Winter Hearty: Perogies

Winter has come to the Farm in the way of Snow. Now, there were many different feelings on this particular subject, in fact, some were actually happy to see the stuff! Christmas movies and music were set a blaring and the Boxes brought up, and yes, even opened, their contents spilled here and there. I am sorry to say, but what you’ve heard is true, the Farmhouse does indeed look as if Santa himself has paid a visit and thrown-up all his holly and jolly in each and every room. It must have been a tough day for the old guy, because he seems to have lost his hat—Hannah herself has got it perched on her head! Where does a Farmer’s Wife go to escape such madness? I know of only one place—the Kitchen—to make something labor intensive and time consuming. Now, let me just move some of this tinsel out of the way and we’ll get started.

Because today, we’re making some Perogies.

Perogies are similar to ravioli in that they’re pasta-ish and stuffed. And like ravioli, they can be stuffed with any variety of things. I’ve had them with sauerkraut and apples, softened onions and sour cream, but the most common and popular way to make these is with mashed potatoes. If you have some left over from the night before, all the better, because they need to be cold before they can be a stuffing. Because of that (and because of how much my family likes perogies), whenever I make mashed potatoes, I always make a double batch, setting half in the fridge for the next day. If you don’t have that on hand, you’ll have to make a batch and let it cool. For this recipe, I’d say about three medium white potatoes should do it, mashed with a clove of garlic (boiled in with the potatoes), a dash of salt, butter (a couple tablespoons), and some milk (a quarter cup or so—you don’t want them runny).

Now, if you think I’m just stuffing these things with regular old potatoes, you don’t know me at all. To make them my way, you’ll need a bit of bacon fat from the mug that lives next to the stove—you know the one—about a tablespoon or two. And don’t forget the sour cream, you’ll need a couple tablespoons of that, too. And some cheese. Colby-Jack. Nice and melty. Stir in a quarter cup of that and toss in a hand-full of finely chopped chives, if you’ve got them. If you don’t because your chives are covered in a layer of snow like mine are, you can add a bit of minced onion—about a tablespoon. This all gets stirred together and tasted for the need of salt and the need of pepper. If either or both are lacking, by all means, add them and set the mixture aside for now.  

Now, it’s on to that dough:

Three cups pastry flour is set in your mixer and with it an egg, a quarter cup of sour cream, a cup of water, and a quarter teaspoon of salt. For this, we’re using the paddle attachment and letting it go until it comes together in a ball and keep on letting it go for another five or so minutes. It should be soft and pliable. Take it out and set it on your workspace. I like to play with my food, so I kneed it a minute or two. The dough can be rolled out with a rolling pin, but since I have a pasta roller, that’s what I use. I set it through the first and second levels, and that’s where I stop, which makes it a bit thicker than pasta dough for ravioli, and much more pliable. This has a feeling of velvet—must be the sour cream! I knew it made everything better!

I cut it out with my empanada maker, but you can use a glass to make your circles. I put the pasta in the maker, add a scoop of filling and press it all together. If you don’t have an empanada maker, just add a scoop of filling to the center of your circle, fold in half, and press the edges together with a fork. Because the dough is so pliable, you won’t need to moisten the edges, like you do with ravioli.

These get set in a pan of boiling water and left to cook until they float, about three minutes. Take them out and let them sit on the counter until they’re dry. In the summer, I put these right on the grill. But it’s not summer. The grill’s been packed away. So, I’ll just have to make do with a pan filled with steaming butter. I’m sure you won’t mind.

Cook over medium heat, flipping sides to make sure all is nice and brown and toasty. Serve immediately. In the Winter, we have these with a thick Bratwurst alongside creamed corn. In the Summer I have them with…    Well, let’s not talk about that right now. I’m liable to get depressed.

Cheers!