Pierogi-rama

The fruit of hard labor: pierogi!!! These happen to be prune-filled but we also made meat and mushroom with sour cream, cheese and onion, and sweet cheese and raisin.

Yesterday I garnered up the courage to host about 15 women from church and friends for my second ever pierogi making evening (the first was back in 2006). With my kitchen bursting at the seams, we occupied all available counter and table space along with the stove top. It was truly a grand production. We had a number of stations: dough rolling, form making, boiling, and frying pan. Everyone performed admirably and best of all the end result was scrumptious.

 It's hard to believe but I have the reputation of being a pro. Truth be told, I actually can count on two hands the number of times I've made them, but somehow that has earned me the title of "champion pierogi maker". Indeed I am a champion if effort counts :) I give pierogi making and pretty much everything I do my all. :)

My grandmother and aunt are the pierogi makers in our family. Unfortunately, I was never at home to get a lesson when they sat down to make them for our Christmas eve meal. Instead I had to settle for "watching" grandma make pierogi a couple times. Several years back while I was living in Arlington, I simply decided to give it a shot on my own. Well, my first attempt might not have looked so pretty, but they were very tasty.


 I'd say I'm about as talented pinching Polish pierogi as I am pinching Chinese dumplings. So, a year or two ago I opted for a pierogi form/cutter and have been employing this amazing tool ever since. It's a life changer!

If you're looking for some good fillings, cooks.com is a good source. Check out: http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,174,144166-236194,00.html.

Now that I've got pierogi down, I think it's time to move on to other Polish or Slovak goodies... I'm thinking about barszcz or borscht. After detesting dark purple beets as a child, I absolutely adore this delicious Eastern European soup.

Paris in September

Catching up on lost time...

My mom arrived for a month-long visit toward the end of September. Fortunately for me, I had 2 Czech holidays which we used to take a 4-day weekend in Paris. I've passed through Paris a few times, but never really had the chance to savor it. I admit ... I tried to jam pack quite a lot into our trip and I didn't accomplish quite everything. But mom had an awesome time, we walked plenty so that we could eat plenty, and there's still many reasons to return.

Cold October Thoughts

I walked a mile with Pleasure, 

She chattered all the way; 

But left me none the wiser

For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow, 

And ne'er a word said she;

But, oh, the things I learned from her

When sorrow walked with me. 


Robert Browning Hamilton

I've cautioned myself against it, but I can't help remembering where I was a year ago this week. Last year at this time I was in Madison, Wisconsin, the land of cheese heads. It wasn't your average family get together, but one that left my life and the lives of my family members forever changed. 

By the grace of God, I hopped not one, but 4 different flights, getting the last seat on each aircraft to get to Madison with the hope of seeing my father who had been hospitalized and in intensive care after traveling to visit my brother Mark. Despite receiving a clean cancer scan 2 1/2 months earlier, Dad's mantle cell lymphoma returned for a final curtain call. As Dad put it once they were able to extubate him, "this disease is vicious."  

The chilly air tonight and fall foliage transported me back in time. Autumn used to symbolize fun, happy, good times: the World Series, the return of high school, college, and NFL football, swim season, and hot chocolate. Despite living overseas, as soon as I see orange and feel a certain crispness in the air, I pull out my sweaters and warmer clothing with a sense of nostalgia, remembering the good old days of my youth... of blissful ignorance.

October and November have new significance for me. I'm reminded that as the seasons change, so is life constantly changing.  According to the Book of Ecclesiastes, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to hear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace" (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8). The author of Ecclesiastes also tells us God has set eternity in the hearts of men (v 10). Our hearts ache for a reason.   

Sorrow has accompanied me on much of life's journey this past year. She's not your usual first pick as a travel companion. But her work is good and purposeful. 

PS: Sorry for the absence, but the last 4-5 weeks have been insanely busy. My mom was here for a full month. Between work and Mom, a free minute was hard to find. I'm pretty sure I was running high on adrenalin during that time. Since delivering Mom to the airport and helping her check in her uber-heavy luggage, I've been catching my breath. 

"I Beg Your Pardon...

I Never Promised You a Rose Garden"... Anyone know the artist who sang this famous country crossover mega hit of 1970? I'll give you a little hint. She also sang "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." No? Nothing yet? How about... She was a regular performer on The Lawrence Welk Show starting in 1967... Got it? 

I certainly didn't have a clue. But, this tune popped into my mind this afternoon as I passed through Prague Castle's rose garden. So when I got home and was uploading my photos, I found the tune on Grooveshark and came to find out it was Lynn Anderson (thanks Wikipedia). 

My Grandpa Wyszkowski always used to tell me to take time out to smell the roses. Well, Grandpa, I smelled a whole bunch today. Their perfumes were varied and simply glorious. And, yes, Grandpa was right. It's a practice we all should take to heart. 

