Guest Sausage: Sausage on the move

Florian writes of our tour of the British conference circuit--and restaurants--across the UK:

"The last two weeks were occupied by three conferences in England—one in Oxford, one in Bristol, one in London—and coincidence had it that A and I went to all three of them together. Inevitably, sausages accompanied our journeys and since A's camera was out of reach, I employed the camera of my very old mobile phone to photograph some of our meaty friends. Most of the photos didn't come to anything, courtesy of my phone's poor camera, and even the two here shown have pretty grainy pixels. But, hey, when a sausage passes your way, you cannot allow technical vicissitudes to stand in your way. Both images were made in Oxford, and yet highlight the sausages cosmopolitanism, with one picture depicting a selection of the great many varieties of English sausages in a butcher's display in Oxford market, while the other is an Italian dish of orecchiette salsiccia e broccoli, containing fried pieces of spicy salsiccia mantovana. I can assure you the consumption of the dish was sweetened with lots of 'house red'. Then again, can one possibly sweeten the delight of eating sausages?"

Dancing on the Edge of a Volcano

In the last months, I keep learning how challenging history can be. Everyday I'm confronted by missing documents and stories told to me that (otherwise) remain untold. As I write, I repeatedly try and understand how difficult it can be to weave everything together. But my work as a historian is hardly the history that has proven the most challenging in the past 14 days.

I've been traveling and experiencing post-Smoleńsk Polish history abroad -- at embassies, chatting with Poles abroad, and through newsmedia. How to wrap my mind around my own absence from the streets of Warsaw as Poland comes to terms with the vulnerable void left by the crash? Debates about Wawel, the political arena's future, and culpability skirt around the issue. For me, it's the memorials placed outside people's places of work that convey the human loss many are experiencing.

Expect colorful sausage coverage from me in the next days -- to catch up. But in the meantime, I'll let this British pub grub absurdly symbolize my confusion.

Guests' Sausage: Americans from Paris in Warsaw!

On a recent visit to Warsaw, Louis and Maggie reveled in the culinary delights of Poland and its Eastern European brethren. They were so satisfied by and grateful for A's restaurant recommendations that they asked permission to share their excellent experience with all of A's blog readers, just in case any of them found themselves in Warsaw without A around. Thus was this guest post born.

Just around the corner from A's apartment, on Plac Konstytucji, there's a restaurant called U Szwejka. According to A, this means At Švejk's. But it also reminded us of Meredith, whose last name is eerily similar, and whom we missed dearly during our unofficial music-grad-students-abroad-on-fellowship-weekend-frolic-in-Warsaw. Anyway, back to the restaurant.

A can tell you who the restaurant's mascot is, and whether he has anything to do with the neon smoke-stack and animated puffs advertising the restaurant. In any case, the façade alone tells you that this is a spirited, "folksy" restaurant. It's kind of like the Polish Applebee's.

Except the ambiance is way, way more spirited (and of course more Polish). While we waited for our food, we enjoyed not one but two separate concerts by roving musicians.

Finally, the main event: the food. Portions were generous - no, make that ginormous. With four different kinds of sausage and lots of accoutrements, a single appetizer was more than enough for the three of us.

The main platters were almost insurmountably large and oh-so-heartily delicious. From top-to-bottom, some before and after shots of Louis' schnitzel, A's ribs, and Maggie's goulash:

We tried really, really hard to finish all the food, we swear. Thanks, U Szwejka, for filling our bellies with deliciousness and filling our spirits with joy!

East Side Story

I'm really just using that title for this entry because it conveys that I'm writing about another sausage from the "East" (Bulgaria!). Also, it emphasizes that I have been witness to 4 pieces of artistic stuff (poetry, an art installation, a video, and [of course] articles about jazz) with that title in the last two months. So, I wanted to help wear it out, because it's not so genius in the first place.

Genius? That the waitress at my local Bulgarian haunt suggested sausage to me after my original request (something with cheese) was unavailable. Here's what I got.

