Over the Christmas break, I finally had some time to spend with my grandma. I don’t spend as much time with her as I’d like to. My grandma is one of my very favourite people and we are quite close. She was chief babysitter for my siblings and I, we spent a large chunk of our time at her house- it was definitely our second home. One of our favourite things to do was to make “messes” in grandma’s kitchen. We would each wear the aprons grandma made for us, and she would let us add any ingredient we wanted to our bowls, and then we’d bake it. And I mean any ingredient- picture: coffee grounds, juice crystals, flour, salt, eggs, powdered milk, sprinkles, baking soda, sugar, crushed crackers, and baking powder, and any quantity of each. This would lead to funny-coloured miniature cakes that we then proceeded to foist upon our loving father, who suffered through many concoctions all the while telling his beaming children that they were delicious.
I still cook with this air of throwing things together much as I did then, whether this is due to my impatient nature or experience in grandma’s kitchen, I do not know. I can’t be bothered to measure ingredients, nor to follow a recipe. If I have something in mind I’ll turn to Pinterest, look at a couple recipes, and use pieces of each one to come up with my final dish. Have no fear, I don’t bake- too much preciseness is needed. I love to make casseroles, soups, and saucy dishes where give and take is totally acceptable.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard grandma talk about homemade cottage cheese perogies, called Wereneki(ver-REN-e-kah). Grandma comes from a Mennonite family and is fluent in Low German. She would make them, but since the kids didn’t like cottage cheese, we never tried them and she cooked store-bought perogies for us. Even though I never tried them, I was always curious.
Another way grandma kept us occupied at her house was by telling us stories from when she and grandpa were young or when they were our age; one grandma told us was about grandpa’s Aunt. She lived in her own home, at 104, the only concession to her age was having home care come in and lend a hand. When the home care lady stopped in one day, she asked Auntie what she’d had for dinner. Auntie replied that she’d had perogies. The home care lady asked where she’d bought them as she wasn’t satisfied with the ones she’d bought. Auntie scoffed at her and said that she didn’t buy them, she’d made them. So at 104 years old, Auntie had made perogies for her dinner and cleaned up after- all of which is no small chore. Grandpa’s family was English, but even they made homemade perogies.
I’d mentioned to my mom about how much I’d love to learn to make them. Now that I’m old enough to appreciate history and tradition, I wanted to spend more time with Grandma as I love learning from her. My grandma is now 87. She fell and broke her hip this past summer so she walks with a cane, she no longer lives in her farmhouse but lives in a granny suite built for her, attached to my mom’s house. She can’t see hardly anything and doesn’t drive herself. She has recently taken up knitting, which she hadn’t done in many years, claiming she can knit without having to see. She can’t read recipes anymore since the printing is notoriously small, so I knew she would appreciate the help and the lesson.
So one afternoon, mom had picked up the cottage cheese we needed from the city, and I came over to spend time, once again, in grandma’s kitchen. Once we’d mixed the filling and the ingredients for the dough could no longer be stirred with a spoon, it was time to get my hands dirty. As I began kneading the dough, grandma, mom, and I realized that I was already covered with flour and that there was going to be more flour involved. Grandma suggested an apron and went to the closet to get one. Mom went to her house and retrieved the one grandma had made for me more than a decade ago. The apron grandma came out with was her mother’s apron, my great-grandma Heppner’s. It was the classic blue gingham embroidered with flowers. She explained that even her brother wore it for many years to carve turkey for her family’s Christmas and Thanksgiving. I put it on, and when mom returned, she wore my apron since we were now working together. I was stretching and filling the dough circles and mom was rolling the dough and cutting circles.
The ones I made were a little misshapen but I’m sure that will improve with practice.
Traditionally, Wareneki are boiled and then served with farmer sausage and cream gravy. Once they were done we let them rest for a while and then threw them in the pot of boiling water. For the cream gravy, grandma soured some cream, we added black pepper, salt, and cooked it in a frying pan until it had thickened. Mom fried the farmer sausage, cooked some veggies, and we were done.
Before this, I hadn’t actually tried cottage cheese perogies because I don’t like cottage cheese. After spending all afternoon making them, the anticipation was too high so I couldn’t resist trying them. They were delicious! Now we’re planning a perogy making day for February break when we’re all home. My siblings are relatively picky eaters so we’ll also have other fillings besides the cottage cheese; this way we can spend time together and they can also learn.
I’m thinking I’ll make perogies quite often now that I know how- they aren’t too difficult and once you know how they really don’t take that much time. Some of the best perogies I’ve tried were filled with Saskatoon berries, so I’m excited to try some of those!
Another thing grandma made with the dry cottage cheese were cottage cheese pancakes called Glums Koki. You add eggs, flour, salt and pepper to make a batter and then fry until golden on both sides. Grandma eats hers with cracked black pepper on top, I prefer them with syrup and grandma thinks I’m a crazy person. I took home some leftover cottage cheese and gladly had these for supper the next day. Here’s the recipe:
Glums Koki
- 12oz dry cottage cheese
- 4 eggs
- 1/2 C flour
- Salt and Pepper
- Combine all ingredients, drop by spoonful into a hot frying pan with butter, fry until golden.
I know a fair bit about the history and traditions on my dad’s Swedish side, but not so many from my mom’s German side. This was one of my most favourite afternoons.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
Sight Unseen 