Kasha Varnishkes

Brianna's week. The Tigers report to spring training next month. The conversation in every break room turns to baseball. Worked four shifts this week at the plant. The line ran clean.

Pop's in the recliner. Tigers on. Sugar in range this week. Sunday at Mama's. She made greens with hambone the way she has since 1985.

Baked mac and cheese this week. Three cheeses — sharp cheddar, Monterey Jack, a little Gruyere because I am fancy now. Topped with crumbs.

Aiden's 9. He's all elbows and questions. Asked me Wednesday why bread has holes. Zaria's 7. Helps me cook on a step stool. Has opinions about the seasoning.

I drove home Sunday past the plant. The plant lights were on. The line was running. The line is always running.

A song came on the radio Tuesday — old Stevie Wonder — and I had to sit in the truck for the rest of it before I went into the store. Some songs do that. Detroit is a city of songs that do that.

I read for an hour Sunday night. A book about the auto industry. Half memoir, half history. Made me think about Pop and the line and the fragile contract that built the middle of this country. I underlined the parts that hit.

Stopped at Eastern Market Saturday. Got chicken thighs, bacon, a watermelon, and a pound of greens that I did not need but bought anyway. The vendors know me by name now. Three of them asked about the family.

I cleaned the smoker Sunday morning. Brushed the grates. Emptied the ash. Wiped down the body. The smoker repays attention. So does most everything that matters.

The basketball court at the rec center got refurbished. New floor. Plays different. Bouncy. I shot a few from the elbow before practice Wednesday. The knee held. The shot fell short.

A reader wrote in about the smothered pork chops. Said her late husband loved them. I wrote back. I told her about Pop. We exchanged three emails. She's in Saginaw. She's coming to the city in the spring.

Filled the propane tank Wednesday. The smoker is the only appliance I baby. Wiped it down. Checked the gaskets. Checked the temperature gauge. The smoker is mine the way Pop's torque wrench was his.

Truck needed an oil change Saturday. Did it myself in the driveway. Took an hour. The neighbor across the street gave me a thumbs-up from his porch. I gave him one back. Detroit men do not waste words on car maintenance.

I made grocery lists on the back of envelopes the way Mama did. The list this week was short — onions, garlic, half-and-half, cornmeal, a pound of bacon. The list is the recipe of the week before it happens.

A neighbor down the street gave me a tomato plant Saturday. He grows them on his porch. Said he had extra. I put it next to the back step where it gets the afternoon sun. Detroit gardens are improvised victories.

The block had a small drama Tuesday. Somebody parked in front of Ms. Diane's driveway. Ms. Diane addressed it directly. The car moved within the hour. The neighborhood polices itself on small things.

The grass came in fast this week. Cut it Saturday morning before the heat. The mower had been sitting all winter. Took three pulls to start. Once it ran, it ran. Some things just need patience.

Mama left me a voicemail Wednesday. She said, "DeShawn. Don't forget Sunday." I had not forgotten Sunday. I have not forgotten Sunday in twenty years. The reminder is the love. I called her back.

Zaria was on the step stool asking about the onions — why do they go in first, why do they smell different when they cook — and I thought about how the best food always comes with questions. Kasha Varnishkes is that kind of dish: nothing fancy, nothing hidden, just buckwheat and bow-ties and onions doing exactly what they’re supposed to do. Pop wouldn’t call it soul food, but he’d eat two bowls and not say a word, and that’s the same thing.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 cup whole kasha (buckwheat groats)
1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
2 cups bow-tie pasta (farfalle)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter or schmaltz
1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon vegetable oil

Instructions

Toast the kasha. In a dry medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the kasha and beaten egg, stirring constantly for 2–3 minutes until each grain is coated and dry, and the mixture smells nutty.
Cook the kasha. Pour in the broth, add 1/2 teaspoon salt, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and cook for 12–15 minutes until liquid is absorbed and groats are tender. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes.
Cook the pasta. While the kasha cooks, boil the bow-tie pasta in salted water according to package directions until al dente. Drain and set aside.
Caramelize the onions. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter with the oil. Add the sliced onion and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 15–18 minutes until deeply golden and soft.
Combine. Add the cooked kasha and drained pasta to the skillet with the onions. Toss gently to combine. Season with black pepper and additional salt to taste.
Serve. Transfer to a serving dish. Best eaten warm, straight from the pan, with someone standing at the stove asking questions.

Nutrition (per serving)

Kasha Varnishkes — Comfort Food Is Comfort Food, No Matter Where You Learned It