I don't know about you but I firmly believe that the weekend is too short. I need three days ...yeah, which brings to mind another classic tune... this one by the Beach Boys.... "Wouldn't it be nice..."

Fast Forward to Fall

I must have missed the memo: mother nature pressed the fast forward button to autumn. It is still August, granted the end of the month, but it feels like October. My fingers are shivering - no, my whole body is shivering. This is absolutely crazy. Today's high was something like 57 and at 10:30 pm it is around 45. The cold is numbing my brain. I am having problems stringing together coherent thoughts so please forgive me. This weekend went by pretty much as fast as the week did. Not fair. I like the weekends to slooooooow down.

Anyhow, I had a friend arrive from Frankfurt on Friday so I decided to test out a few recipes. Friday night I made a pasta skillet from My Recipes with tomatoes, chick peas, basil, balsamic vinegar, angel hair pasta and grated romano cheese. (My Recipes includes recipes from Cooking Light, Southern Living, Sunset, Coastal Living, All You, Real Simple, and Health.) Since I had spinach in the fridgerator, I decided to spruce the recipe up a bit. I actually just made it again tonight for another friend (I made too much spaghetti on Friday and wanted to use it up) and threw in olives, which added a nice kick. If you're at all curious where the hodge podge of ingredients above leaves you, try it out for yourself. Here's a link to the recipe: http://find.myrecipes.com/recipes/recipefinder.dyn?action=displayRecipe&recipe_id=223284&adsqs=

My advice... go wild and crazy. Add whatever leftover veggies you might have. I used dried basil and a little marjoram the second time around and loved it even more. This is a great EASY recipe. Enjoy!

Saturday morning I decided to test a coffee cake recipe from Joy of Baking. I happened to be checking Facebook on Friday and noticed it. The coffee cake crumble picture kept calling my name and I gave in.  After all, I'm gradually trying to expand my repertoire so every new recipe helps. Also, I simply find time in my kitchen therapeutic. I think it has something to do with the act of creation. When you cook and bake, you have an end product. It's rather gratifying. While it might not always look phenomenal - especially if it's the first time - my track record is that nearly 90-95% percent of the time it tastes mighty good regardless of whether it looks exactly like the picture online or in the cookbook. I actually don't remember the last time I tried a recipe I didn't like. It has been a good roll. :) Here's the coffee cake recipe: http://www.joyofbaking.com/breakfast/CoffeeCake.html. It turned out nice and light. It also looked beautiful. I did like it, but something in me, perhaps my gut, keeps whispering that I'd prefer a fruit coffee cake, one with apple or blueberries or something along those lines. I guess perhaps I should find such a recipe and compare them :)

Hmmm, it seems that the topic of food warms the fingers, mind, and soul. Maybe I don't need a third cup of hot tea after all.

Happy cooking and baking!

A Crazy Full Weekend!

Where to begin...Friday night I hosted a dinner party and served zucchini-crusted pizza out of Moosewood's cookbook. I highly recommend any Moosewood cookbook you can get your hands on. It's a famous vegetarian restaurant in Ithaca, NY near Cornell University. My brother introduced me to it when he was a Cornell student. I think my next Moosewood's experiment will be their low-fat mac-n-cheese. Is that even possible? We shall find out.

Saturday made my Better Homes and Garden buttermilk pancakes with pecans and rushed out the door around 11:25 am to catch a train to Karlstejn. With two friends did a 14 km hike from Karlstejn to Cernosice where we waited no longer than 90 seconds for the train to whisk us back to Prague. Here are a few sights from our hike:

We passed through poppy fields, meadows, woods, and villages. We even came upon several meters of ants marching!

The 14 km took about 3 1/2 hours. Arrived back at my flat around 6:00 pm and was back out the door around 7:20 pm after a nice bath. Ate Costa Rican food and played Settlers of Catan till late Saturday. 

After church this morning I headed to the Sapa Vietnamese market on the outskirts of Prague with a few friends and went over to Rebecca's place for homemade red curry with fish and jasmine rice. Got home around 7:30 pm and find myself wondering where the weekend went!

How about you? 

Pecena Jablka - Baked Apple

Say hello to my baked apple maker, a birthday gift from my friend Lenka.
You chop up an apple, put some butter on the inside of the round "bulb," add the apples and some cinnamon and nutmeg, put the top on, light the tea light, and wait for warm baked apple goodness.

YUM!

Saturday Afternoon Reflections

This was my office view at 6 pm on Friday. The pounding of the rain, hitting sideways on my office windows both distracted me and made me in no hurry to leave work. However, a mere 15 minutes after I took the photo the rain stopped and the dark clouds dissipated.

Would we know that the major chords were sweet,
If there were no minor key?
Would the painter's work be fair to our eyes,
Without shade on land or sea?
Would we know the meaning of happiness,
Would we feel that the day was bright,
If we'd never known what it was to grieve,
Nor gazed on the dark of night?

