Fat Thursday?

 2/23

Polish night

During the pandemic, I subscribed to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette to keep myself close to “home.” Kind of comforting somehow. It comes online around 2:30 AM.Perfect for those middle of the night wake ups.  A week or so ago I saw an article saying that we were reaching the peak of paczky season.. That time between Three Kings Day (January 6th ) and Ash Wednesday when Polish bakeries turn out doughnuts stuffed with rose hip or other jelly or even Boston creme.    

The culmination is traditionally Fat Thursday…the Thursday before Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday.  (Though nowhere can I find an explanation of how that happened!). And it seems the epicenter of paczky celebration is the Hamtramck, Michigan annual parade the Saturday before. Sadly, Fat Thursday sees to be getting folded into Fat Tuesday leading old school Poles to say, “Americans just can’t get it right.”

So I was determined to find some paczky. Exhaustive research led me to conclude there are no paczky to be found in Manhattan. So there was no choice but a field trip to Greenpoint, Brooklyn. The best Polish neighborhood in New York City.  I first encountered it running the New York City Marathon which passes right through on Manhattan Avenue on the way to the halfway point tin the Pulaski bridge. 

Later, I would come back on the “Great Open Mic Tour of 2015” to  Cafe Edna and then bring my Home (Away) Band back  to do a feature. The host, singer-songwriter-tapdancer  Liana Gabel would later become a collaborator in several concerts. I would also come back for a few shows with my friend Steve at the Jungle Cafe. I had come to experience Greenpoint, like many a gentrifying neighborhood, as a typical urban confluence of hipsters and old Poles, hipster bars and cafes next to bakeries and butchers and stores with Polish signs.

I took the subway and found the Old Poland Bakery just down the street from the G line. 

the bakery

I walked in, asked for paczky, even pronouncing it right, and found a wonderful variety. They also also had the almost light as air angel wings dusted in powdered sugar.

paczki, angel wings...

I took my paczky and coffee and went out to sit in the sun on a wonderful warm day.  Midday workweek  found mainly old Poles, mostly  women, a few men, and no hipsters. I enjoyed the rich dough of my paczky and the vibe of Greenpoint.

I share this story with my Wednesday morning group. I’m wearing a red “Polish Night” t-shirt from a Tigers game in 2014 along with a hat as souvenier of that night with a friend.  Neither worn since then. Also to honor my good friend Russ  in our group who grew up in that part of the world. 

So hat’s off to Fat Thursday and paczki and hats on Detroit…