Hawaiian Kielbasa Sandwiches — The Sausage That Brought Me Back to the Beginning

One year and two weeks. The five-year writing anniversary. Five years. Two hundred and sixty-one weeks. That's how long I've been writing this — sitting at the kitchen table, recording the weather and the food and the lake and the life. Five years ago I was fifty-three and I couldn't sleep and I wrote about korv on a March night and I didn't know that anyone would read it and I didn't know that the man sleeping in the next room would be diagnosed with a terminal illness and I didn't know that the dog at my feet would outlive the man and I didn't know any of it. I just wrote. I walked to the lakefront on Saturday morning. The spot — the spot where Paul and I used to walk, the spot where Paul sat in the wheelchair and looked at the ships, the spot where Elsa and I stood at the anniversary. I stood there and I looked at the lake and I talked to Paul. I said: "The lake is still there, Paul. I am still here. The bread bakes every Saturday. The meatballs are perfect. Sophie is a nurse. Peter is sober and dating a woman named Janet who sounds lovely. Elsa is at Jay Cooke. Anna is teaching. Your grandchildren are growing. The church is still standing. The Damiano Center is open. Gerald says the soup is good." I said: "I miss you. Every day. I miss the ships you named and the books you read and the voice that told me things I didn't know I needed to hear. I miss the toast at julbord and the Fitzgerald lecture and the black tie and the reading at bedtime and the hand that held mine and the 'another year, Linda' at midnight." I said: "I'm okay, Paul. I'm more than okay. I'm cooking. I'm baking. I'm gardening. I'm at church. I'm at the Damiano Center. I'm reading. I'm alive." I said: "Tack." The lake didn't respond. The lake never responds. The lake is enormous and indifferent and permanent and that's the comfort — the lake doesn't need to respond. The lake is just there. The being-there is the response. I went home and I made korv. The first recipe. The potato sausage. Five years of writing, beginning and ending with korv. Fried in butter. Edges crisp. Served with mustard and rye bread. I ate at the table. Two places. One plate. One empty plate. Five years. The korv is the same. The woman is different. The kitchen is the same. The chair across from me is empty. The lake is still here. I'm still here. Year six begins.

I made korv that morning — the potato sausage, the first recipe, fried in butter exactly the way it always was — and I ate it alone at the table with the empty plate across from me, and it was right. But the recipe I want to leave you with is this one: Hawaiian Kielbasa Sandwiches, which I first made on a Tuesday when Elsa came for dinner and I needed something fast and warm and a little unexpected, something that made her laugh. Paul would have liked the pineapple. He would have been skeptical first, then pleased. Sausage is sausage, and sausage has always been where this kitchen starts.

Hawaiian Kielbasa Sandwiches

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 lb kielbasa sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
• 1 can (20 oz) pineapple chunks, drained, juice reserved
• 1 green bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 medium yellow onion, sliced into half-rings
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon reserved pineapple juice
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon butter or neutral oil
• 4 hoagie rolls or sturdy sandwich buns, split and toasted
• Yellow mustard or spicy brown mustard, for serving (optional)

Instructions

1. Make the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, brown sugar, reserved pineapple juice, and garlic powder. Set aside.
2. Brown the kielbasa. Heat butter or oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add kielbasa slices in a single layer and cook 3–4 minutes per side until edges are deeply browned and slightly crisp. Transfer to a plate.
3. Sauté the vegetables. In the same skillet, add the onion and bell peppers. Cook over medium heat for 5–6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened and beginning to caramelize at the edges.
4. Add pineapple and glaze. Return the kielbasa to the skillet. Add the pineapple chunks and pour the glaze over everything. Stir to coat and cook for 3–4 minutes more, until the sauce thickens slightly and clings to the sausage and vegetables.
5. Toast the rolls. While the filling finishes, toast the split hoagie rolls cut-side down in a dry skillet or under the broiler for 1–2 minutes, until golden.
6. Assemble and serve. Spoon the kielbasa mixture generously onto the toasted rolls. Add a line of mustard if you like. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 490 | Protein: 19g | Fat: 26g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 1080mg