These are not my words, but they sure strike a deep chord. They come from a devotional book, "Streams in the Desert," by L.B. Cowman, a missionary to Japan and China. This collection of thoughts, verses, and quotations helped sustain Cowman as she nursed her dying husband. "Streams in the Desert" has been a huge blessing to me as I process and continue to grieve my father.

No hiking adventures planned for this weekend... just much needed quiet and R&R. I am getting ready to head over to a German friend's for dinner. Her husband left for the weekend to go watch his favorite football (soccer) team play. Not a bad deal. This means homemade tiramisu and something equally tasty for dinner...

Birthday

Today I enjoyed one of the loveliest of birthdays. After torrential down pours on Saturday- albeit nothing on par with what is happening in Pakistan and China -  the sun broke out in Prague. I wasn't 100% sure what the day might hold for on my way to church in the morning a pigeon came within inches of well, you know what. 

The sun held out throughout the day and allowed me and 12 friends to enjoy the beautiful garden of the restaurant formerly known as John and George's next to the Lennon wall in Prague. While I've been there a couple of times, it was the first time for all but one friend. 

The birthday crew

Everyone was pleased with their food - quiches, thai noodles, salmon, balsamic chicken, blueberry crumble cake. But most of all, everyone was taken in by the garden's special atmosphere, with its carpet of green grass, statue alcoves, flowers, birds, and Romanesque walls. 

The highlight of the afternoon had to be my friend Liz's birthday dance. I'm not sure my friend Alice got it all on video, but if she got even a portion of it and posts it on YouTube, it is bound to go viral. Think TGIF sing a long with the addition of cheerleading choreography. And, imagine a loud American breaking out in song and dance amidst peacefully dining Europeans (and a few American tourists). Since my eyes were on Liz, I did not have a chance to look at our neighbors' faces. According to my friend Zannah, the Czech customers at first were totally shocked, but by the time Liz concluded her masterpiece they were all smiles. As for me, I had tears coming down my cheeks. Wow. You had to be there. 

Liz and I on Charles Bridge

After lunch, we headed over to Kampa island park, next to the Vltava river, and plopped down and ate cupcakes and drank South African vino. It was PERFECT. Thank you Lord for an amazing day. My heart is truly joy-filled tonight. 

Together with Liz and Zannah on Charles Bridge

Discovering Bohemia

Hmmmm, what is this?

DOH, it's a milk automat, of course! If you don't have a bottle, just push the button and the farmer will bring you one for a small fee. This was just one discovery on our early spring trip to Rip, the place where Father Cech (Czech) brought his kinsmen to settle, according to legend. How absolutely lovely to hop off the bus and begin our journey with fresh milk! And, so darn cheap! Supposedly there are about 200 automats around the Czech Republic. This is a way Czech farmers have used to bi-pass middlemen grocery stores and keep more of the profit.

One thing I've committed to this summer is spending as much time as I can outdoors hiking and enjoying the beautiful nature of the Czech Republic. What I love about it most is that everybody is active here! You don't need to have the latest treking gear to go hiking. You simply need a good pair of walking shoes and a desire to walk. It's as simple as that.
Mind you, this was probably the first truly warmish/hot day of the year, and I helped form the tail end of the group. 

Remembering Dad

On Faith and Hope

I think I'll try to write again...

Every day I look for signs of my father. It has become a kind of game I play in the wee hours of the night when the ache sets in. I type his name into Google, hoping to find some sign of life, or rather, more signs of the lives he touched. When I discover a new entry to his obituary guest book, or a comment from a former student or player on our high school memorial wall in Facebook, my heart leaps as tears swell up. I yearn to know more, but mostly, I yearn to reach out and to touch him.

My father died on November 2, 2009. There's not a day that passes, hardly an hour that passes that I don't think of him. I constantly look at pictures and view the few videos I have of him, listening intently for that booming voice. I still struggle with memories of dad's last week on this earth in Meriter Hospital in Madison, Wisconsin. But finally other memories have begun to win out, even pre-cancer ones. I can hear his knock on my bedroom door as a kid, and his call to get up, "Rise and shine. You're burning day light." I can also hear the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as he unloaded the dishwasher in the morning before most of the family was awake. I remember wishing him a Merry Christmas on Christmas morning last year and giving him a big kiss on the cheek. And I remember plenty more.

The first few weeks and even months after he passed I felt alone, perhaps even abandoned. My heart echoed the expression of grief aptly described by C.S. Lewis in A Grief Observed, which he wrote following the death of his beloved wife Joy. Like Lewis, I, too, felt as if a door had been slammed in my face.

"Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be — or so it feels — welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?"

I'm glad those dark days seem to be behind me. My heart continues to ache, and it seems it always will, but I feel the Lord's presence in a real and tangible way, His loving embrace. Yes, I do.

Although I may never know the answers to so many questions -- why mantle cell lymphoma, why my dad, why now at the age of 69 -- somehow it is okay. It's not the story I would have written, but I will trust in the story that God has written.