On April Fools 2016, I became prudently homeless and took off to another continent. Here is part two, spoiling myself with my homeland’s customary delicacies!
Missed the first part? Check it out Here!
Breaking the Fast, Polish Style
At 5:30am I could sleep no more, the effects of shocking billions of cells with abrupt 9 hour time shift. Not bad, as far as jetlag goes, and perfectly acceptable if I were a farmer. I used the quiet, cold morning to catch up on some web dev work; see, I’m doing the digital nomadry right!
The breakfast was, as Polish breakfasts tend to be, amazing. Basket of thick breads, platters of rich meats, and variety of creamy cheeses – a bouquet waiting to be arranged as you please.
It’s not just about the variety (yes, there are at least 30 types of “polish sausage”), it’s the quality that makes it. You take your bread, maybe bit of butter, and a slice of goose pate. No, don’t you DARE put catchup or mustard, or slam any other fillers. When your base ingredients taste amazing, why would you want to detract from the flavor?
The feast predictably cut short by mental culpabilities, I was appointed the bag-carrier by my gramma. We walked to the nearby bazarek, one of Polish “farmer markets” sprouting literally everywhere. Unlike American equivalents, these are not once-a-week overpriced extravaganzas, but simply where Poles get their in-season vegetables, freshly baked breads and various animals exquisitely butchered to the customers’ liking.
Sure, we still stopped by the “regular” grocery store and paid our capitalist dues, but even those have a much more elaborate deli section and characteristically unpleasant Polish staff, happy to complain you take too long to count the change. Because it’s their store, you see, and you should be on your knees for the sheer privilege of being allowed to enter.
Getting Drunk off of Honey
It was now time for prasówka, a typical noon break from work to browse the newspaper, drink some coffee, and indulge a cheesecake. I always take small portions due to my punishing lack of a sweet tooth, but forgot I’m not in America anymore and baked goodies here aren’t as godawfully sweet (protip: you don’t put sugar in your bread either). Seconds were had by all.
After further pointless digital meandering involving my laptop and a couch, the gramps invited me to try Miód Pitny (“Drinkable Honey”), a home-made alcoholic drink made from fermented honey diluted and infused with various spices. Delish honey flavor mixed well with the characteristic alcoholic bite, even if overpowering in sweetness after just a glass or two. It is a slow sipper, after all. But I am not sure if fresh fruit was the best pairing here.
We had soup and pierogis for “lunch” (usually the main meal of the day), but that’s only the most stereotypically boring Polish dish so go read a Wikipedia article on it or something.
And Now…
Things I do “Wrong” According to my Gramma
- I drink too much water
- I don’t eat enough
- I eat too often
- I work at wrong times
- I open my window
- I slouch too much
- I sleep too late
- I stay up too late
- I put my (clean) clothes in the wrong place
- I sit at my computer too much
A Polish Evening
With post-indulgence fidgets, I went for a walk to pick up some Inka’s Kawa Zbożowa (“Grain Coffee”), a non-caffeinated alternative to coffee made from roasted wheat, or rye, or one of other million things someone sometime figured we could bury in the ground to make more of.
The stale evening was a mess of ill-attempted distraction work and pseudo-nap. Modest supper of breads and pickled herrings went underappreciated only by lack of appetite. I awaited the rescue of slumber reading Sezon Burz (“Season of Thunders”), the newest novel in the Polish Wiedźmin (“The Witcher”) series by Andrzej Sapkowski.
On the upside, staying awake during the 30 odd hour airborne trek here successfully short-circuited jetlag like I hoped!
Retrologue
Revisiting the homeland is both refreshing and somewhat unexciting, given I already used up the Whoa-I-am-back moment few months prior. With less motivation to roam the Warsaw streets, I ought to get my shit together and lock in actual travel plans. I did finally make a decision to skip a trek to Korea (boo!), but replaced it with a visit to a friend in Lyon and stopping by my borther’s in Manchester.
There’s also a Finland trip in May to see another internet buddy who, somehow, grew to trust me over a decade of geeky textual communication. I suppose it doesn’t take much to get someone to trust a Polak after all – who knew! But knowing myself, at least Henrik is right not to fear I would rip his kidney while he sleeps.
Besides, what would I do with a kidney? Now, a potato; with a potato, I could accomplish things!
Continue to Part 3: Beer and Work while Touring Warsaw!
One thought on “Eurotrip Part 2: Polish Breakfast, Grain-Coffee and Drinkable Honey”
Comments are closed.