While it is a few short days until an annual cake-day where we celebrate the passing of yet another year of deadline, assignments, must-do, should-do, could have-done…at the age of 42 (soon to be), I would like to reminisce about the latest memory of vacating in Europe.
Vacation is not a vacation unless there are loads of pictures of clouds and FOOD. I will try my best to describe them all and just by looking at the pictures, my taste buds have taken a mental break too.
Much like how our Grandma Lam used to cook up a feast whenever we visited from out of town, I simply and thrilled at the welcome feast when we arrived in Kielce, Poland to visit Michał’s Mamuń (mother) and Babcia (maternal grandmother). The soup in the bowls is flaczki (tripe soup with magical trio – parsnip, celery root, and carrot, plus marjoram). Hands down, my favourite soup, even though since 2019, I have moved into a more vegetarian mode. Fresh fruits are never missing from Mamuń’s dining table, nor in her travel bag, nor when we stop by the market.
Who could forget the sweet endings of a welcome meal? First, one would be greeted by the kisses of Babcia in multiples of ten. Once you have been sufficiently clothed by grandmotherly love, this is where the sweetness continues. There is an apple cake and also another one that has a meringue top. There were three pieces because one of the cakes came from a family friend who knew we were coming to visit and offered a baked good as an added welcome. If you are not dripping with love and care by this point, you must have missed something.
During our first trip to Poland, I was all set to try my first authentic pierogies in Poland (yes, I know there are pierogies in other countries, and they look mighty close to our Chinese dumplings…but I digress…).
Much to my surprise, it was not something that we ate during that trip unless it was just a little piece or something. This time around, we stopped on the way to visit Vujek (Uncle) and we walked into a little shop, which really is the first floor of a two-story home, with an open kitchen the size of a medium-sized walk-in closet. A rugged yet motherly looking woman greeted us and I watched Babcia either bargain or greeted her. Babcia is a tough cookie and so I am never sure if she is speaking sternly or scolding. She doesn’t like me sticking my Google Translator at her all the time, and so I don’t always get the full context.
The woman at the kitchen window disappeared after the negotiation seemed to have completed successfully or just ended, she returned shortly with several bags of pierogies. We quickly packed them all up since they were frozen, I believe and hopped into the car. I was thrilled to have gotten “homemade” pierogies, to which, I was told Babcia says they could be better. Just before leaving, one must exercise all the new vocabulary available on a trip to a foreign country — I waved and said my “djzenkue” (thank you) and “doweznia” (see you soon) then hopped into our little rental car.
Now, I must agree with Babcia that these pierogies could have been better. The wrapper was too thick, but that is my Chinese roots and our preference for thin wrappers. However, it was great to be with family and we sat together feasting on hearty food and heartier laughter.