I might put up a good front, smiling and acting like all is well and I’m all happy when facing other people. But the truth is, my inner self is battered and bruised. Ever since last week’s failed attempt to make pierogi, my inner self has been a constant prickly mess. If you want me to describe what my inner heart felt like over the past week or so, it would be something like this:
The thing is, when I usually decide to cook / bake something, it means I have also decided that I want to eat that. When I failed baking pandan layer cake, I would go to Bread History and buy a ready made one. When I screwed up my shepherd’s pie, I would make a trip to Starbucks and have their’s instead. But when I failed making pierogi… there’s no bloody place that I can go to buy a ready made version in Malaysia!
WANT.TO.EAT.PIEROGI!!! MUST.EAT.PIEROGI!!! ARHHHHH!!!!!
Remember I was playing semi tour guide in a previous post? My guest saw my regret, and made a deal with me…
“I’m tired of the oily street food. Tell you what, you make me soup for dinner, I’ll make you pierogi.”
“Done, done and done!”
Hence the ABC Soup…
She is leaving Penang in an evening flight later. So this morning, she checked out of hostel, and I picked her up. After breakfast, we came back to my place.
The first thing she did was to check the dough that I had made previously (I saved half of it in the fridge because I made too much).
“This is rubbish. You used too much flour, it’s not elastic enough, that’s why they break apart easily. And why did you add milk into the dough? That’s not authentic pierogi dough!”
She placed that rubbish dough back into the fridge and proceeded to make a new dough.
- 500g flour
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 3 eggs (the eggs are so tiny here, 2 is not enough)
- a bit of water if the dough seems too dry (no milk! That’s British recipe, it’s not authentic!)
- mashed potato mixed with some butter and cheese as filling (make sure you mash it properly, no lumps allowed, it has to be smooth)
Basically, the procedure that I used previously was correct. Knead the dough until it is evenly mixed, and firm yet not sticky. Apparently my definition of firm is different from her’s.
While she was making the dough, she went on to tell me that it is rare for people to make fruit pierogi, only the super experienced and skillful cook (or quoting her words: someone like my mom) can pull it off without trouble. To make fruit pierogi, the dough needs to be perfect, because the fruit filling is in small pieces instead of a lump. When boiling, the filling will bounce around and make the dough break more easily.
In other words, for a lazy man to make fruit pierogi is like for a kindergarten baby boy trying to solve a university mathematics equation. It is doomed to fail.
Instead of using a glass to cut round shaped dough pieces, she just cut up the rolled out dough into pieces, each in different and uneven shapes.
“Who cares what the shape will be? It just needs to be cooked properly and delicious. It will end up in our stomach soon anyway.”
I did not have onions in my disposal, so instead, we made some crispy bacon bits and sprinkled them on together with the bacon oil.
After taking my first bite, my inner child turned into this instead:
Oh yes! Oh, yes yes yes!!
And yes, the pierogi is soooo delicious! The skin is slightly thicker than shui gao 水饺 or a gyoza, so it is slightly more chewy, together with the creamy fluffy mashed potato in the middle, awesome! Or should I say, smaczne!
I’m a happy man today 😀