12.30.2007

RECIPE #12: Grandma's Pierogi

I hope you're having as lovely a holiday season as I am. People went crazy with Xmas gifts this year, the theme being my newfound enjoyment of following recipes. In addition to assorted clothing items, gift cards and whatnot, my haul included a blender, a food processor, a professional chef's knife, an organic cookbook, fancy oven mitts, a set of cute Coca-Cola glasses, two pitchers, two different spice assortments and one of those rolling island/shelf/cart jobbers. Although I've fulfilled my New Year's resolution - constructing one recipe a month for the entire year - I certainly don't intend to stop. There's not going to be a monthly regimen and report, but believe me, I've caught the cooking bug for good. I may even tell you about it from time to time.

The recipe that inspired the whole endeavor was saved for last. My 100% Polish family cherishes a number of traditional dishes, many of which we only enjoy at the holidays. One of the best-loved staples is pierogi, which contrary to popular Americanization is pronounced in our houses as "pya-DOG-gee," not "pa-RO-gee." Grandma and Grandpa used to work on these little dumplings together every year, filling them with an ever-expanding assortment of treats. However, the pierogi production tapered off after my grandfather passed away in 1996 and my grandmother found it more physically difficult to cook, not to mention carry on a tradition she had maintained with her love of more than half a century. We buy them at a local Polish shop, but they're dinky little things and don't taste the same.

Although we've had homemade pierogi a few times since due to the assistance of my mother or uncle, no one really knew the recipe except Grandma. She's still kicking ass, but she's in her 80s. I decided I wanted to learn how to make them, and I'd write down the steps so that we could preserve a crucial dish before it was lost forever. So, earlier this month, I sat down with Grandma, mom and dad to revive the old tradition. We would have homemade pierogi for Xmas by hook or by crook.

No, that's not cocaine. It's flour, the crucial component of your first step, the dough. I should note that we had the use of Grandma's trusty old Cuisinart for the duration of this recipe, which made it much easier than if we'd done everything with spoons and knives. In fact, the food processor was absolutely essential to Grandma's recollection of pierogi preparation, since she had been using it for a number of years before she stopped making them.

Anyway, we put 2 and 1/2 cups of unsifted flour, 2 egg yolks (egg separators are so cool!), 8 oz. of sour cream and 1/2 teaspoon of salt into the Cuisinart, mixing with the large metal blade rather than the small plastic attachment the manufacturers intended for dough. SoulReaper's family doesn't fuck around with wimpy food processor accessories. There was no speed setting, but Grandma says you'd use "high" on any other machine. We kept mixing until the ingredients began to clump together, then removed the dough, rolled it into a ball, put it in a sealable plastic bag and put it in the fridge. (You should leave it in for at least 5 or 10 minutes, or for as long as you'd like after that.) The process was repeated twice, once for each of the three batches we made.

Our first filling was potato, an identical mixture to the mashed potatoes Grandma used to make. We started by peeling and boiling five large baking potatoes, removing them from the water when soft. Next, we cubed the tubers, not worrying if they crumbled since they were subsequently moved to a bowl and mashed by hand with a fork. At some point during the '80s, Grandma started adding cheese, just enough for a little color and zing but not enough to overpower the natural spud flavor. Thus, we tore up two slices of American cheese and sprinkled them over the mashed potatoes while they were still warm, mixing until all the cheese was melted and blended. After adding 1/4 teaspoon of salt, 1/4 teaspoon of black pepper (Mom and Dad claim Watkins' is the strongest-flavored brand) and 1 tablespoon of milk, the potatoes got a final blend and were ready to go.

Filling number two was fresh cabbage. As my dad would be quick to tell you, this is different from sauerkraut (kapusta for my Poles) in that you're not brining the cabbage, so it doesn't bite your tongue the same way. Dad handled the task of shredding an entire medium cabbage and chopping one medium white onion while mom and I worked on other things. (Grandma supervised, answering questions and enjoying the process as it unfolded. She was beaming like a kid.) In a large pan with a cover, we melted one stick of unsalted butter and sauteed the onion until it was translucent. After this, all of the cabbage plus 1 teaspoon of salt, 1/2 teaspoon of black pepper, 3 tablespoons of water and another whole stick of butter went into the pan. This was covered and cooked until it was thoroughly soft, with the occasional stir to distribute moisture.

