Nana and I were watching the Steelers squeak past the Browns last Monday morning (that's last Sunday night, for you folks back home) when the NBC broadcast, coming back from commercial break, ran a clip of some portly Clevelander frying pierogies. I nearly cried: pierogies are the food of my people--not the Poles or the Ukrainians, but the Yinzers, the overwhelmingly Eastern-European denizens of my beloved Pittsburgh. Along with kielbasa, Primanti's sandwiches, and vinegar slaw, nothing tastes quite so much like home as a pierogi. I mean, every home game, the Pittsburgh Pirates pay four poor souls to run a race in giant pierogi suits. (I wish I were kidding.) Pierogies are as Pittsburgh as black and gold.
Anyway: watching the butter glistening on that Clevelander's pierogies touched off a massive craving, which at first we dismissed like all our other TV cravings--namely, by shrugging off the fact that we can't get it in Korea and moving along with out lives. But the craving persisted, until Nana made a stunning realization: we could, in fact, buy flour in Korea, which means that--stay with me here--we could make the pierogies ourselves.
So, yes, as of last weekend, you can get pierogies in Korea, as long as you know the rigth people (i.e., Nana, who ended up doing pretty much all of the work). It was no small task--in the Burgh, pierogies are usually made assembly style for church fundraisers--but as far as the taste goes, it was a huge success. So much so, in fact, that we're hosting a pierogi party this weekend. Thus we continue to spread the faith around the world.