Babcia rallied this week. That's what the aide called it — a rally. She woke up Tuesday morning and asked for breakfast. Real breakfast. Eggs and toast and tea. She ate all of it. She got in her wheelchair and rolled herself to the kitchen. She asked me to bring her flour.
I brought flour. And eggs. And butter. And she sat at the kitchen table and, with hands that shook like leaves in wind, she made pierogi filling. Not dough — her hands couldn't handle the kneading. Just the filling. Potato and cheese. The way she's made it ten thousand times. She directed me on the dough and the assembly, and together we made thirty-two pierogi on a Tuesday afternoon in January while the radiator clanked and the light came through the kitchen window.
She hummed the whole time. The hymn. Our hymn. And her hands, shaking as they were, moved through the filling with a muscle memory that arthritis and age couldn't erase. She knew the recipe not in her mind but in her body. It lived in her fingers.
We fried eight of them in butter and ate them together at the table. They were perfect. Not almost right. Perfect. Because she made the filling and I made the dough and together we were one complete Babcia.
She said, "This is good, Jakub. We make a good team." We do, Babcia. We really do.
The rally lasted three days. By Friday she was tired again, back in the chair, sleeping more. But those three days — Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday — were a gift. She was sharp, funny, present. She told me stories about Dziadek Stefan I'd never heard: how he proposed with a loaf of bread instead of a ring ("bread lasts longer," he said), how he cried when their daughter — my mother — was born, how he used to sing to the tomato plants in the garden because he believed they grew better with music.
I wrote everything down. Every story. Every detail. I'm not losing these.
Sunday dinner: I cooked, she watched, she hummed. The rally was fading but the hum was strong. On a good day, the hum fills the whole kitchen. On that Sunday, it did.
Those thirty-two pierogi taught me something I already knew but needed to feel again: there is something sacred about filled dough, about the moment you fold one edge over another and press it shut, sealing something good inside. When I want to carry that feeling into a weeknight dinner without a full afternoon of assembly, I turn to this Tortellini Caprese Pasta Salad — cheese-filled pasta right out of the bag, tossed with the bright, simple flavors Babcia would approve of. It isn’t pierogi, but every bite of stuffed pasta at our table still feels a little like a Tuesday afternoon in January, the radiator clanking, the light coming through the window.
Tortellini Caprese Pasta Salad
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 20 oz refrigerated cheese tortellini
- 2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved
- 8 oz fresh mozzarella, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
- 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
- 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 3 tablespoons balsamic glaze
- 1 clove garlic, finely minced
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Instructions
- Cook the tortellini. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the cheese tortellini according to package directions until tender, about 7–9 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop cooking and cool the pasta completely.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, balsamic glaze, minced garlic, salt, and black pepper until combined.
- Combine the salad. Transfer the cooled tortellini to a large serving bowl. Add the halved cherry tomatoes and mozzarella cubes. Pour the dressing over the top and toss gently to coat everything evenly.
- Finish with basil. Scatter the torn fresh basil over the salad and fold it in lightly so the leaves stay whole. Add crushed red pepper flakes if using.
- Rest and serve. Let the salad sit for 5 minutes so the tortellini absorbs the dressing. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 96 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.