Kielbasa

Inspirations for today’s post: family culture and a recent dinner at Polish Villa. Kielbasa… a Polish sausage that I could not live without. Having grown up with homemade and Redlinski’s versions, there are not many places that can do it right. Hillshire Farms? Don’t waste my time. Not. Even. Close.

Years went by until Don and I were let in on the secret existence of an amazing meat haven, Quaker Creek Store in Pine Island, NY. You would drive right by it if you didn’t know any better; it’s basically a convenient store and deli that happens to make and sell its own meats. As far as we’re concerned, Bobby Matuwszewski is a sausage deity. His kielbasa rivals that which my grandmother made and sold; if she liked it, it HAS to be nothing short of incredible. My parents are known to stock up and take a cooler full back to Buffalo. Sure they have Mexican chorizo, Italian sausage, Cajun andouille, German bratwurst and maple breakfast sausages, and even my beloved “TV snacks” (cabanossi), but it’s all about the kielbasa. So in an effort to further expose our family and friends to unique culinary treasures, we try to make Quaker Creek’s delicacies part of our social gatherings. Whether it’s just grilled kielbasa with beer mustard or a ‘basy dog at a cookout, their meats are always a hit. And if it's good enough for Tyler Florence and Anthony Bourdain, well... enough said.

Quaker Creek Store 

The only other kielbasa that ever came close was not even Polish. A random posting in the newspaper community calendar led us over 30 minutes away to the Ukrainian Society camp in Ellenville. Made fresh and brought in from Brooklyn, their kielbasa was a bit thicker than its Polish cousin, but every bit as delicious and utterly impressive to family members.

I remember Nan and Pop and various other relatives gathering together to grind, stuff and smoke their own kielbasa. A recipe does exist in the family “files,” so maybe someday we’ll make our own. Hopefully it will measure up. Na zdrowie!

Monte Cristo Sandwich

What's so special about ham, turkey, and cheese on what is basically French toast? The fact that I remember my first one makes it a pretty special sandwich. While I don't recall specifically when I first had that Monte Cristo, I do know for a fact that it was on a family vacation to Walt Disney World. I can narrow the time frame to somewhere between 5th and 8th grade; I'm leaning towards 5th grade since that's the trip when I ran into Liz, a 4th grade classmate of mine, coming out of the restaurant on Main Street USA. A departure from the everyday cold cut concoction, the Monte Cristo struck me as a sandwich masterpiece encompassing the sweet and salty. My favorite parts were the powdered sugar sprinkled on top and the currant jelly served on the side. I didn't know what a currant was at the time, but my fascination got the best of me and I dove right in.

My latest Monte Cristo? The inspiration for this post, it was at the Glen Park Tavern in Williamsville. Again, out to dinner with the family. No powdered sugar. No currant jelly. Maple syrup on the side this time. Different, but not as good as my original.

Runs in the Family

So, now I know where it all comes from. The whole foodographic memory, that is. We were enjoying the fine Polish cuisine of the Polish Villa in honor of Nan. Pierogi, kielbasa, potato pancakes... the only thing missing was the kiszka (thank goodness!). As we were analyzing the smoked kielbasa, Mom pegged the maker of that particular sausage. She noticed the fine grind of the meat and very mild seasoning. Amazing.

Oatmeal and Cream of Wheat

I’ve paid homage to cold breakfast cereal, so here is my tribute to my favorite hot cereals. These friends and I go way back and while I’ve eaten my share of the instant versions, I’m waxing nostalgic about the old fashioned, long-cooking varieties. If you can read and measure you can make either one, but Nan always made them best. There was that special something she would do to make my oatmeal/C.O.W. the most delectable, comforting bowl of cereal ever. She always got the consistency right; I believe my mom used the term “wallpaper paste.” I do know there was more to it than just cereal and water. There was definitely brown sugar and a pinch of salt. Perhaps they were made with milk (probably whole milk) rather than water. Now that I think about it, I’m sure there was a good-sized chunk of butter involved as well. To this day, I still can’t get the proportions or taste quite right and I regret taking it for granted that they were such simple foods to prepare. Sure, things always taste better when someone else prepares them, but no bowl of oatmeal or Cream of Wheat ever came close to that which Nan made for me. I’m still on that quest. I only hope that someday mine will be as great as yours, Nan! 

Love you always...

Easter Candy

Easter is an amazing holiday for a kid, yet a dichotomous one for a Catholic kid. All that candy! You want to please your parents and CCD teacher, right? All that candy! But how can you focus on the Easter miracle, sitting on a hard church pew, when everyone else you know is already digging in to their sugar-filled baskets? All that candy! Well, you learn to cope for about an hour and then you dig in.

