Cleveland Polish Boy Sandwich

This sausage sandwich was invented here in Cleveland in the World War Two era by Virgil Whitmore, who owned a barbecue restaurant on Cleveland's East Side. The idea was to put something of a typical grilled kielbasa lunch or dinner of grilled kielbasa, french fries, coleslaw and barbecue sauce all together on a bun. I suggest using hoagie rolls that you can split yourself, and then only cut about 2/3 of the way through the roll. If you can't grill the sausage, broil or fry it until it gets a little brown. This is a BIG sandwich and it is often identified as one of the foods folks should try when visiting Cleveland. It has been touted on national television as one of America's best sandwiches. The napkin industry loves it, because you'll need plenty of napkins. 

Ingredients (per each sandwich):

1 kielbasa (6 to 8 inches)

1 hotdog or hoagie bun

2 to 3 tablespoons coleslaw (not with lots of liquid)

1 "good" handful french fries

2 to 3 tablespoons barbecue sauce

Grill, broil or fry the kielbasa so that it has some brown color to it. Toast the bun lightly, add the ingredients however you choose, as some people like to add the coleslaw or french fries first, then lay the kielbasa on top of that, before adding the other ingredients. I generally put the kielbasa, then the coleslaw, then the french fries and top everything with the barbecue sauce.

 

On this day, I had the Polish Boy Sandwich along with some potato salad ...

WORD HISTORY:

Kielbasa-This word has an "uncertain" origin, so I am going to work backward on its history. In American English, "kielbasa" was first used in the early 20th Century, and in American English it generally means a Polish sausage with rather coarsely ground pork, beef, or a combination of the two, in a casing, and the sausage is seasoned somewhat with garlic and then smoked. Kielbasa often comes in a "U" shape, but it can also come looking more like a hotdog. American English borrowed the word from Polish "kiełbasa," which means "sausage," in general. Polish "likely" got the word from its parent, Old Slavic "kelbasa" (other Slavic languages have forms too), meaning "grilled/roasted meat." This "probably" came from Turkish "kulbasti," with the same meaning, but literally "pressed on the coals/ashes," but transliterated Hebrew "kolbasar," a general term for "meat," is also a possible candidate.    

Basil Cream

Basil Cream is fairly common in a number of areas of the world, including in Germany and Austria, where it is known as "Basilikum Creme." You can use sour cream or creme fraiche* as the base, or you can use Mexican Crema, which is more neutral in taste, as both sour cream and creme fraiche have varied amounts of tartness. Mexican Crema is also not usually as thickened as either of the other two. Basil Cream is used as an ingredient in several dishes, often to make a sauce for chicken or fish, but it is also used as a topping for some fruit and vegetable dishes. There are variations to recipes for Basil Cream, and this is mine.

Ingredients:

2/3 cup sour cream, creme fraiche, or Mexican Crema
15 medium basil leaves, chopped or torn into smaller pieces
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt

Add all ingredients to a non reactive bowl or jar. Mix well. Cover and refrigerate the basil cream for at least a couple of hours prior to use to allow the flavor to develop. Stir before using. 

* To make creme fraiche, here is the recipe. It is very easy: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2017/07/make-your-own-creme-fraiche.html

WORD HISTORY:
Horde-This word's exact history (the specifics) is a bit shaky, but that history seems to be close to the meaning of the word, as it seems to have traveled from Asia into eastern Europe and then further westward, as its less specific history is likely correct. By the way, it is not related to the word "hoard," the spelling of both the noun and the verb in English, which is a word from the Germanic roots of English. The ultimate origin of "horde" is far from certain, although there are theories that are just too loose for me to accept. Anyway, it seems to go back to Mongolian "ordu/ordo," meaning, "the residence or encampment of a ruler." (Note: It's important to remember that through much of history, "rulers/leaders" often literally led their armies in military actions; thus, a ruler was often in a camp with their military forces, which were often frequently on the move.) This was borrowed into Turkic as "ordu," meaning, "army force, army camp, military command camp." This was then borrowed into East Slavic languages, either from Turkic or Mongolian, as Russian has transliterated "orda," originally meaning "the Khan's military command camp," a little later identified with the Mongol, and then Mongol/Turkic area of eastern Europe/western Asia ruled by a Khan, and known as "the Golden Horde." As this area began to break up, groups traveled off, giving a twist to the meaning of the word as, "group of related nomads traveling about and living off the land" (and all that really meant, such as plunder and slaughter). Polish borrowed the word as "orda" from Ukrainian, which also had "orda," but the word also added an identification with the Tatars/Tartars, either from Ukrainian or Polish, as the Tatars had risen in military power as allies of the Mongols of Genghis Khan and then Timur, better known to English speakers as Tamerlane. German borrowed the word from Polish, as "Horde," but it's unclear whether the "h" had already been added in Polish, or whether this was a German insertion. Latin had borrowed the word as "orda," "seemingly" from Turkish in the Balkans? French had the word as "horde," "apparently" borrowed from German, but perhaps from Latin, with a French added "h?" English borrowed the word in the mid 1500s, but from French? German? Its meaning expanded in English to mean just about any group of people, usually unruly, but not always, and its older meaning is also still around. Examples: (broader meaning) "The soccer game drew a horde of fans as spectators;" but also, (derogatory) "After the local team won the soccer game, a horde of fans surged along the streets breaking windows, smashing doors and overturning cars;" (historical) "The roads were clogged with panicked people from the town as a horde of Tatars approached." The Nazis used the word to try to scare Germans into continuing their support of the war and of the regime to resist the Russians later in World War Two.       