The third and final filling was the easiest to put together. Cheese pierogi have been favorite of mine since I was a little kid, and remain popular with the children in our family today. I was amazed to find out that it's composed of only three ingredients. The first is 2 cups of cottage cheese. Grandma thought some moisture might be good, so we used one cup of dry curd and one cup of regular, but since the final texture was more liquidy than we'd have preferred, we determined it's better to just use two cups of the dry curd. So, the cottage cheese went into the Cuisinart, along with two eggs and 2 tablespoons of sugar, and we mixed it until it was a smooth, creamy paste. That's all there is to cheese pierogi filling. Simple, eh?

Now that the fillings were ready, we made the dumplings. I took out half of a dough ball, sprinkled out some flour and rolled the bastard as thinly as I could. Turned out we used a tad too much flour in the dough (the measurement was originally 3 cups), so it was mighty tough to roll. This made the pierogi dough a little thicker than usual, about 1/8 inch, although once cooked the dough tasted fine. For each individual dumpling, I used the mouth of a cup roughly four inches in diameter to cut out circles, returning the dough scraps to the bag and the fridge before rolling them out again.

In each of the little circles, I spooned a dollop of filling. It took some trial and error to determine the proper amount of potato, cabbage or cheese to use in each, but I got it down quickly. Then, careful not to let the filling spill out, I folded them in half and crimped the edges shut with a fork so that they both held together and made a cute ridged design along the edge. For the ones that weren't sticking, especially once I was re-using dough scraps that had been rolled several times, I applied a tiny bit of water to the edges with a pastry brush. Once filled and shut, the pierogi were dropped gently into a pot of boiling water and cooked until they floated to the top. We did several at once, making sure not to overcrowd the pot or mix up the batches. When they were ready, we moved them to a pan filled with melted butter. You can brown them if you like, but we just like to coat each side of the pierogi in butter before chowing down.

After repeating the process until all the dough was gone, we ended up with between 16 and 20 of each type of pierogi. That may not seem like a lot, but I remind you, we make big pierogi. This was just enough for Mom, Dad, Grandma, myself and Sassy Frass to have a taste before storing the rest for last night's "Xmas Part 3" dinner, when my cousin's family came up from Indianapolis to celebrate with us. After an overnight with the lady's family and three nights with mine, it's safe to say I'm way past done with Yuletide cheer, but I'm glad we still have a few pierogi left over for a little post-holiday snacking.

Hey, here's an interview with comedian Carlos Mencia that I conducted on Halloween. He didn't use his played-out catchphrase, and I didn't accuse him of stealing jokes from Joe Rogan. I think we were both thankful. Have a safe and happy NYE... I'll see you in January with my best of '07 lists in effect.

3 Comments:

Blogger SoulReaper said...

Rebel rouser – Carlos Mencia's comedy pulls no punches

Carlos Mencia isn't just one of America's biggest Latino comedians. He’s one of America's biggest comedians, period.

His Comedy Central series, "Mind of Mencia," recently ended its third season. Once perceived as the heir presumptive to Dave Chappelle's "Chappelle’s Show," Mencia’s racially-charged mix of stand-up rants and sketches remains one of the cable network's most popular shows, perhaps in spite of Mencia's controversial, heated approach. The fourth season of "Mind" begins in the spring. In the meantime, fans can catch Mencia in a supporting role in "The Heartbreak Kid" or on his stand-up tour.

Carlos Mencia recently called to talk about the art of comedy, his role in Latino pop culture, why people take him the wrong way and what’s wrong with Britney Spears. An edited transcript of that conversation follows.

Q: Hey Carlos, happy Halloween!

A: Thanks, man. It's not the holiday that I wish it was, but, you know. Even Halloween has become politically correct, where you can't scare kids anymore. Last year I had a fake gun and every once in a while when kids would knock on my front door, I would pull out the fake gun and run toward the door and open it and say something scary. Their parents were like, "You're scaring my children!" It's Halloween! That's what I'm supposed to do! They were like, "No, you give them candy!" I'm like, "Man, this holiday sucks!"

Q: Do you have any plans for Halloween? Are you out on the road now?

A: No, I'm actually going trick-or-treating with the family.

Q: Do you get to spend holidays at home? You're a busy guy.

A: I don't have a lot of holidays anymore. Believe it or not, sometimes I have to scrounge for holidays. "Hey, we're gonna celebrate Columbus Day!" Because all the other ones I'm working or busy or something happens, I take it where I can.

