1/9/2019 2 Comments Pierogi with Bobki**This is a post I’ve been sitting on for a bit. One I’ve wanted to get Just Right before hitting publish. But ya know what? Today is 31 years since she went home. So here it goes...
My Bobki died before I turned three. She loved to cook. She loved to bake. And She loved being Catholic. My ‘memories’ of her are photographs and stories as told by my mom and dad. She is someone I think (often) of and sigh with longing. She is someone I hope to have the joy of meeting someday. Maybe you have someone like this in your family? Someone who you long to have known. Someone whose presence is so Big in your family despite the fact that they are no longer physically here. My dad Loved (and still loves) his mother. Her name was Eleanor. I bear her name as my middle name and I remember one of my four brothers making fun of me one day… calling me "Kathryn Smell-some-more" over and over in a sing song-y voice within earshot of my dad. The look of fierce devotion and fierce grief in his face when he corrected that brother is an expression I will always Always Remember. You don’t make fun of his Momma. Since becoming a mom, trying to incorporate Liturgical celebrations into our family life has become very important to me, more specifically, incorporating traditions that marry our heritage as a family with our Catholic Faith. St. Faustina’s feast day crept up on me last year. I think I saw her listed as the Saint of the Day in Bishop Robert Barron’s daily gospel reflection email and thought, “Oh Snap. This is Big. What are we going to do?” Besides JPII, I’d argue that St.Faustina is The Most Well Known Polish Saint (feel free to disagree with me/turn me on to some other Holy Poles!) . With Bobki as such a huge influence on my father and hence, on me, I knew I wanted to make a Big Deal out of the feast to honor her as well. So I made Pierogi. From Scratch. Had I ever done it before? Nope. I googled a recipe and whispered a prayer asking Bobki to be with me as I made these Pierogi (something she was known for… that and her strawberry rhubarb pie). While I mixed and rolled the dough, cut the small circles, crimped the edges of each little dumpling… I felt Bobki with me. I saw her smiling. I heard her telling me that I was doing a good job and that these were turning out Just Right. And I cried. I cried because she’s gone. I cried because she is someone I ache to have known. I mourn the fact that I have no memories of our time together in my early childhood. And I cried because she *is* with me. As I try out recipes she was a legendary master of. When I prep and cook with my dad at Thanksgiving, making all the sides just as she did. As I listen to Polish Christmas Carols each December. She is There. I see her in myself. She showed her love and affection for her family through the care she put into creating food. She was indifferent to ‘let’s just stay home’ about the beach. And she loved her Blessed Mother and the Eucharist. Bobki, please pray for us! And may her soul and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace, Amen. (I love you, daddy!)
2 Comments
Lisa
1/9/2019 07:49:04 pm
They look good. We do more potatoes than cheese in ours...but they make me hungry just looking at yours. I bet your Bobki probably enjoyed a good halluski and pig-in-the-blanket (hallumpki) too. ❤️
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Katie
1/10/2019 05:58:34 am
I actually used sweet potato, butter, and sage because that's what I had in the house (that's why the filling is so orange). I want to try again with some russets, cheddar and onion :-)
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