly what they were eating because Polish people use this word indiscriminately to mean any kind of filling from fruit to meat. For those poor souls who don't know what a pierog looks like, they are very similar to oversized half-moon ravioli, Chinese pot stickers, or the tiny fried pies that my grandmother used to make. Unfortunately, we don't make them very often, usually once or twice a year because they are relatively time-consuming. I will post a sumptuous picture of these little jewels later.

This is my mother-in-law's version of the Ruskie Pierogi, literally translated as Russian Pierogi. Don't ask me why they call it that. Maybe for "ruski" which was the Polish word for the Ruthenian region of Bavaria, or today's Ukraine. Ruski Pierogi are made with onion, potatoes and cheese, traditionally farmer's cheese. We have southernized it and now use Velveeta Cheese. Also, partly for time conservation and partly from popular opinion, we use jumbo pasta shells instead of the potato pastry. I just can't express how much I love these. Crispy on the edges, gooey and cheesy on the inside, savory onion butter dripping all over, mmmmmm. It doesn't get much better than this. This recipe feeds a Thanksgiving crowd. You can scale as needed. I usually fill the shells the night before, chill them and then pour over the onion and butter and bake just before serving.

Serves 10-12

5 lb red skinned-potatoes, peeled and chunked
1 large block Velveeta cheese, cubed
1 lb jumbo pasta shells, cooked almost done
½ c. butter
1 jumbo onion, or 2 medium, finely chopped

1. Boil potatoes until fork tender.
2. Mash slightly and then while still hot add cheese and continue mashing and stirring until smooth.
3. Fill each pasta shell with the potato mixture.
4. As you go, place the shells open side up in a greased 13x9" baking dish, stacking is fine.
5. Preheat oven 350°.
6. Melt the butter in a medium saucepan, add the onion and cook until translucent.
7. Pour onion mixture evenly over shells.
8. Bake 25-30 min.