Q: I'm curious whether you prefer doing stand-up or sketch comedy.

A: They bring different levels of pleasure for me because obviously I don't suck at them, and it's kind of fun to be able to exercise part of my brain, a different muscle in my creativity. Doing movies is another muscle that I get to flex, that's been unbelievable. But there's nothing as honest and as simple and as pure as stand-up. I don't know that I'll ever stop doing it. It's in my blood. I love it.

Q: It seems like when a lot of comedians become famous and get into movies, they stop doing stand-up, like that was the training ground. They want to get into movies, and that's it for them.

A: Yeah, that's not me, man. Even if I'm doing movies, I'll always do stand-up, and even if I get to the point where my movie career is so big that I can't tour, I'll still be doing stand-up at comedy clubs and stuff. The adrenaline rush of getting a huge laugh the day of or the day after something goes down and you're the first comedian to talk about it, that's just amazing. I love tackling issues that others are afraid to in a politically incorrect way, so I get that feeling a lot, and that's really fun.

Q: What makes you laugh?

A: Everything I talk about made me laugh before I talked about it. Something where I went, "That's retarded," or "That's stupid," but it was accompanied by a laugh. I'm pretty easy to make laugh. I'm not very discerning when it comes to laughter. I can watch amateurs perform and be okay with it. The only people that I can't laugh at are comedians that think they're funnier than they are.

If some guy says to me, "Hey, Carlos, I don't want you to see me, I'm an amateur," I'm like, "Don't even worry about it, dude, I get it." I'll know where you're at in your career and how long you've been doing comedy based on what your act is all about and what kind of jokes you're doing. All of us have the same trajectory, pretty much. But when guys are like, "Aw, you got to watch me, dude, I'm amazing," and then they suck, and you've got to be like "Dude, you fucking suck," those are the ones I can't laugh at.

Q: Would you say your humor is rooted in... I don't know if I'd say anger, but maybe frustration?

A: Oh yeah, definitely a large amount of it is frustration with the double standard or hypocrisy of something. People know exactly what they're doing and saying, yet they just want to be assholes. That annoys me, or our inability to see things for how simple they are. At first, it gets me angry, then it makes me laugh, then I realize the level of frustration that occurred with it. There's a process that goes through the writing of a lot of this stuff.

As an example, yeah, it's frustrating that Britney Spears doesn't know how dumb she is. She's rich, and rich can overcompensate for dumb. All she had to do was hire a nanny. No, hire an au pair, hire someone who was not even a nanny, hire an au pair so that people go, "Oh my god, she's an au pair, she speaks three different languages." Nobody's going to say you're a bad mom. That's it! That's all you had to do not to lose your kids. How fucking dumb do you have to be not to know that, and why don't you know you're that dumb? Isn't there anybody in your peer group who can tell you, "Hey, dumbass, pay for this shit"?

So, the frustration comes from that moment, and then I go, "Hey, that's kind of funny, actually, it's pretty simple and she screwed it up." Then it takes on the form of a joke, and it's written and performed and that's how it comes out. But a lot of it is rooted in my frustration.

Q: Do you feel that people misinterpret your sense of humor?

A: Of course, all the time, but that's because they're stupid or they want to be offended. Think about it. When you go see a movie and Jackie Chan beats the living shit out of ten people, nobody goes, "Man, Jackie Chan's mean, he's just kicking people's asses." People understand that it's just a movie, they get that he didn't kill anybody.

With stand-up comedy, for some reason, it's different. People actually take some of this stuff to heart, or they don't understand that it's a performance, or that maybe we mean the opposite of what we're saying. The laugh comes so that you get it and kinda go, "Ah, I get what he's saying." Sometimes it's satire, and the fact that people are that... I don't know what the word is, because obviously they're able to do it with other art forms.

When Juliet is like, "Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?," nobody's ever heckled and went, "He's under the balcony, you dumb whore!," whereas we get heckled. Just the fact that we get heckled proves that they don't understand the art form. So, you just understand that and move on and go, "Ah, if they don't get it, they don't get it." You know, what are you going to do?

Q: Because a lot of your humor touches on things that are, as you say, politically incorrect, do you go into it expecting that you'll get a rise out of people?

A: I don't look at it like that, I swear to God. I don't think of funny things that are edgy, I just think of things that are whatever they are.