Polish Cabbage & Noodles

If someone were to ask you to name a typical Polish food, you'd likely say "pierogis" or "kielbasa," as these foods are very tied to Polish identity, but .... Back in the first half of the 1500s, the Polish king, Sigismund I (Polish: Zygmunt), married Bona Sforza of Italy as his second wife (his first wife had died after childbirth). The new queen helped to bring Italian cuisine to Poland, including the common use of pasta. In this dish, the pasta is paired with cabbage and mushrooms. The Polish word "łazanki," pronounced as if, "wah-zahn-kee," is a type of noodle; thus, pasta. There are numerous variations to this dish, including the type of pasta used, but I've used egg noodles. Polish cooking, as well as other cooking styles in Belarus, Lithuania and Russia, uses a good deal of sour cream in recipes, something that the Germans in eastern Europe, especially in East Prussia, picked up from these various national/ethnic groups over the centuries.   

Ingredients:

5 cups fresh cabbage, chopped
1 large onion, chopped
1/2 pound mushrooms, chopped
4 tablespoons butter + 4 tablespoons canola oil
10 to 12 ounces wide egg noodles
2/3 cup sour cream (low fat type is fine)
2 teaspoons sweet paprika
salt and pepper

Melt the butter in a large skillet or in a large heavy bottomed pot, then add the canola oil. Add the onion and saute for about two minutes. Add the mushrooms and cook for 2 minutes, stirring further. Add the cabbage and cook over medium low heat, stirring occasionally, until the cabbage has cooked down and is tender. Sprinkle the paprika over the mixture, season with salt and pepper and stir. Meanwhile, cook the noodles per the instructions on the package. Drain the noodles and mix into the cabbage. Stir in the sour cream and serve.

With some sliced tomatoes and red onion...

WORD HISTORY:
Pierogi (Singular form: pieróg)-The ultimate origin of this word is unknown, and its history is shaky in places, but "apparently" it goes back to transliterated Old Slavic "pireh," which meant, "feast, drinking and food celebration." This then produced the transliterated Slavic "piru," with the same meanings. In some Slavic dialects/languages, it then seems to have taken on the meaning, "pie," perhaps from a common food served for large occasions (feasts). With Polish and some other Slavic languages, it came to mean "filled dumpling," seemingly tying in with the notion of "pie;" that is, "a filled dough." English borrowed the word from Polish immigrants to America in the mid 1800s, with further reinforcement from Yiddish as Eastern European Jews immigrated into the U.S.

The German Question, Part Fifty-Nine

"Bismarck" Part Five/D "Bismarck as Chancellor & A Treaty With 'Contentious Relatives' "
"Ethnic Minorities in Bismarckian Germany/"East/North Addendum"

I found some very good information about minorities in Germany since I published the last few articles on this subject as part of this series. The info is from a census from December 1900, which is a bit ahead of our story, but I would certainly believe it gives a pretty good representation of what things were like in Germany a couple of decades prior. It is a breakdown of minorities by "language," not by what people considered themselves to be ethnically. In some cases, I believe this might skew the numbers. How? Let's say your parents came to America from country "XYZ." They wanted their kids to grow up being purely Americans, so you don't really speak the language of "XYZ,"....ah..."XYZan," I'll call it. When the census is taken and one of the questions is often about your ethnic background, you check "XYZ." Under the system in this German census, you would not be counted as a minority, because you don't speak "XYZan." Now, if that's not as clear as mud, I can try again. (What's that loud "No" I hear? Just because you can't speak "XYZan," no need to get hostile!)

