9/24/09 - 9/26/09One disappointment I have to mention, though. As soon as we arrived I pulled Ben into a milk bar (remnant of Communist Poland where they would have really cheap food for the workers) and ordered pierogies. Now, anyone who knows me knows just how obsessed I am about pierogies. When they came out, they were covered in a strange white sauce. I should've been suspicious, but I 
eagerly took a bite...only to practically spit it out. It was AWFUL!! It was some weird sweet pierogi filled with nasty condensed milk or something...I couldn't stomach it. I had my hopes up so high that all the pierogies in Poland would be amazing.
I gave them two more tries throughout the trip (and since learned that "ruskie" meant potato and cheese, the kind I was looking for) but they didn't get too much better. (One place advertized "potatoes fried with onions" but instead I got boiled pierogies with French-fried onions...not quite the same.)
eagerly took a bite...only to practically spit it out. It was AWFUL!! It was some weird sweet pierogi filled with nasty condensed milk or something...I couldn't stomach it. I had my hopes up so high that all the pierogies in Poland would be amazing.I gave them two more tries throughout the trip (and since learned that "ruskie" meant potato and cheese, the kind I was looking for) but they didn't get too much better. (One place advertized "potatoes fried with onions" but instead I got boiled pierogies with French-fried onions...not quite the same.)
Ben didn't mess with the pierogies and stuck with KFC.
In a conversation with a Polish college student on the bus (he was wearing a Pittsburgh shirt because he studied at State College for a semester!) I got the best piece of advice - I told him about my food experiences, and he said "well, you should have known that no one would make pierogies as good as your grandma!"
So true.
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