SMACZNEGO

This is a post I have been intending to write for the longest time, so this is going to be a lengthy one. Prepare yourself. One of the distinctive experiences of world travel is getting to try all kinds of foods that are new to you but traditional in the way that they represent a place. Yes, I've had pierogis, bigos, obwarszanki, pickled herring in cream and a LOT of kielbasa, but some of my most memorable food moments are not always Polish in origin. Here are some highlights:

"Not What the Pilgrims Had In Mind"

I'll start with Thanksgiving since that was a big event, and in fact it was the first major American holiday that I have spent outside my country. Some of my American friends and I talked about trying to recreate a traditional Thanksgiving meal here at Piast, but that never came to fruition with our midterm exams taking up most of our free time and brain cells. Besides, I haven't really noticed that Poles eat turkey at all. Besides, what kind of student-made feast could top 2006's Powerhouse Turkey Day? I did my own part of celebrating by listening to Sarah Vowell read a story on a "This American Life" episode about Thanksgiving with her family, and thanks to the wonders of the internet I was able to talk with my own family, Peter finally included.

Coincidentally, with our exams finished as of last Thursday (Thanksgiving Day), Isabelle had planned on making a giant pot of miso soup with our Japanese classmates. It was meant to be a celebratory dinner, and it was marvelous. Miso, tofu, shiitake mushrooms, potatoes, onions, some kind of Japanese boullion, and seaweed. Not only did we have miso soup carefully supervised by four Japanese students, Isa also created a rice and tomato dish with all of her Italian-French culinary experience. Wait - there's more! For desert, we had waffles topped with jam. Those were a little more off-the-cuff since none of us had ever made the batter from scratch before, and we had to keep approximating the conversion from the American recipe I got from the internet into the metric equivalent. Nonetheless, I think I will always remember how at one point all of us were standing in a circle in the 6th floor kitchen, passing a bowl every minute or so from one person to the next to beat the egg whites for the waffle batter.

The evening's experience made me consider what this holiday is supposed to represent. Yes, there were all of those messy consequences to deal with once the white men had landed in America, such as, ahem, smallpox, but Thanksgiving was centered around togetherness and food. TO get to Poland, I had to travel across the ocean and disembark in a country where I knew neither the land or the people. Looking around the bed that served as our dinner table at all the people who helped prepare our meal, I took a moment to give silent thanks for the opportunity to be here and to spend that American "święta" (holiday) with some of the people closest to me.

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"Thank you Bloedow's"

It was a foggy, rainy, and chilly day in Krakow. It wasn't at all the beautiful weather that I had gotten used when I first arrived in the city. I had also been put in a bad mood after a full day of classes, and then instead of going home where I really wanted to be, I offered to accompany Isabelle on one of her crazy runs to Carrefour. It was still going to be a long afternoon...

To get from one end of the Stare Miasto to the other, Isa and I walked through the Planty (parks) that ring the old town. But then to get to the shopping center and Carrefour, you have to go through a small underpass beneath a bust street. The shopping center is right next to Krakow's train station, so this underpass sees a lot of pedestrian traffic in a day. Of course, there are small shops and stall that line each side to take advantage of all this high visibility.

It was in this underpass, in the right side, just before the exit into the shopping center plaza, that I had my first and my best pączek. I had been dying to try a pączek since it was one of the few Polish things and words (only known to me by its plural "pączki") that I knew before coming. It is a fried round of dough, filled with a special rosehip jam, and covered in a delicate glaze. Basically it's a doughnut. I bought one of these little balls of fried goodness for 1.10 zloty, and from the first bite it was as if I had only a mouth full of sunshine. The glaze was a perfect layer of sweet and just a tad crispy, the interior was fluffy and golden, and that rosehip jam is still a foreign delicacy to me. What struck me the most about this doughnut was that the taste took me back to a place thousands of miles away. It took me to a place where I knew the rest of the day was going to be okay. The taste and the texture and the feeling all took me back to my favorite corner bakery in Winona, MN, a staple of my childhood, Bloedow's.

