I'm a Pole.

I'm a Pole. 

No lie, my mom has that exact same vest in her closet...for some reason...?

Polish, that is. When my dad's family docked in the ol' U.S. of A, they decided to shorten my maiden name from Swantewski (or something like that) to Swantek (good choice). My grandparents' last name is Faliszek and my grandma's maiden name is Wilczewski. 

When I was really young I can recall watching very attentively as my grandpa taught me how to Polka dance in his basement in Cleveland, Ohio. Fully decked out in his black patent leather shoes and knee-high white socks, he would lead me and spin me around the cold concrete basement floor while tunes such as "Too Fat Polka" blared in the background. Yes, "Too Fat Polka." To hell with being politically correct. Quite catchy though. 

 

I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat
She's too fat
She's too fat for me

Can she prance up a hill?
No, no, no, no, no
Can she dance a quadrille?
No, no, no, no, no
Does she fit in your coupe?
By herself she's a group
Could she possibly
Sit upon your knee?
No, no, no

She's so charming
And she's so winning
But it's alarming
When she goes in swimming

She's a twosome,
She's a foursome
If she'd lose some
I would like her more some

I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
I don't want her you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat
Much too fat
She's too fat for me
Hey!

Sad, that song is still as funny to me today as it was when I was 6 or 7 years old.

Aside from having a really Polish last name and dancing around in circles to accordion music, the only other super Polish things I lo-lo-lo-loooovvveee are pierogi and kielbasa! Sure, you can get both in your local grocery store but Mrs. T just doesn't cut it for me. When we visit my grandma in Cleveland she always has her freezer stocked with these little pockets of goodness. In Cleveland, you can buy pierogi from a few of the local churches. I've only been once, but I can recall walking in to the sound of old ladies donning babuskas and singing as they worked happily and diligently in a doughy assembly line.We tend to stick to cheese, potato and on the rare occasion, prune. My grandma fries them in a pan with sauteed onions until they are lightly brown on both sides.


I keep trying to talk myself into making them from scratch at home, but the idea of making 50 of these little suckers is a little daunting...and fatty. Just yesterday I ran across a fairly easy recipe and some mouth watering pictures. So, if my wonderful friends agree to come over and help us eat all 50 of the suckers....I'll get busy in the kitchen. Any takers?