Some kids would wake up on Easter morning and go on a hunt for the candy left by the Easter Bunny himself. We, however, were in on the accumulation of our basket contents. Tradition took us to Antoinette’s Sweets, a chocolate dream that seemed to be in a far away land. Turns out, it was only about 7 miles from our house. Walking into Antoinette’s you were instantly hit with the aroma of chocolate wafting through the air. You had to walk past the ice cream parlor to get to the hall of chocolate. I’m sure it wasn’t that big of a room, but I swear it was the size of a football field at the time. Every size, shape and flavor of Easter candy existed on their shelves and tables. Hollow and solid. Milk, dark and orange? Bunnies, chicks, lambs, crosses and eggs. Oh, the joy of being able to pick out what we wanted. Upon returning home, we’d haul out the Easter baskets and fill them up just so. After the obligatory plastic grass went in, the candy set up followed. In went the chocolate of various sizes, shapes and flavors. Then add lots of jelly beans, Peeps (well-aged, of course), Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs, malted milk eggs and more jelly beans. Part of the joy of the Easter basket was finding those long lost jelly beans at the bottom after you thought all the candy was gone!

Antoinette's Sweets

Nowadays I still enjoy Easter candy. We don’t make the trek to Antoinette’s anymore; we usually hit the drug stores and supermarkets the day after for 50% off deals. There’s nothing like Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs. They’re still as good as I remember. I think I could survive just by eating those alone. Peeps are still “cured” in an opened package until they reach peak crunchiness. Pastel M&Ms and jelly beans cater to the Easter sweet tooth just as well as anything. It just goes to show you that you don’t have to be a kid to enjoy the Easter candy season.

Chocolate: The Later Years

"It has been shown as proof positive that carefully prepared chocolate is as healthful a food as it is pleasant; that it is nourishing and easily digested... that it is above all helpful to people who must do a great deal of mental work." - Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

I used to think I knew a lot about chocolate. Well, I DID… that is, until our trip to Belgium- a country with its priorities in check: chocolate, fries, waffles and beer. Everywhere you look there is a chocolatier, sometimes one on every corner. Life is good in Belgium.

Chocolate is not just something used to fill Easter baskets, it is an art form. Chocolate is not sold in stores, it is sold in boutiques. It is treated with the utmost respect and given the white glove treatment (literally). Belgian chocolate is heaven on earth. While there are many purveyors of fine chocolates, our devotion lies with Pierre Marcolini. He is a chocolate god. What he can do with chocolate will astound your senses and make you forget you’re paying around $100 per pound. (Makes that sponge candy a bargain at $18 a pound, doesn’t it?) He scours the world for the best cacao beans and creates the most unique flavor combinations. How about a lavender-infused truffle? Or one laced with Earl Grey tea? Each delicacy is topped with a gold-leaf label. These are definitely not chocolates you scarf down one after the other. I liken the Pierre experience to wine tasting; take it slow, little bits at a time, and savor every smooth morsel. 

Chocolate display at Neuhaus for Easter

If my memory serves me correctly, we actually dined on a box of Pierre Marcolini chocolates on Easter while visiting our friends in Brussels. That’s what I’m talking about!

When Pierre (or the funding for it) is not available, we’ll opt for Neuhaus. Our first encounter with Neuhaus chocolate was when our friends came back to the States for Easter and brought with them a GIANT chocolate egg filled with various truffles. That only solidified our need to go visit them in Belgium. Neuhaus is a more mainstream chocolatier with a handful of stores in the US; it is also about half the cost of Pierre Marcolini! If you figured it out, that’s still not cheap but it is really good chocolate. It’s fun working your way through the box, or ballotin, of assorted pralines. Not to be confused with the southern candy, Belgian pralines are chocolates packed with various fillings (buttercream, nuts, marzipan, liquor or even more chocolate). Neuhaus includes a visual guide to your chocolates so you see what you’re getting yourself into before you commit. It’s hard to find a bad praline, though, so even if you indulge blindly you’re sure to enjoy each and every one.

After our trip to Belgium, we find it a challenge to eat anything but Belgian chocolate. Call us chocolate snobs; we'll admit that we are. It's our guilty pleasure, though there's usually very little guilt involved when we seek its pleasure!

Contents of our carry-on!

How do you eat your candy?

My previous post got me thinking: How do you eat certain candy?

When it comes to M&Ms, I’m a color sorter. Browns go first and then the orange ones. Sometimes I’ll alternate throughout the remaining colors; other times I work my way through one color at a time. Usually, red is the last color I savor as a tribute to its hiatus from M&Mdom for about 10 years due to “red dye scare.” I save the best for last. Then what do you do once they’re in your mouth? Some people suck on them until the shell is dissolved, others crack the shell open and then melt the chocolate out of the shell, and I imagine a select few just chew them all at once. I can’t imagine the latter. Don thinks I’m a bit insane, as he cares not about color or chewing habits; he’s a straight out M&M consumer, not an artist.

What about foil-wrapped candy like Hershey’s Kisses, Miniatures and the like? Again, Don says it doesn’t matter what you do once the chocolate is out of the wrapper. True, but I suppose it might reveal a little about who you really are. So what does it mean that I tend to fold my wrappers rather than scrunch or ball them up?

Any other candy quirks? Let me know!