Deep winter. Minus eight on Tuesday. The Jeep struggled to start. The apartment radiator clanked like a percussion instrument. Milwaukee in January is a test of character, and character is measured in layers of flannel.
I've been using the winter to write. The Polish food series needs Parts 3 and 4 before I can move on. Part 3 — "The Grandmothers: Carriers of the Flame" — is the one closest to my heart. It's about the women like Babcia and Mrs. Wojcik and Mrs. Grabowski who held the recipes through the decades when the children were assimilating, when the grandchildren were eating McDonald's, when the old neighborhood was changing. They held on. They kept making pierogi when nobody asked them to. They kept the kitchens open.
I interviewed seven women for Part 3. Seven grandmothers, ages seventy-one to eighty-nine, all from the south side, all Polish-American, all with recipe cards and stories. Each interview was three to four hours. Each one left me wrecked — in the best way, the way that good stories wreck you, by cracking you open and showing you what's inside.
Mrs. Grabowski — the one who told me I have "the hands" — told me about making pierogi for five hundred people at the St. Josaphat festival in 1972. "We started Monday," she said. "Five women. By Friday, we had made twelve thousand pierogi. Our hands were bleeding. We didn't stop." Twelve thousand pierogi. Bleeding hands. They didn't stop. That's the Part 3 thesis: they didn't stop.
At the brewery, winter production continues. Babcia's Kitchen is the star of the cold season. Marcus and I are planning spring: Helen's Wheat returns in April, Bay View Bloom in May, and a new beer I'm developing — a Polish pilsner with Saaz hops and a touch of rye. I'm calling it Kinnickinnic, after the avenue that runs through Bay View. The avenue where Helen's will someday live.
Made comfort food all week: rosó┼é on Monday (for Mrs. Wojcik's delivery), pierogi on Wednesday (for the building), bread on Friday (for everyone). The rhythm of winter cooking is my heartbeat now: make, deliver, repeat. Make, deliver, repeat.
The grandmothers I interviewed for Part 3 never needed a reason to bake—they baked because it was Tuesday, because the freezer was low, because someone on the block had a bad week. That lesson settled into me somewhere around Wednesday of this particular January, and by Friday I was pulling a braided wreath bread out of the oven without quite knowing when I’d decided to. It felt right for the rhythm: rosół on Monday, pierogi on Wednesday, bread on Friday—make, deliver, repeat. The wreath shape, round and unbroken, seemed to say something true about what those seven women had been doing all along.
Braided Wreath Bread
Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 2 hr 15 min (includes rise time) | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
- 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 standard packet)
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 3/4 cup warm whole milk (110°F)
- 1/4 cup warm water (110°F)
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
- 1 large egg, room temperature
- 1 egg yolk + 1 tablespoon milk (for egg wash)
- 1 tablespoon sesame seeds or poppy seeds (optional, for topping)
Instructions
- Activate yeast. Combine warm water, warm milk, and sugar in a large bowl. Sprinkle yeast over the top and let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy.
- Mix dough. Add the egg, softened butter, and salt to the yeast mixture and stir to combine. Add flour one cup at a time, mixing until a shaggy dough forms.
- Knead. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8–10 minutes until smooth and elastic. The dough should spring back when poked.
- First rise. Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a clean kitchen towel, and let rise in a warm spot for 1 hour or until doubled in size.
- Divide and braid. Punch down the dough and divide into three equal pieces. Roll each piece into a rope about 24 inches long. Braid the three ropes together, then bring the ends together to form a wreath and pinch firmly to seal.
- Second rise. Transfer the wreath to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Cover loosely and let rise 30 minutes while you preheat the oven to 375°F.
- Egg wash and bake. Whisk together the egg yolk and 1 tablespoon milk. Brush evenly over the wreath. Sprinkle with sesame or poppy seeds if using. Bake 22–26 minutes until deep golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom.
- Cool. Let rest on a wire rack at least 15 minutes before slicing. Best the day it’s made, but wraps well for delivery.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 251 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.