Here's an example. I do a joke that's very, very intricate, but one of the basic punchlines of this premise is that African Americans are not good swimmers. And I inevitably get (growling noise), right? I only said that because it's a fact. You take every race per capita, black Americans have the least amount of swimmers per every hundred. You look at the history of the Olympics, you can see a trend there. Obviously, black people are great athletes in this country. There is that trend as well. What annoys me is that when I say something like that, it's real and it's meant to depict what's going on, and people are like, "Why did you say that?" Then I have to back it up.

In the end, if you don't want Carlos Mencia to make statements like that, then let's start putting more swimming pools in the ghetto. I can't tell you how many firefighter friends I have in certain places where so many of the African American candidates fail out when it comes to the swimming test. When you're flying into places like Los Angeles, when you're going through middle class neighborhoods there are a lot of swimming pools. As soon as you hit the ghetto, swimming pools are gone. It's like I told a friend of mine last night: when you live in the ghetto, and you have to go through two or three neighborhoods where you might get shot in order to go to the swimming pool, swimming doesn't become that big of a fucking priority at that point.

So, I don't want to defend my comedy the way I just described it to you, but in truth I never look at it as edgy. I look at it as, "Well, that's a fact!" The majority of illegal aliens are Mexican. I don't understand why anybody's gonna get pissed off about that, but then some illegal alien Mexican will get mad at me and say, "You know there are people from El Salvador crossing the border, too!" I never said there weren't, I just said the majority... It's like, whoa, why can't we make statements without people getting all freaked out? But people get freaked out, that's what they do, and I'm here to point out all the stuff that Geraldo Rivera or Lou Dobbs or you can't, because your editor would say, "You can't say that."

Q: Do you get in trouble with the Latino community a lot?

A: I get in trouble with everybody a little bit. I don't get in trouble a lot because, in the end, the truth is that my comedy is many things, and one of those things is that it's responsible. If you pay attention to the nuances you'll find that I'm saying a lot of things, but on top of that I'm saying them in a positive way. I'm trying to make a difference in the world.

For example, when I get through with that "black people can't swim" joke, if I have to go through that whole gamut of things and go, "Do you get it now?," and the audience is laughing, at the end what they have is some knowledge that, hey, there's something to this swimming thing, and maybe we need to fix this problem.

My biggest concern as a comedian is not making statements without being funny. The kind of comedy that I do or George Carlin does or Chris Rock does, if we don't get a laugh, it's preaching. That needs to be paid attention to.

Q: Do most people assume you’re Mexican-American?

A: Yeah.

Q: I know that you were born in Honduras... although I assume that's not the kind of thing that would bother you.

A: Nah. But listen, I grew up in East L.A. and my mom is Mexican. My mother, who raised me, was born in Jeres, Zacatecas, Mexico, so it doesn't bother me at all. I'm over it, I've been over it a long time, but what used to get annoying is that I would go on stage and do jokes and say that I was born in Honduras, but no matter what I say, people in California are like, "What part of Mexico is Honduras?"

I would literally do that joke, and then at the end of the show somebody would be like, "Hey, man, I don't think that it's cool that you pretend to be Mexican." What the fuck? I said I was from Honduras, you dickhead! And they're like, "Yeah, but then you did all these Mexican jokes." What the fuck does that have to do with anything? (frustrated shriek) I'm over it, but that was kind of annoying, to be completely honest with you. I was like, now you're going to get mad at me for your ignorance? Is that what's happening now?

Q: When you were coming up as a comedian, did you feel that being a Latino either hurt or helped you in any way?

A: You know what? I think it helped in some ways, I think it hurt in other ways. It's all a hypothesis. I've never been anything but what I am. That shit is for whiners. "If I was white it would have been easier! If I was black it would have been easier!" I can hypothesize that being a Latino helped me get deals. I can almost guarantee that, because every company has always wanted to say, "Hey, we're trying to do shows with Latinos." So, I was always in a holding deal with this company, that company, ABC, NBC, blah blah blah.

On the other hand, Hollywood is one of those places that when something hits and becomes very successful, everybody follows. The fact that before the [George] Lopez show, there hadn't really been a hit Latino TV show since "Chico and the Man," all through the '80s and '90s, that probably made it more difficult to actually get on the air. In the end, if you have to put a minority in place, who are you going to put?

I remember that I had a deal with ABC the year the show Damon Wayans did got on the air, and I remember that it was down to Damon and myself. Either his show was going to get picked up or mine was. And I remember thinking, "There's no way they're going to pick up my show." Because Damon already has a track record, he's coming off "In Living Color," and black shows have already been proven to be successful on that level, whereas shows like mine haven't. I remember thinking that from a business perspective, that show would be a smarter show to pick up. If I was the president of the network, I would have picked up that show first.