This mode of delivery, all wound up like a lollipop, allows the outside to be crispy, but the inside to remain moist without all of the fat that plumper sausages have. (Who says I'm not learning in my eating?) Obviously, those potatoes were heavenly. And I have to say, I think this mass-produced folksy pottery is a genius way to give sausage, cabbage, and other pale starches some relief in presentation. Check out my very tasty lentil salad below. Looks...blech. But that's not how it tasted!

Guest Blog: Happy New Year!

Warsaw is really not like this every day. But this is pretty hefty gray, no? That security man is keeping slush from killing people on the sidewalk below. Kind of a fun job, I think.

Meredith entices me to Taiwan with these new year's sausages. They look so ... much like fireworks! Who wouldn't want to try them?


I guess this man. He looks kind of done with the whole selling of the sausage. Maybe he and I need to do a cultural exchange:

Tłusty Czwartek

After spending my morning brushing up my Polish (that's how I spend many mornings) last Thursday, I headed off for my usual pre-reading ritual: good coffee. Lo and behold, as I trudged through the snow -- seriously, so much snow has been falling -- I saw a crowd of people. Even though I knew who they were and why they didn't mind hovering in the wet snow for hours, I was surprised at how long the queue was on ulica Chmielna:

Obviously, they're all waiting for fresh pączki (also known as Krapfen, Berliner, or just plain old jelly-filled) on the last Thursday before lent. Fat Thursday! This place on Chmielna (thanks, Greg, for the hat-tip) has the freshest and best in Warsaw. So fresh that they can't be kind when they serve you. No matter: delicious!! And everyone here thought a minimum two hour wait was critical to their pre-Lenten parties. I waited forty five minutes before deciding that I wasn't that picky about my donuts, unless it's the cake doughnuts in Ball Square at Lyndell's, which are obviously the only ones I'll eat in the greater Boston area.

Then I went and had my coffee and this nice, very adequate, but not earth-shattering pączek:

Guest Sausage: Cassoulet from St. Paul!

Even though I'm simmering sausage (veal + pork) in vermouth as I write this, I've not been eating much sausage of late. It would be tasty in the winter, and it is tasty in the winter. So I don't know what I've been up to, making soup without browned sausage. But Ben and Glenda are saving me from shame by providing what looks like an amazingly delicious cassoulet (let's be honest, it's a casserole. It just definitely doesn't have Fritos sprinkled on top!) for your wurst pleasure. Here we go!



Glenda writes: "Cassoulet is a traditional French dish, basically a bean and pork stew that takes three days to make and tastes like ... magic. Succulent tender sausage and duck confit, creamy beans, a crisp crust made from bread crumbs -- perfection! Following a recipe in Cooks Illustrated, we made it in four and a half hours instead of three days, and were delighted with our creation. The beans were deliciously smooth after soaking overnight in salt water (their skin shrank at first, making me afraid we'd already ruined the meal! By the morning the beans had calmed down and their skin was smooth again. Whew!). We cooked the beans with salt pork and bratwurst, which is the best substitution for fancy French sausage that we couldn't get/afford in Minnesota. Having never worked with uncooked sausage before, it was something of an adventure to cook them, especially since they were sooo slippery and weirdly water-logged after we parboiled them.
In what some may think is a sacrilegious move, we didn't include confit, because learning how to make one thing at a time seemed like a good idea. Also, the salt pork was also an experience, but not sausage related so I won't go into it here. Suffice it to say, it is sort of icky.
Finally, crucial to our success was the new Dutch oven we bought just for this dish. Thank you, Dutch oven!"

Sausage counter: Guest Photo!

Over the winter break, Matthias and Seda snapped this completely heartwarming picture of a German sausage counter. What I find shocking, having seen about 100 Polish sausage counters, is the relative sparsity of smoked sausages. Here in Poland, people tend to vary the spices but use pretty roughly ground, nasty parts of the pig. Then they dry it via smoking. Every town (it seems) has its favorite version, its favorite pig parts. But look below at all these amazing semi-processed, smoothly spreading sausages. Perfect for Abendbrot.


Then, of course, there's the sausage counter outside of the grocery store, on the street. No worries, this guy wasn't hovering in the arcades off of Krakowskie Przedmieście when the temperature hovered around -22 degrees (Celsius, of course) for 5 days. I'm pretty sure that sausage (and vodka!) freeze at that temperature.

