Noodles and Kraut

I got married on Saturday, June 19th, 2021, at St. Linus Church in Oak Lawn. It rained. Babcia Rose said rain on a wedding day is good luck, which she said with the confidence of someone who considers all weather on all important occasions to be confirmation of what she already believed, and I have decided she is correct and will be telling this story that way forever.

Patty organized everything with the precision of a school secretary managing the most important fire drill of her career. Steve cried at the altar when I appeared — one tear, controlled, acknowledged by no one except me, which is the Kowalczyk version of weeping — and the one tear meant more to me than a full sob from anyone else ever could. Kristin flew in from Wicker Park, which is not flying but is the kind of effort she makes look small. Matt was Ryan groomsman and they both stood up there in their suits looking like the kind of men you want standing next to you when things matter.

Babcia Rose was at the reception and made pierogi and also the secret something, which was a batch of gołąbki that she had brought in a covered pot in the back of Steve car without telling anyone, enough for thirty people. She sat at the head of the VFW table with her good earrings and watched the whole room and she looked like someone who had been waiting a long time to see this particular picture assembled. I walked over to her between courses and said Babcia Rose and she looked at me in my dress and said "about time." I told her I wore Patty veil. She nodded once, like she had known that would happen and approved. I kissed her cheek. She smelled like pierogi and lilac and eighty-seven years of Sunday cooking.

Ryan and I drove to our honeymoon hotel late that night, just us, and I ate the leftover potato pancakes cold from the container we had brought, in my wedding dress, in the car, and they were perfect. He said I cannot believe you are eating potato pancakes in your wedding dress. I said I made twelve dozen and I am going to eat every one of them. He said he would not change a single thing. Neither would I. Neither would I.

The food at that reception — the pierogi, the go&lstro;bki, the potato pancakes eaten cold in a wedding dress at midnight — was the kind of cooking that doesn’t come from a caterer, it comes from a family. Noodles and Kraut is that same kind of dish: humble, honest, and so deeply tied to the Polish kitchen that making it feels less like cooking and more like remembering. If Babcia Rose had a spare pot and thirty extra minutes, this would have been in it too, right next to everything else she carried in the back of that car without telling anyone.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

12 oz wide egg noodles
2 cups sauerkraut, drained and rinsed
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
4 strips thick-cut bacon, chopped (optional but traditional)
1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt, plus more for pasta water
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook egg noodles according to package directions until just tender. Drain and set aside, tossing with 1 tablespoon of butter to prevent sticking.
Render the bacon. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until crisp, about 6–8 minutes. Transfer bacon to a paper-towel-lined plate and leave about 1 tablespoon of drippings in the pan. If skipping bacon, melt 1 tablespoon butter in its place.
Caramelize the onion. Add the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter to the skillet over medium-low heat. Add the sliced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until deeply golden and softened, about 12–15 minutes. Don’t rush this step — the sweetness of the onion balances the kraut.
Add the sauerkraut. Stir the drained sauerkraut and caraway seeds into the skillet with the onion. Cook together for 4–5 minutes, letting the kraut warm through and pick up the buttery pan flavor. Season with salt and pepper.
Combine everything. Add the cooked noodles to the skillet and toss to combine, making sure the noodles are evenly coated with the butter, onion, and kraut. Fold in the reserved bacon.
Serve. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with fresh parsley. Serve hot as a side dish alongside kielbasa, golabki, or pork chops — or eat it straight from the pan, which is also correct.

Nutrition (per serving)

Noodles and Kraut — The Dish That Tastes Like Every Polish Kitchen I’ve Ever Loved