Bigos. No Other Words Necessary.

Today I am back at work after a few days off. My husband, who is a teacher, was off for his spring break, so I decided to join him part of the week. We came up with this grand list of all the things we were going to accomplish around the house. Afterall, it isn't very often that we have five days off together where we aren't darting off on some vacation. Due to a lot of heavy rain and my inability to decide on what color to paint the guestroom after over a year of painting strips of color samples all over the walls, the flower beds still need weeding and my guestroom walls are still colorfully polka-dotted. Normally I would beat myself up about not getting most of the things I wanted to finally finish, well, finished, but not this time. Dear hubby and I decided it was nice to have a few days together where we got to be truly lazy and sleep in every day. We'll see if I still feel that way a week from now when I will undoubtedly wander into the guestroom and sneer in complete disgust, "Why can't I decide on a color? Why is the perfect shade of maize so hard to find?? Should I just paint the room blue? I give up. Paint the room bright orange for all I care, honey!" Put money on it. It will happen.

One nice perk this past week was that two of our neighbors, who we have become close friends with, also took the week off. We all took advantage of the situation and drove down to the lovely historic city of St. Augustine, which is only about a forty-five minute drive away, to wander around for the day. I love the rare chance to visit St. Augustine in the middle of the week when the tourists are not out in full force. The parking is so much easier, the restaurants not nearly as crowded, and you're a lot less likely to get stuck behind a horse-drawn carriage going one mile per hour. We didn't do anything or go anywhere outlandish or exciting. It's mainly nice just to mosey down St. George Street and check out all of the shops. There you'll find everything from beachwear shops to ice cream parlors to wineries to the oldest school house in America. Being the oldest city in the United States, it's a really neat little town that everybody should experience. I actually lived in St. Augustine for close to four years around 2002 to 2005 before moving back to Jacksonville, and I still have moments where I really miss it.

Walking past Potter's Wax Museum, we took a turn down Aviles Street. Aviles is lined with tiny cafes and bakeries. It's funny, I lived there for several years and I know I walked down Aviles Street many times, yet there was something I somehow managed to never notice. Right there on my left was a sign that read Gaufres & Goods, a European style cafe. On the window was a sign that said Polish Food. That stopped me in my tracks. I enjoy many foods--many, many varieties. There really isn't much I don't enjoy. But one thing that I love--and when I say love, I am referring to the deepest, darkest depths of my soul kind of love--is Polish food. I possibly even love Polish cuisine more than I do Italian, and that's saying quite a lot. I grabbed my husband's arm as tightly as I could and said, "David. David. Polish food. Right there." He was almost as excited as I was. I stress almost because, in general, I am a freak of nature and I'm not sure it's possible that anybody could be as excited about Polish food as I.





I converted David to Polish food when we last visited New York City. There is a true treasure of a restaurant on the Lower East Side of Manhatten called Little Poland. My oldest sister, a groovy Brooklyn dweller, took me there several years ago, and I found it to be not only one of the most delicious spots I've ever stepped foot in, but the closest I've tasted to my mother's own schnitzel--basically a breaded and fried chicken cutlet (mind you, my mother was not Polish, but Ukrainian, and the cuisines are extremely similar).
I dragged David in there for lunch, determined to make him a fan. I already knew I was ordering schnitzel with egg noodles and cucumber salad, but David didn't know what to try. I suggested a combo plate so he could try a variety of items. He ended up with a plate of peirogies, stuffed cabbage, and something neither of us had ever heard of--bigos, otherwise known as Hunter's Stew. When the plate was set in front of him, bigos appeared to be a pile of sauerkraut mixed with different types of meat and mushrooms. We each took a taste of it and nearly fell out of our chairs. It was, despite its rather unsavory appearance, one of the most comforting and exquisite things we'd ever tasted. My schnitzel paled in comparison (but of course I still ate it...what are you, crazy?). From that moment on we were officially bigos-lovers.

So as we stood in front of Gaufres & Goods, I had high hopes. It's a tiny place with only a few tables. The small menu was a mix of Polish, Greek, Italian, and a few others. We immediately asked the owner, who was also our waitress, about bigos. She seemed very surprised that we knew what bigos was. It was actually rather funny--maybe we don't look worldly enough to know about the novelties of European fare (hmph!). However, to our delight, bigos WAS on the menu. David and I split a serving, while our friends split a plate of peirogies. Our bigos was served in a bread bowl, which it wasn't in Little Poland. This bigos was good, but sadly, nowhere near as good as in New York. Bigos is one of those dishes that is rarely made the same way twice. Everybody in Poland has their own version, especially considering the dish dates back centuries. The bigos we ate at Little Poland was a little meatier and loose, where this bigos was filled with more mushrooms and prunes, very little meat, and was somewhat soupier. It was still tasty, and I certainly enjoyed the bread bowl, but I wasn't thrilled with it. The peirogies on the other hand, were fantastic! David and I have a wedding anniversary coming up soon, and I decided that I think a lovely and quiet dinner out at Gaufres & Goods might be the perfect place for the occasion. Only that time I'll be sure to order the pierogies.

I've never attempted making bigos at home. Supposedly, the true way to prepare it takes about a week. I cannot fathom my house smelling like sauerkraut for a week. My dog would probably roll over and die. Plus, if I attempted it and it tasted awful, I fear that the mysticism behind the dish itself would die. I could not do that to bigos. I owe it to the bigos gods, and to Little Poland, to keep it as a special treat only when I visit up north. Bigos, you complete me.

For anybody who wants to take a crack at it, here is an example of a simpler recipe for bigos. Good luck!

Bigos (a.k.a. Hunter's Stew)

1/2 pound of bacon
1 pound lean pork or wild boar meat
1 large onion
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 cups cooked dried Borowik wild mushrooms (Boletus)
2 apples, cored and cut into chunks
2 or 3 prunes, cut up into pieces
2 root vegetables (swede, turnip, or carrot), cut into chunks
1 pound smoked sausages (Kielbasa), cut into small chunks
1 can of plum tomatoes
1/2 pound of sauerkraut (pickled cabbage)
1/2 cup of red wine
1/2 cup of stock (vegetable or meat)
A few Allspice Berries
Salt and pepper

1). Chop the bacon into ¼ inch pieces, cook until crisp, remove from the fat, and set aside.

2). Cut the pork or wild boar meat into small cubes, add to the fat in the pan, and brown the meat lightly.

3). Mix in the onion and cook it until it is tender. Cover the meat with hot water and simmer, covered, until it is well done.

4). Add the garlic, apples, prunes, Borowik mushrooms, vegetables, and tomatoes and continue cooking for about 5-10 minutes.

5). Combine the sauerkraut with the meat along with sausages and the reserved bacon. Add the red wine and stock. Mix these ingredients together and season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook, uncovered, until the sauerkraut is tender and the bigos is of the consistency you prefer. Serve with crusty white bread or if you prefer traditional Polish bread.