Mmmm Naleśniki

I am eternally indebted to Michael for helping me realize the joy that is the corner crepe place. It's just about one of the best places in Warsaw. And, do you seeeeee that melted cheese. Yes, you do. And you know, that's why Poles move to Wisconsin. The salami -- not from Poland -- is incidental.

Happy New Year!

And, of course!, a digression to wish health in 2010. Here's what I was eating (to ensure my own arteries' stamina?) as the clock struck midnight:


Well, I didn't eat ALL of it.

Cabbage digression

The holidays brought much sausage into my life, for this I am very thankful. Diverse and delicious, this portioning of meat has tremendous potential.

But before I got very serious about sausage, I was very serious about cabbage. This is essential in Poland: it is the healthiest available vegetable. And it reminds me of lettuce. Of course, it's also the staple of Christmas Eve dinner in Poland, and we had to do quite the work to prepare it for the various dishes that required it. It needed to be chopped and boiled and then ground into the smoothest of textures.

To start: a four kilo (!!!!) head:


An attack:


Superfastshreddingaction:


This smells really really terrible:

Oto Pan Bóg przyjdzie

You know, I haven't inflicted many Polish quotations on all of you, and it's about time. Because this weekend (as part of my "work") I heard a carol with the above incipit sung by small boys many times (maybe 6?). And the message of the service was clearly...Christmas is coming. It's almost here. YAY. For those interested, the direct translation of the hymn is that God is coming, the holy day (holiday!) is coming, and a great light will be in the coming days. Alleluja.

So, in the spirit of my avoidance of sausage post-Thanksgiving (no sausage, but definitely gluttony) and preparations for Xmas, I want to get back into talking about Polish food and nourishment more generally. I'm preparing to make a traditional feast for Wigilia (Christmas Eve). It's traditional to "Catholic-fast"--eat only fish and not-porkbeefpoultry. So there will be no sausage. Kind of.

That doesn't mean I haven't been eating it while I browse the carp recipes in my cookbook. (I'm going to cook it "Jewish style". I don't know why it's called that. It definitely has no bacon.) This was chicken sausage. It was so BORING. And salty. Only suited for sandwiches, I tell you.

And, of course, I have no obligation to stick with fish at the big feast. So I bought some pork-centric gifts for myself to unwrap. Krakowian sausage, dried and sliced. It looked really precious. And some pate.

Mikołajek!

It's the time of year during which I can, should I desire to, leave one of the archives in which I spend the day and go and eat sausage within two seconds. That's because there is a "Jarmark" (a Christkindlmarkt, a holiday "fair") right outside the door. In general, it's filled with goodies (mulled beverages, many ornaments, an organ grinder, multiple singing Christmas trees), but the most exciting places for this sausage connoisseur are the meat stands. Ok, also the stand that sells bread with lard and cracklings ....

It's the second Sunday in Advent and also St. Nicholas Day. Have you given your friends little gifts? Maybe they would like some smoked sausage? In a basket?

Mapping Europe sausageologically

So, my roommate having just made a whole mess of delicious chili, I'm about to embark on a little interlude in my sausage journeys devoted to the hot dog, frankfurter, or -- as in the photo above -- Bavarian sausage. With chili dogs on my horizon, I'm looking forward to trying to figure out what the different salt contents of the 10 different hot dog-esque offerings of the butcher are. Will I survive?

I have to say, these little links were really good. Not too salty -- something I cannot say for the beef (!) kiełbasa "with pepper" that I ate last week which may or may not be making an appearance here. I'm still mad that it didn't taste beefy. Anyway, the best feature of this sausage, and you can spot this if you've got a keen eye in the picture, is that it was "knackig". The texture, with bread and mustard, and a teensy bit of ketchup (don't tell) was energizing, like eating popcorn can be. If you don't understand what I'm talking about, I am sorry that you have never had a sausage this good.

Living it up in Berlin

Andres ran a half marathon to raise money for the American Liver Foundation this weekend! (Note: That is not a typo: I would never ever willingly do such a thing.) In honor of him, I want to share my wonderfully comforting liverwurst breakfast from last weekend in Berlin.

