I was looking at old notes, and I realized it was precisely in the fall of four years ago that my contact with the food of Poland happened. I thought it would be fun to go back to the first posts I published and share some of those first impressions. After four years, I am aware I am still just scratching the surface.
I was looking at old notes, and I realized it was precisely in the fall of four years ago that my contact with the food of Poland happened. Curiosity would then become a more formalized project supported by a grant, funding, and the collaboration of awesome teammates. In these four years I am met amazing people, tasted wonderful food, and discovered a country that I were not familiar with. So I thought it would be fun to go back to the first posts I published on now defunct HuffPost contributors platform, and share some of those first impressions. After four years, I realize I am still just scratching the surface.
September 19, 2016
When I got the invitation to join a culinary tour in Poland, organized by the Adam Mickiewicz Institute and led by local expert Monika Kucia, I accepted immediately. I must admit that my knowledge of Polish cuisine was limited to the few mainstays I had grown used to in the stores and eateries of the East Village and Brooklyn: pierogis, kielbasas, barszcz (often and less intimidatingly spelled borscht). Precisely for this reason, I immediately jumped on the opportunity to visit Warsaw and Lublin, as well as its surrounding province of Lubelskie. I did not really know what to expect. My previous trip to Poland, almost 10 years ago, had been limited to Krakow, where I had paid limited attention to what I was eating and focused instead on monuments, history, the salt mines and the horrors of Auschwitz.
I now realize that, at the time, the present day renaissance of Polish gastronomy was just timidly starting. Now it’s getting stronger and more expansive, although still limited to a relatively small segment of the population. The interest of the general public in food is mainly reflected in the success of the local version of Top Chef, the presence of Starbucks and other chains, as well as the multiplication of generic Italian restaurants and pizzerias, which local anthropologist Mateusz Halawa described to me as “aspirational Western normality” for the middle class.
However, daily foodways of the great majority of the Polish does not appear to have completely changed: great pączki (a pączek is a pastry similar to a donut) are still available at the classic Blikle in Warsaw; when in season, plums are stewed for days into the delicious powidła preserve, as they were before; milk bars, a leftover of socialist times, continue to provide simple dishes and staples at extremely affordable prices. Of course, redesigned and cooler versions of such bars are also opening, although the food is more expensive; they may signal that the younger generations are removed enough from the past that they are ready to reinterpret it and make it theirs.
October 16, 2016
Spirits have traditionally played an important – although fraught and contested – role in Polish culture. Even during the years of the communist regime, all sorts of liquors and alcoholic drinks were made at home, often illegally, with the government focusing on the control of vodka and beer production. Nevertheless, especially in the decades following World War II and the near complete destruction of the country, drinking turned into an urgent social problem. To this day, a certain ambivalence can be detected around alcohol consumption, especially when quantity trumps quality. Today, spirits cover the gamut, from the homemade to the luxury segment. The market for craft beer is expanding, with old local breweries and new young producers improving their manufacturing and building larger distribution networks. In the trendy bars and restaurant of Warsaw it is now common to find intriguing artisanal beers, partly giving new life to old habits, partly reflecting the appeal of Global Brooklyn among the younger urban generations,
Traditional products such as cider and mead are also making a comeback. As Poland produces enormous amounts of honey and apples, the spirits meet the need to find new commercial uses for those goods, following the decrease of exports towards Russia caused by the embargo launched by Putin as a reaction to the EU sanctions after the events in Crimea and Ukraine. Moreover, both cider and mead are relatively easy to produce artisanally – if not domestically – in small batches, despite administrative and regulatory hurdles. The old-style cider is at times called jabłecznik or cydr naturalny (natural cider), frequently unfiltered and unpasteurized. Another spirit that has never lost its appeal, although its distribution seems limited to informal networks of production and exchange, rather than stores, is nalewka, often translated in English as tincture, aged infusions of various ingredients in alcohol. Fruits, berries, herbs, and even spices are commonly used in creating different flavors, reflecting the wealth of foraging traditions that are still alive and well in Poland. When I got the chance to taste a few, the most unexpected were the nalewki based on elderberries, blackthorn, rowan and, maybe the most startling, sea buckthorn, which grows near the Baltic Sea and is particularly rich in vitamin C.
The production of vodka, also boasting long history in the country, has seen the emergence of a few ultra-premium brands, such as Belvedere, Żubrówka, and Chopin (all available on the US market), which produce wheat-, rye- and potato-based vodkas, reinterpreting and updating tradition for the more upscale segments of local and international consumers. The Chopin vodka based on young potatoes, Młody Ziemniak, despite its relatively high cost, is finding growing numbers of appreciative fans.
