Kielbasa (Ka-Olw-Ba-Sa)

I did not expect so much Kielbasa! It is everywhere, every shape, size, flavor you can imagine or even not ever imagine! Red, Pink, White, Black, with garlic, without garlic, extra fat, no fat  etc. It monopolizes the supermarkets and is served at every meal. One day I stumble upon a restaurant called “The Burger Bar” it had a picture of a cow, one that you might see in a butcher shop outlining the different cuts. I was so thrilled and was dying for a good hamburger, anything other than another kielbasa. I went in and ordered a burger. I watched the man take out a thick patty and put it on the grill, I sat down with a cold beer and waited. They delivered it on a nice bun with the works. I took a big bite and I swear it was a kielbasa shaped into a round patty! Nothing like the burgers at D. Rowes back in Columbia, Mo.  I am planning a welcome home party at D. Rowes when I return.
On another culinary note I am invited to a casual dinner by the sister of my host. She speaks some English. When I arrive her mother, father, and two aunts greet with a warm Polish hug and a kiss on both cheeks. We are first served some pastries, desert. Then they brought out some nice grainy bread smeared with what looked like butter with chopped cooked onion. They explained that it was actually animal fat – from a pig. It was cold bacon grease with some onion spread on the bread. Fortunately I took a small piece.                           I thought this completed the meal. But then they brought out a large bowl of boiled potatoes, rabbit stew and a cucumber salad- really delicious.
Then the grandfather brought out a bottle of “Polish Vodka” and emphasized how this was not Russian vodka made out of potatoes, but real home make organic Polish vodka made out of rye. He was very proud and I immediately knew that this was an honor to be offered his homemade rye vodka. I realize refusing to have some will be an insult. Oh, these social dilemmas.
I think back to when I was in Honduras teaching a group of nurses in a small remote village. They had a small party after the two-day course and served little sandwiches and warm coke. They held up the party until a small boy came running in with a glass covered with a very worn, dirty dish rag. When they ceremoniously uncovered the glass, it was full of ice. I was the honored guest and the only one to have real ice in my coke. I hesitated to drink it knowing the water had probably not been purified, but I did. Several days later I was doubled over in pain with intestinal amoebas for which I had to be treated with a ghastly medicine.
So now I am in a similar situation. I have no idea of the proof of this hard liquor. But I graciously nod that I will accept just a little. He fills a tumbler full – a TUMBLER! I almost die thinking about drinking it, passing out and being carried off and sold into polish slavery!

Polish hot dog buns and 26 different varieties of kielbasa at the market. I am trying to figure out how the toppings stay on the hot dog once stuffed in the bun!