Actually, I technically ate this on The Day The Wall Fell (+20 years)! But the meal was more symbolic just because it was an everyday breakfast, enjoyed over delicious espresso and conversation. I just love German bread -- packed with sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, seeds the English language has no words for -- and spread with liverwurst? Excellent. It's creamy and packed with protein, so it's comforting in a way that salami never will be. Plus, ours was "Bio", which means that the people of Berlin will accept us into their fold. We did good.

Sausage in mysterious places

If you can't tell, these pierogi are Ukrainian, ordered in a German brew house in Warsaw. They are very straight-forward. Meat with some seasoning (not much) folded into rather hearty dough. These are boiled, so it's essential to douse them in sour cream. The texture is terrific, actually, warming and filling. This food tastes fundamentally nourishing.

I'm not _quite_ sure if I'd call it sausage, but I think the principle is the same. Package up the less-than-awesome meat in a new way, tastes like new!

Guest sausage: Boudin from Paris!

I don't exactly believe that sausages are universal. Because, that would be universalist. Also, it's not true. I do think, however, that often times people around the world have tried to preserve meat (or "other") using spices. Because meat goes bad, and refrigeration was invented relatively recently. And obviously I know it's fun to try sausages from different places. But, I can't be everywhere at once or eat sausage all the time (rather, that's not a risk I'm willing to take for my heart). So, I get a little help from my friends. Louis and Maggie sent me this picture of a totally awesome meal they made in Paris one night. There was another photo, too, but my computer doesn't like it. Trust me, really awesome. And probably healthy(ier that Polish sausage)!

Louis wrote:
"Well we had a delicious sausage-centric dish tonight that I wanted to tell you about. In France, weisswurst is called boudin and you can get it in the supermarket for cheap (and therefore mediocre). Here, they eat it with baked apple - Maggie had it at the house where she babysits and liked it. Tonight, we tried something different, cooking it, chopping it up, and throwing it in a stew/soup with white beans, zucchini, tomato, garlic, and various spices. It was delicious! We definitely plan on trying it again with higher quality boudin."

"So good, so good, so good!"

The perspective in this photograph makes it appear as though I ate enough egg noodles for an entire family. This is not the case. Well, it was the case earlier in the week, but this portion was actually totally acceptable in size. It is even blessed by fresh spinach and cumin, a recent triumphal find from the nearby Asian market.

What is excellent about this meal is everything. The hearty noodles, the caramelized onions, and the Potocka Kiełbasa. The Potocki family is one of the legendary aristocratic families of Poland, and it is unclear to me whether or not the name of this sausage references the elite excellency of the family or its place of origin (Potok). The internet will not tell me. It's kind of irrelevant, though, because my attempt to grill this in a pan with the onions (yes that means butter and pork fat!) produced something worthy of the elaborate plumage of the coat of arms most associated with it. Smoky, woody, but not salty, so that my chilled Żywiec actually lightened up the meal.

Indian food!

Though I am firmly invested in the belief that sausage makes pork a fascinating meat, I was pretty excited that the British Isles offer some terrific Indian food. At a buffet one evening, there was a whole tray of lamb sausage with onions, peppers, and spices that I'm sure I have yet to taste in Poland.

The surprise sausage! And look at those: chick peas, too! I'm wistful just thinking about about the layers of flavor in these dishes.

Sausage on the Move

I've been traveling around, mostly to various concert venues across Warsaw. Often these are churches, and I'm here to settle one question for all time: no, there is not sausage sold outside of Polish masses.

There is one thing we can always count on, though: full English breakfast and the "banger" that comes with it. I'm a big fan of the energy eggs provide with a morning meal, always. The sausage is shifty, though. Do we fill it with flour to save on the meat, soak up the fat, and help create a crispy shell? Or, is this meal a tribute to protein: eggs, beans, sausage, ham?

Doesn't matter, I've only ever eaten this meal in hotels, and on this trip the sausage was dry, but tasty. And, it had less salt than the ham. Thankfully.