Now things are beginning to change. You've got a guy like Carlos Mencia who is doing unbelievably well, the ratings are great, and it's across the board, not just Latinos are watching. That's a big deal, that's saying that America embraces this type of comedy.

Q: You mentioned being in movies. Can you tell me about being in "The Heartbreak Kid"?

A: I have a really, really good role that was, by the way, written already, so it's really awesome that I look at it and say, "Wow, someone actually took the time to write this role." It wasn't written for me, there was already this extravagant Latino character. Things like that didn't happen as much before, and now they're happening more frequently, so that is a change, a good change for Latino actors.

Q: As you become better known, I imagine you'll probably get more chances at starring movie roles rather than supporting ones. Would you want to do that?

A: Hopefully, yeah, man! Look, that's what we all want. I don’t mean that that's my goal, I want to keep growing and I want to keep showing different sides of myself. If I become a movie star, so to speak, I guarantee that we'll have a conversation and I'll say I want to write a movie or direct a movie. It’s never going to end because life is a cycle, it just continues. You keep going and see what you can do with what comes forth, and that's kind of where I'm at.

It's fun, it's a fun time to be me. I know that I personally have changed a lot of things in Hollywood, and that makes me feel really good as a human being. It's tough for me to look at it that way because it's me, it seems fucking arrogant to think about that stuff. But then my friends call me up and they're like, "Hey bro, you're not gonna believe this, but I went to this audition and they were doing three different commercials, and on two of them it said 'character played like Carlos Mencia.'" I'm like, "What? They're looking for people like me for these commercials?" And they're like, "Yeah, they know they can't get you because you're doing Bud Light commercials." That's crazy, that's unbelievable.

Or friends of mine that are like, "Thanks for giving me a gig," because folks will call me up and say, "Hey, we want you to do blankety-blank," and I'm like, "I can't, man, but I'll steer you in the right direction and this guy's a great guy to have perform." I look at the dynamic of television and how things are changing and it's fun to be a part of that process.

Q: It's good to hear that you're not getting complacent.

A: No, I can't. In the end, I come from a working family, and I could be digging ditches, man. There but for the grace of God, you know what I'm saying? There's a sense of responsibility that comes with it, it's that Spider-Man thing. I can't slack off because it's not like I'm one of a long line of all kinds of Latino comedians that are kicking ass. The truth is that, not for me but for America out there, there's George Lopez, you might remember Paul Rodriguez - you hopefully remember Paul Rodriguez – and Carlos Mencia. That's not a lot, man. That's a lot of responsibility for us to bear.

It's not like, if you're not Martin Lawrence, then you're Chris Rock, or you're Eddie Murphy, or you're Jamie Foxx, or you're Chris Tucker. And then guess what? Oh shit, if Chris Tucker's not going to do the movie, then this guy's not going to do the movie. You know what I mean? If I'm busy and George is busy, I don't know that they can get a cache name, so to speak. So we kind of have a responsibility, and when we do something it resonates kind of loud in our communities, so we have to make sure we don't do things that piss off our people too much.

Q: One last question – who, living or dead, would you most like to spend one day with?

A: It would have to be Aristotle because the things that he talked about, with regards to society, coming from somewhat of a mirror of society, myself, I'd like to talk to him about the future more than I'd like to know about what he talked about. I've already read what he knows. I would like to tell him that all the things he talked about with regards to humanity and mankind and human nature are pretty much exactly the same thousands of years later. To kind of let him know that we're still fighting for balance. I'm on the one side fighting your fight, and the complacent people are still in the middle not doing shit. It would be a great conversation to have with him, because he would be listening to me. How cool is that? Aristotle would be going, "What is going on, and how do people act, and what do they do, and what is the world like?" There's something kind of cool about me looking at Aristotle and going, "Hey, relax, bro. We're going to get through it. Let me tell you."

12:55 PM, December 30, 2007  
Blogger Barb said...

This year, I learned how to make saurkraut.
I also discovered that I actually like saurkraut.
*Cheers!*

2:22 PM, January 11, 2008  
Blogger kyle t. said...

Hey! It's the one-month anniversary of this post! Hooray! Happy anniversary, post!

7:29 PM, January 30, 2008  

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