Pierogi Purgatory

With cold weather comes the desire to eat warm, comforting foods. This weekend, Anchorage finally got its first snowfall, and what better way to mark the occasion than by wrapping a carb around a carb! To celebrate, I selected the Eastern European answer to comfort - the pierogi.

I should note first that I had never really eaten a very good pierogi. The few pierogis that have crossed my path were sad limp things, reconstituted from grocery-brand frozen foods. The memory is vague, but the word "mushy" comes to mind.

Lacking a happy food memory, what would motivate me to make a pierogi? First, the knowledge that a friend of mine really likes pierogis, and second, curiosity over what the fuss is about.

I did some Internet searching for pierogi recipes and finally unearthed a basic, no frills recipe that looked like a reliable start.

FOR PIEROGI DOUGH:
- 2 cups flour
- 1/2 t salt
- 1 egg
- 1 T oil
- 1/2 cup hot water
- butter and onions for sauteeing
- filling of choice

The dough was simple enough to make, especially when left to the able hands of my Kitchenaid mixer, Thor. Mix dry ingredients first and then beat the egg and oil - add all at once. Finally, drizzle in the hot water. Thor did his business for 5-7 minutes, and voila! Pierogi dough, ready to rest for 30 minutes.

"Filling of choice" however was another matter. Not having much experience with pierogis, I decided to use what was described as "standard fare" - the potato and cheese filling. Suggested embellishments included bacon bits and parsley, the former I could not resist, and the latter I had in abundance as one of the last herbs saved from the summer garden.

I think the history of the potato is intertwined with the Western Hemisphere because the Chinese do not use a lot of potato. I love potatoes, but myself, do not work with them frequently. So I blithely read "five pounds of potatoes" and didn't blink once.

I should have.

"FILLING OF CHOICE"
- 5 pounds of red potatoes
- 1 large onion
- 8 oz grated cheddar cheese
- salt, pepper to taste
- suggested "enhancements": bacon bits, parsley

Five pounds of potatoes is A Whole Lot of Potatoes. It wasn't until I finished peeling them, boiling them, and mashing them that I realized I had created a Vat of Potatoes. Nothing to do but move on.

The Magic Bullet made short shrift of the bacon, turning it into bacon dust in seconds. I threw in some chives along with the parsley and admired the lovely green sprinkles. I grated some smoked cheddar and then promptly ran out, supplementing with pre-grated Costco Mexican Blend cheese. (Next time, if there is a next time, I may try an Irish cheddar.)

Mixing the conglomeration was no easy task. My frail Chinese forearms tensed against the resistance of five pounds of Western Hemisphere. As a break, I turned to rolling out the dough.

I recommend the use of a pasta machine to make nice flat even sheets that can be cut using a cookie-cutter, largely because I lack such a pasta machine. In its place, I rolled the dough out by hand with my cursed tapered European rolling pin (a purchase made in the early days when some cooking show urged this to be a good idea). The result - a slow process with some unevenness that sometimes approached the 1/8 of an inch commanded by the recipe.

I prepared the pierogis factory-style, the same method I use to mass-produce potstickers. Scooping out a little bit of filling onto each wrapper, smearing the edge of one semicircle with water, and then press. After the pierogis are sealed, I pressed the edges of one side with a fork, being too lazy to add this ornamentation onto the other side. (To be expected from someone whose family only decorated one side of the Christmas tree.)

Once sealed, boil the pierogis until they float up. Drain and allow to dry while sauteeing one minced onion in butter. Fry the pierogis in this mixture until browned and crisped to your liking. Although not told to do so by anyone, I used the More-Cheese-Can't-Hurt Principle and sprinkled some grated Mexican Blend over it all.



Pierogis can be refrigerated for a few days or frozen for a few months. One dough recipe yields roughly 40 pierogis. One "Filling of Choice" recipe yields who knows how may pierogis. I'll tell you this - it's more than 120 pierogis which is where I stopped last night at midnight using my third batch of dough.

And here is where the trickiness becomes apparent. Handmade pierogis are handmade. I started on Sunday night and after three nights of diligent pierogi-making, I am still not done. After all, I am only human - I have only have two hands, ten fingers!

And five pounds of potatoes.

And that is how I found myself in Pierogi Purgatory.

Tonight will be Pierogi Night Four. One more batch of dough is in the works and if it fails to absorb the rest of the filling, well, it will be time to get out the spoon and just do the deed myself.

After all, a tummy's got to do what a tummy's got to do.