So I guess since this blog is titled “The Only Polish Girl in Texas” I should probably give some back story on that. I don’t ever remember a time during the holidays when I was young that my Grandma didn’t come to stay with us. We would always make pierogi, although at that time I was only in charge of using the fork to close them. I didn’t eat them when I was a kid, but I was extremely picky and missed out on years and years of the buttery deliciousness. Kolacky would always be a part of the Christmas cookies we made, and it wasn’t Easter without Polish sausage from Misch Bros. I can remember my Grandma being on the phone with my Great Aunt talking in Polish, and the more excited or upset she would become the louder and faster she talked. Almost until she was out of breath. When I was in maybe 6 th grade, I had a “boyfriend” (things were different back then) and one of the first things I was asked was what’s his last name. I wa...
I know, I know. I'm not the only Polish girl in Texas, but it sure feels that way. Where are the pierogis? Why do I get looked at funny in HEB when I ask for Polish sausage? And really, a kolache is not the same as a kolacky. This blog is not only about me missing the food I grew up on, but (still) adjusting to TX, becoming a chemical free home, and my obsession with all things Sephora. Welcome!