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"Lecsó"

Tamás Fözö, my Hungarian, is a cook. Literally. His name, "Fözö" means "cook" in Hungarian. However, irony of ironies, he does anything but. I mean, he basically eats for survival and goes through pounds of instant cappuccino mix. That's my Tomi. But one day, as a super special treat (and in honor of Annie's visit) Tom Cook made the traditional Hungarian dish "lecsó". It was a circus in the kitchen for a while, but the finished product was great. Here is the recipe in Tom's own words as I made him write them down:

Lescó for 4 Persons

1. onion cut, 1-2

2. 1 kg paprika (peppers, in English)

3. 1 kg pomidory (tomatoes)

4. 2-5 eggs

5. 1 very small spoon of salt & sugar

6. some meat, maybe kielbasa

Everything has to be sliced!

Paprika has to collapse! WAIT!

We don't need water because the paprika has her own.

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Finally, I include this bit just be cause it's a little fun. Cookies. I have made three different cookie recipes since I have been here: Peanut Butter Cookies with Annie and Tomi, Thumbprint Cookies with Sabine and Amelie, and last night's Banana Bread-esque Vegan Cookies. I was just in one of those moods to bake. However, I had to get a little creative with my ingredients since I had no eggs and just a little butter. Not to mention that we don't have any measuring cups or spoons. But come on, I am probably one of the few students in this whole dorm that has both baking soda AND baking powder. Here are are the final results. Flour on the bottom, sugar on the top, and egg-less banana goodness in between. I am quite proud of myself.

Quick Links

My latest Daily News column was published in yesterday's paper. If you're interested, you can check it out here. This is the one that includes my thoughts on the recent Polish elections and Eastern/Central Europe's transition to democracy. Kind of neat that I got holiday billing in the WDN.

Also, my very first article from Poland –which includes the refrigerator anecdote– can also be found here. (And for those of you who have been following this story with keen interest will be happy to learn that today Isa and I became the proud owners of a very large, very old, and super inconvenient lodówka. It is sitting on our balcony, and now all we have to do is rig up a system where we can pass the power cord through the door or window back into our room. At least our food will be protected from projectile pigeon poop - hurrah!)

Dreaming of a White November

Krakow is one giant snowball. I know it is all fun and beauty now, but check back in a month or so and I'll let you know if I am still in love with this city. (Although, I think all signs look favorable...) Here are some more thoughts on how I am adjusting to the skies being either white with snow and clouds during the day or pitch black thanks to the 3 pm sunset.

It has been lightly snowing everyday for about the last week or more, but near to a foot of snow fell in about 12 hours yesterday. It was the light, fluffy stuff good for making snow angels, but that didn't stop a band of boys from the rival dorm across the street to come over and pelt Piast with a barrage of fluffy snowballs. Retaliation is in the planning stages, but those are the intimidatingly well-built students from the environmental engineering university. I don't think that a bunch of foreigners interested in poli sci and philology have much of a chance. "Hey guys, wait! - that is my good pocket protector! I'm staying out of this. Have I mentioned that I am part Swiss?"


For Luke:
Tom was out with his father, who was visiting Poland, but called me and told me to meet him in the Rynek so we could appreciate the Market Square dressed in its new winter glory. I had a peaceful walk to the tram stop. It was about 10 pm, so there weren't too many people at the stop. The air was all peaceful. However the entire time I had to keep brushing off the snow that stuck to my wool coat and stomping the snow off my boots. Eventually, with the impending arrival of the number 4, the stop attracted a few more people. The tram pulled up, everyone brushed themselves off one more time, and just before stepping into the train the group of guys in front of me took a moment to hit their shoes against the edge of the vehicle to break loose some stubborn snow. I smiled to myself at this because it reminded me of every winter day of my childhood when my father would say to Peter and I, "Click off your shoes to get into the car." I always treated that request as one of my dad's cleanliness-obsessed idiosyncrasies, and I would just roll my eyes when I heard it for the 1000th time. Those Polish guys last night and their snow-removing practicality was a reassuring sight. I felt at home.


For anyone else who is interested:
I can never stop from laughing at the people who use umbrellas for the snow. It's like, "Nice try, people, but snow has a tendency to swirl around and avoid that feeble nylon coverage. And you actually look kind of ridiculous."

I think this will be the fifth year in a row where I am living though in fierce winter weather without having to responsible for shoveling - yesssss. One point for me!

