Sweet-and-Sour Sausage

I married Megan O'Brien on a Saturday in June at St. Josaphat Basilica.

The morning was a blur. I got dressed at Tom and Linda's house — my suit, the watch Megan gave me, the cufflinks with P and 8, the ring with D and 8 engraved inside. Tom helped me with my tie. His hands were steady. Mine were not. He straightened the knot and looked at me and said nothing and everything at the same time. Linda cried before we left the house. She did not stop crying until Sunday.

St. Josaphat. The basilica where I was baptized, confirmed, where I attended Mass every Sunday with Babcia, where Babcia's funeral was held. The dome arched above us like a held breath. The pews were full — 180 people, Polish on the left, Irish on the right, a few brave souls in the middle. Father Jankowski stood at the altar. I stood at the altar. The organ began.

Megan walked down the aisle on Patrick's arm. I saw the dress for the first time. White. Simple. Perfect. Her red hair was down. She was crying and smiling and walking toward me and the church was silent except for the organ and I forgot how to breathe.

She reached me. Patrick placed her hand in mine. She looked at me and said — not in the vows, just to me, whispered — "Hey, pierogi guy." I said, "Hey, nacho girl." Father Jankowski pretended not to hear.

The vows. The rings. The "I do" that I said with my whole body, my whole life, my whole history. She said it back. We kissed. 180 people cheered. Linda sobbed. Tom wiped his eyes once — the only time I have ever seen Tom wipe his eyes. Patrick shook his fist in the air like we'd scored a touchdown. Babcia was there. In the church. In the dome. In the light coming through the windows. She was there.

The reception at the Polish Center. Six thousand pierogi, served hot, three fillings. The Dwa Narody beer at every table. Tom danced the polka with Megan and stepped on her feet twice. Linda danced with me and whispered, "She's perfect." Patrick danced with nobody because firefighters don't dance, but he clapped and he laughed and he drank Jameson and he was happy.

My toast was four sentences. "Megan, you walked into my life eating nachos with a fork and I haven't been the same since. You taught me that love is not about being impressive — it's about being present. Every meal I make for the rest of my life will be made for you. I'm the luckiest guy in Milwaukee." Standing ovation. 180 slightly drunk Polish and Irish Catholics on their feet. Megan threw a napkin at me. Some things never change. Thank God.

We had six thousand pierogi at the reception and I would eat every single one of them again without hesitation — but on a Tuesday night in our apartment, with Megan across the table and no polka band in sight, I reach for something a little easier to pull off than a six-thousand-unit operation. This sweet-and-sour sausage has everything I love about Polish Center cooking: the smoky meat, the tangy-sweet sauce, the kind of smell that fills a room and makes people feel like they’re somewhere they belong. I make it for Megan at least once a month now. It’s not a wedding, but it’s ours.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs smoked kielbasa or Polish sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
1 medium yellow onion, sliced into half-moons
1 green bell pepper, sliced
1 red bell pepper, sliced
1 can (20 oz) pineapple chunks in juice, drained (juice reserved)
1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
Cooked white rice or egg noodles, for serving

Instructions

Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the reserved pineapple juice, brown sugar, apple cider vinegar, soy sauce, cornstarch, and garlic powder until the cornstarch is fully dissolved. Set aside.
Brown the sausage. Heat vegetable oil in a large skillet or cast-iron pan over medium-high heat. Add the sausage rounds in a single layer and cook 2–3 minutes per side until golden brown. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Sauté the vegetables. In the same skillet, add the sliced onion and both bell peppers. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for 5–6 minutes until softened and beginning to caramelize at the edges. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
Add pineapple. Stir the drained pineapple chunks into the skillet with the vegetables and cook for 2 minutes, allowing the pineapple to warm through and pick up a little color.
Return the sausage and add sauce. Nestle the browned sausage back into the skillet. Pour the sauce over everything and stir gently to coat. Bring to a simmer over medium heat.
Simmer until thickened. Cook for 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened and everything is glazed and bubbling. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
Serve. Spoon generously over steamed white rice or buttered egg noodles and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sweet-and-Sour Sausage — The Polish Center Reception on a Weeknight Plate