So here are some numbers for minorities already covered in the last few articles: there were more than 3 million Polish speakers in Germany; most would have been in the far eastern areas, although some in the Ruhr (which is in the west), as industrial workers. "Masurisch" and "Kassubisch" (Masurian and Kashubian) had 142,000 and 100,000, respectively.* Danish speakers accounted for 141,000, almost all in Schleswig. Lithuanian speakers, 106,000, in the (then) far northeastern corner of  Germany. Wendish (also called "Sorbian") speakers, 93,000, in the "Lausitz" region, down near and along the modern Czech border. There were 100,000 speakers of Czech and Moravian, I would believe mainly in the Silesia region (again, near the modern Czech border).** (A Word History is below the notes)

* Masurian is a Slavic language closely related to Polish that was spoken in the eastern areas of Prussia, also known as "East Prussia." The speakers of Masurian were mainly Protestant Poles (most Poles remained staunchly Catholic), and they fit in nicely with the mainly Protestant German population in the area. Eventually, most came to consider themselves as "Germans." Kashubian is another Slavic language (or Polish dialect, depending upon point of view) that was spoken along the Baltic Sea coast, including the area in and around Danzig (Gdansk, in Polish). A majority of Kashubians were Catholic, which brought them into conflict with Bismarck, although as far as I am aware, they all spoke German, too, and probably some even  spoke Low German, as that was common in that area. Further, their predominant religion and close linguistic relationship with Polish made many Kashubians "suspect" in the eyes of German nationalists. Many Kashubians never fully integrated into "German society." Their homeland has been a part of Poland since the end of World War Two. The Kashubians figured somewhat in the rather famous novel "The Tin Drum" ("Die Blechtrommel") by German author Günter Grass, as the novel is set most often in and around Danzig. Grass was part Kashubian from his mother's side. 

** Moravian is a dialect of Czech.

WORD HISTORY:
Leber/Liver-"Wurst" was covered earlier, as was "Brat," so here is "Leber," as in Leberwurst, or liverwurst. As you can already see, "Leber" and "liver" are closely related. They go back to the Indo European root "leip," which had the notion of "adhere, stick, be sticky," with references to blood and to fat." Indo European "leip" is also the ancient ancestor of "live," which in German is "leben."^ In ancient times, many people believed the liver produced blood, probably due to its reddish-brown color; thus the tie to "live" and also "life," the related word in German is "Leib," which tends to mean "(living) body," as opposed to dead body/corpse, "Leiche." The Indo European root gave Old Germanic "libra/libera." This then gave Old English "lifer" and Old High German "lebara." The Old English form then became "lyver(e)," before the modern form. There are various forms throughout the Germanic languages: standard German "Leber," Low (Saxon) German has "Lebber," West Frisian, Dutch, Swedish, Danish and Norwegian all have "lever," Icelandic has "lifur," and Luxemburgisch (a German dialect to some, a language to others) has "Liewer."

^ Liver is also distantly related to "lipo," when it refers to "fat," as in "liposuction." "Lipo" is from Greek.  