What's one stereotype about how the Slavs get through these subzero months? Of course with a little drink. I guess we officially welcomed in the start of the Polish winter when, while at a friend's dorm in Zaczek, her Russian neighbors came by and hospitably offered us some of their homemade honey lemon vodka. (I didn't think it was so bad, but one of my friends failed to show up at class the following morning as a result.) Having a glass of Russian/Polish moonshine in Krakow? Check. List of lifelong goals now only half as long.

Save the Red Shoes!

I've got a small bit of bad news. I don't think my red Danskos are going to make it through the winter. Over the last few days, with this crappy fall rain, I have been finding myself consistently unable to walk from the tram stop to my school without ending up with two puddles of water instead of feet. I thought Danskos were supposed to be indestructible!

Please feel free to offer any suggestions (aside from the obvious "Duh, buy some new shoes") here.

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Snow. Snow is better than rain for the simple fact that is is less wet. (Maybe I can live with my imperfect red shoes a little bit longer.)



I mention this because today was the first day where we had snow in Kraków that actually stuck to the ground. However, the morning broke with a lot of sunshine. I stepped out into our refrigerator –in reality, a corner of our balcony– for some orange juice for my breakfast, and it was a gorgeous day! I decided in that moment that I would go down for a jog in a nearby park.

Every experience I have had jogging in this part of town has been wonderful. It's like a sight-seeing tour on warp speed. I have stumbled upon a beautiful garden within a park or just spun around the same path a few time to soak in the intense yellow of the trees in their fall brilliance. I can orientate myself a bit better AND I have to do something to counteract all the spoonfuls of Nutella that I eat directly out of the jar...

So this morning, I put on my sweatpants and my super space-age fabric hoodie with thumbholes cut out of the sleeves, and I was ready to go. I got outside and thought, "this isn't so bad." I got as far as the stoplight on my corner when it started to flurry. Still, I thought, "this isn't so bad." The weather still felt warm-ish, and the sun was still shining. There was a little competition for little kids and their toy airplanes on the big green. I made it down the first straightaway of the 3 or 4 K ring around the park, with the Kopiec Kosciuszko at my back, and I no sooner turned the corner than the wind decided to blow completely parallel to the ground and into my face. The snow flurries were now small collections of ice balls. I finally thought, "this is pretty bad. I must be crazy." Still, there was something thrilling about facing those elements and having giant snowflakes land on my tongue as if I were a child trying to excitedly catch them there.

But when all was said and done, I made it back home almost completely dry. I showered, fixed myself a big bowl of tomato soup, and of course now I'm back to eating more Nutella straight out of the jar.

Pics and such

Some scenes from the b-day holiday to London:




















Some are self-explanatory.














The Rosetta Stone in the British Museum: thousands of years of orthographic history at my fingertips!














To prove that Charles Dickens was human, after all.























Tom's sister, Audrey. Thanks for all the food!











After a staying up all night to catch an early bird flight back to Krakow. Somehow, physical exhaustion makes it easier to deal with the announcement of the pilot when he comes on to say that the plane is having engine trouble...

Happy 23 to Me!

Who knew that when I began this blog as a way to record the things I experience in Poland that I would be entering a post about spending my birthday in London? (You don't have to answer; that was a rhetorical question.)

To begin at the beginning, I have a crazy Hungarian friend. The word "crazy" needs to be enphasized many times, but Tamas -as is his name- is turning into one of my dearest friends in Poland. One thing I can always count on Tomi for is for giving into the impulses of Ryan Air. It was maybe three weeks ago that Tomi had the idea to go to London this weekend. Of course I said I would go with him. (Some of you reading this might be able to understand my real motivation.) The day before our departure, the two of us booked another flight to Madrid in February... The point is, I am here in England with him, meeting his sister and staying with his friends.

On the one hand, our weekend has been filled with the traditional "must-sees" of London's top sights. On the other hand, In conversations with all of Tomi's friends, it has been a really interesting look at contemporary immigrant life. I am learning a little bit of Hungarian as an added bonus. :)

As soon as I get back to Krakow I will upload some pictures of the highlights of this mini vacation. The list to include: a nighttime view from the London Eye, uncharacteristically gorgeous November weather, Tom being crazy, AND (my all-time favorite) Charles Dickens' commode.