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The Unnatural Cook

a chronicle of weekly meal plans from someone who can't just throw a meal together

My first apartment in New York (in 1989!) was in the East Village. My father had to co-sign the lease and the landlord assured him I’d be safe “because the drug dealers didn’t want any trouble from the police.” Remarkably, he signed. The East Village was still home then to a fairly large Polish community and I discovered the joy of pierogis and keilbasa.

Up at the Yurt there is store which I have never seen open that seems to sell pools. But behind it, if you look carefully, you will see a door propped open. Inside a Polish woman and her family make divine pierogis and sell them by the dozen. I brought home two dozen: potato and onion and potato and cheese. They are already cooked and need simply to be fried and served with fried onion and sour cream. I have yet to find the equivalent in Brooklyn but I’m sure, somewhere in Greenpoint, there is a door open waiting to be walked through.

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