Rasputin's Importance To History, Part 7

One of the most controversial topics about Rasputin was his "seeming" ability to stop the bleeding in the Tsar's hemophiliac son, Alexei. There were people who believed (and those who still do believe) that Rasputin had some kind of supernatural powers, and others who felt that he used some sort of trickery, including hypnosis (and likewise, there are people who still believe this), and still others who believed he had an accomplice inside the palace who helped him by administering a mysterious drug to the boy, and then Rasputin would appear just as the drug took effect. My own opinion, for what it's worth, is that as to "supernatural" powers, I don't believe in any such nonsense. There may well be things in life that appear to have some supernatural cause, but enough research will show that there is some more natural explanation (Now what brings about that natural cause is open to debate.) As to an accomplice, I doubt it. As to a mysterious drug, I doubt that, too, as such a drug could have made any person possessing it a very wealthy person. To me, the explanation is more simple. Initially, Rasputin wanted status by being introduced to the imperial family. In order to improve that status and become even closer with the Tsar and Tsarina, he saw an opportunity in their son's illness. Whether he knew what the illness was at first, I doubt it, as hemophilia was not a common affliction. One thing Rasputin did know and understand was people; that is, personalities, and the desire by people to believe in supernatural forces that could counter what had been assumed to be incurable. His first "healing" of the boy could well have been a roll of the dice. He had nothing to lose. If I come to the bedside of a very ill person, say a prayer, make the sign of the cross, and in a time, the person's condition begins to improve, did I do this, or was it a process that was already underway, and I just got the credit for it? I believe the latter. That is not to say that later on, when Alexei had other bleeding incidents that Rasputin's presence did not indeed calm the boy and provide comfort to him, and especially to his mother, thus helping to control the bleeding. This is what many doctors have attributed to Rasputin's "healing" of Alexei. Again, you have to keep in mind that once Rasputin was given credit for saving the boy by the Tsarina, there was no turning back. At the next bleeding episode, what was he to do, say that he couldn't help Alexei? Rasputin derived any "power" and status he had by virtue of his association with the Tsarina and her belief that he could keep her son alive. His whole position would have been lost. The same was true with the next episode, and the next, and the next. There was no incentive for Rasputin NOT to answer the Tsarina's calls or telegrams, nor was there any reason for him to say that he couldn't help the boy.

The most famous "healing" episode, and the one that totally solidified Rasputin's position with the Tsarina came when the imperial family was at one of their hunting lodges in Poland.* Alexei injured his leg getting into or out of a boat. At first, it was thought that the injury was not serious, but the internal bleeding grew ever worse, and the boy lingered for several days in terrible pain, as the swelling from the blood literally disfigured his leg and caused terrible pain in his lower abdomen. The boy had to be fitted with a special leg brace after his recovery, so severe had his leg been damaged. The Tsarina was beside herself. Each cry of pain by the boy terrified her, and she rarely left his bedside, nor did she sleep much for days. Some of the people present claimed that Alexandra's hair had a gray tinge to it after these days at her son's bedside.

Rasputin was at his home in western Siberia at that time. A trip to Poland would have taken many days by train, which was the most effective means of long distance transport in those times. The Tsarina sent a telegram to his village and Rasputin replied to her. The exact text of his reply has been "quoted" in a variety of ways, and if I remember correctly, the telegram did not survive those times, as far as is known. The gist of Rasputin's reply was that the Tsarina should not let the doctors** bother the boy anymore, and that the boy would recover. Within about a day, Alexei's condition improved, and after a time he recovered, although with the severely bent leg, as I mentioned above.

Doctor's have speculated to this day about what actually happened in Poland. Most have said that if anything, Rasputin gave good advice in his telegram to the Tsarina; that is, keep the doctors away! Keep in mind, this was the heir to the throne of the Russian Empire. Any doctor would have felt the need to try to do something, anything, even though knowing that not much could actually be done (with the knowledge of those times). All of this fussing and Alexandra's sobbing and terror stricken appearance would unnerve anyone, let alone a small boy in terrible pain. The speculation is, that when the doctor's were withdrawn, and Alexandra had been noticeably calmed just by receiving Rasputin's reply, the boy also calmed down, allowing the natural healing process to take place.

To be continued in "Part Eight" ...

* Technically during that time, there was no Poland as a nation, only as a geographical description. Most of what had been Poland (including Warsaw) was then a part of Russia, with a smaller section being part of Germany, and an even smaller section being part of Austria-Hungary.

** Several specialists had been ordered to Poland from St. Petersburg.

WORD HISTORY:
Poland-This word for the eastern European country goes back to Indo European "pel," which had the notion of "flat, spread out." This gave its Old Slavic offspring "pole," which meant "plain, field." The Old Slavic form produced "Polans," the name of a Slavic tribe, with the more literal meaning, "people of the plains/fields." The Slavic form also later gave Polish (a Slavic language) "polje," with the meaning "field." The area where the Polans lived was called in Polish "Polanie," and the neighboring Germans picked up the word as "Polen," likely more from the Slavic tribe name "Polans." English seems to have borrowed the word from German, more than likely from Low German,^ in the 1500s, but likely owing to a misunderstanding of the "len" ending of the Low German form, assumed it to be equivalent to "land;" thus, "Poland."

^ Many of the Germans coming into contact with the Slavic tribes in what became Poland were Low German speakers. Since standard German, which is mainly derived from High German dialect, also uses "Polen," I "assume" it got the word from Low German, but I could not find confirmation of that.