One of the most intriguing phenomena I observed in my short stay in Poland – and for this reason I cannot draw definite conclusions about it – is the expansion of wine production. Although some wine was historically produced in Lower Silesia, near the Czech border, other areas are emerging. I had the opportunity to visit a brand new winery, Winnica Solaris, that in the past few years has started planting hybrids such as Solero and Johanis, developed specifically to thrive in colder climates. The producer, Maciej Mickiewicz, makes wine as a side activity. He is self-taught and does not employ an oenologist, basing choices on his taste and what he has learned from viticulture manuals. His whites, some of which with potential, are now distributed nationally; the reds are sold very young, usually within a year from the harvest. Although the industry definitely needs to grow in refinement and experience, its commercial accomplishments indicate that Poland is eager to dive into new types of consumption, with alcohol and spirits at the forefront of this transition.
December 12, 2016
Under the guidance of chef Agnieszka Filiks, I learned how to make nettle soup (pokrzywowa zupa), forszmak, a soup with kielbasa, ham, bacon, and pickles, as well as pierogi lubelskie, earthy and delicious pierogis stuffed with buckwheat, fresh cheese, and mint. These specialties are still mostly homemade. As growing numbers of chefs are bringing back dishes like these from regional and countryside cuisines, substantial segments of Polish consumers seem attracted to plain menus dominated by pork chops and fries (often of the frozen kind, despite the great local varieties that are still available), while sticking to bland but affordable products in grocery stores.
This ambiguity points to the evolving dynamics in Polish cuisine. The influence of culinary cosmopolitanism is visible in the long-term effects of two relevant events in 2012. Amaro in Warsaw became the first restaurant to earn a Michelin star in Poland, while a group of world-famous chefs explored Polish food as part of the Cook it Raw initiative. The rediscovery of traditional and often forgotten practices and products, as well as a renewed pride in the skills and know-how of local artisans, is a core component of this new global gastronomic zeitgeist. As the past is investigated to find legitimate roots for this modern renaissance, the topic of kuchnia staropolska (old Polish cuisine) has acquired visibility, at the same time as (although not directly connected to) the rise of conservative and often nationalist movements to power.
The perception and experience of what traditional food is and means varies enormously. Historian Jarosław Dumanowski points out how kuchnia staropolska became associated with simple but tasty peasant food in the 1970s, when the leader of the Communist Party Edward Gierek ushered a period of economic revitalization and relative comfort, fueled by money borrowed from the west by the state. The move of rural populations toward the cities to participate in the new productive activities generated a sense of nostalgia that in turn led to the emergence of a manufactured image of what the old cooking was like, while the actual “country” products were already quite industrialized and homogeneous.
Producers express mixed relationships with tradition. The owners of Zubrzycki Piekarnia, a bakery that produces cebularz lubelski (a sort of onion focaccia now protected by a EU geographical indication), pride themself in their belonging to the bakers’ guild and their possession of old documents. Zbigniew Kołodziej at the Majatek Rutka Farm does a remarkable job at bringing back breeds of cattle, sheep, and geese what were almost extinct, but he is not interested neither in getting involved in modernizing his farm’s style nor in the newfangled food movement.
Others, while producing traditional foods, do not vocally defend tradition and actively foster nostalgic attachment to the past. Frux Solis farm, manufactures amazing ciders, nalewki and powidła (a plum compote that simmers for three days in a copper pot). Pstrag Pustelnia Fishery, raises sustainably and smokes excellent trout, sturgeon, and carp. Although both companies provide high quality goods offered in ways that appeal to contemporary consumers, they do not aim to bring back the past.
Some producers embody the same ethos as many young artisans in the US and elsewhere in Europe, who are more invested in the uniqueness and excellence of their own craft than in pursuing local traditions. Anna Łuczywek and Rafeł Duszyński at Mleczna Droga Dairy Farm, who speak fluent English and had previous successful careers in the capital, feel to be part of an international food movement that promotes good and honest food. They create their own products borrowing from both local and foreign customs and techniques, so that their yogurt and fresh cheese are as interesting as their stilton-style cheese.
The diversity among these producers exemplifies the complexity of the food scene in Poland. Such ferment is likely to trickle down to consumers at large, also thanks to the growing exposure of all things gastronomy on the media. Despite its unique characteristics and present-day social throes, and although its negotiations with tradition are open-ended, Poland seems to be taking a well-trod path towards culinary cosmopolitanism, as many post-industrial societies have done before.
Cover picture: fermentation jars at the now closed restaurant Solec 44, by chef Aleksander Baron