Three years since Babcia died. February 8th, 2021.
I went to Holy Cross Cemetery at dawn. The earliest I've ever gone. The sun was just coming up — February sunrise in Milwaukee, pale gold through bare trees, the cemetery still and cold and sacred. I brought pierogi. As always. Potato and cheese, warm in foil. The offering that never changes because it doesn't need to.
"Three years, Babcia. A hundred thousand reads on the internet about your hands. Ninety thousand people following your grandson on a phone app you would have refused to learn. A literary agent wants me to write a book about you. A book. You couldn't get me to read a book when I was fifteen and now someone wants me to write one."
I sat on the frozen ground and ate a pierogi. The cold made the dough firmer, the filling denser. It was still good. Pierogi are always good. That's the miracle of them — they work in every temperature, every setting, every emotional state. They are the most resilient food I know. Like the woman who taught me to make them.
"I'm going to open the shop, Babcia. This year. I'm going to start looking at storefronts. The money is almost there. The recipes are ready. The platform is built. The only thing left is the courage, and I think I have it. I think you gave it to me, along with the recipe cards and the rubber band and the hands."
The wind blew. The sun rose higher. The cemetery glowed.
"I love you. I miss you. I hear you humming."
I went to the brewery and brewed a batch of Helen's Wheat. The spring beer. The first one. The one named for her. It felt right — brewing her beer on her anniversary, the annual proof that she's still alive in everything I make.
Replied to the literary agent. "I'm interested," I wrote. "But the story isn't finished yet. Can we talk when it is?" She wrote back: "I'll wait. Stories like yours are worth waiting for." Two people waiting now — the cookbook publisher and the literary agent. Both waiting for the story to finish. Both waiting for Helen's.
Everyone is waiting for Helen's. Including me. The waiting is almost over.
The pierogi I brought to Holy Cross were always the centerpiece—but at every table Babcia ever set, kielbasa was beside them. Same pantry, same hands, same insistence that smoked meat and good vinegar together could solve most problems. After leaving the cemetery that morning, after brewing Helen’s Wheat and writing back to the agent, I wanted something from that world but easier, lighter—something that felt like her kitchen in the summer when the windows were open. This kielbasa salad is that. It keeps her close without requiring the whole afternoon she would have gladly given it.
Kielbasa Summer Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 lb kielbasa (smoked Polish sausage), sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
- 3 cups shredded green cabbage
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
- 1 medium red bell pepper, diced
- 2 tablespoons whole-grain mustard
- 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds (optional but traditional)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
Instructions
- Sear the kielbasa. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add kielbasa slices in a single layer and cook 3–4 minutes per side until edges are browned and lightly caramelized. Remove from heat and set aside to cool slightly.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the whole-grain mustard, apple cider vinegar, olive oil, honey, caraway seeds if using, and a pinch of salt and pepper until fully combined.
- Build the salad base. In a large mixing bowl, combine the shredded cabbage, cherry tomatoes, red onion, and bell pepper. Toss to distribute evenly.
- Combine and dress. Add the warm kielbasa slices to the vegetable mixture. Pour the dressing over everything and toss well, making sure the cabbage wilts slightly from the heat of the sausage.
- Rest and finish. Let the salad sit for 5 minutes so the flavors come together. Taste and adjust seasoning. Scatter fresh parsley over the top before serving.
- Serve. Serve warm or at room temperature. This salad holds well for up to 2 days refrigerated—the flavors deepen overnight.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 335 | Protein: 13g | Fat: 26g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 820mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 255 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.