Second of all, let me say that I'm not Ruthenian. (We'll get to the subject of Ruthenia in a moment.) But my wife's family is Ruthenian, and I'm the cook in my household, so I've had the duty and privilege of preparing some traditional Ruthenian dishes for the holidays.
Now, about Ruthenia... Ruthenia is a place. Or, rather, Ruthenia was a place. Scholars -- and members of my wife's extended family -- don't agree on exactly where it was, but it was clearly somewhere in Eastern Europe. Wikipedia describes it better than I could.
Suffice it to say that my in-laws say their ancestry is Ruthenian, and their holiday tradition includes kielabasa. Kielbasa with brown sauerkraut, to be precise, which I prepared yesterday.
It began with a visit to the Union Pork Store in Union, NJ last weekend. These two photos show just a fraction of the huge assortment of sausages and other products offered there.
I purchased three links of kielbasa, roughly five pounds total. I'm not a kielbasa expert, but I know there's more than one kind, and I know that I usually buy the kind known as krajana, which is coarse-ground. Another customer, who appeared to be an elderly Eastern European lady, tried to talk me into the fine-ground version, which, if I understood her correctly, is called mielona. I was almost persuaded, but in the end I stuck with the familiar krajana.
The first thing I did when I got home was to seal the kielbasa tightly in a large plastic bag. If this step isn't taken, the refrigerator and everything in it will reek of garlic!
On Christmas Eve, I liberated the kielbasa from its plastic prison...
...and assembled the other two ingredients for my dish: sauerkraut and slab bacon. The sauerkraut was a couple of two-pound bags or ordinary kraut from the refrigerated section of my local supermarket. The bacon came from the Union Pork Store. The variety and quantity of bacon aren't critical. I had about a third of a pound.
I diced the bacon...
...and cooked it in a nonstick pan until slightly crispy.
Then I drained some, but not all of the grease. I drained as much liquid as possible from the sauerkraut and added the kraut to the pan. I cooked it for several minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden. This combination of smoked pork and light caramelization produces the "brown sauerkraut" that's key to the dish.
Next, I sliced the kielbasa. I like to cut half-inch slices on the bias, which provides plenty of surface area to encourage mingling of the juices from the kielbasa and the kraut. You can see the coarse texture that characterizes krajana kielbasa.
Then it was just a matter of combining the brown sauerkraut and the kielbasa slices in a couple of aluminum baking pans.
At that point, since I wasn't planning to serve the kielbasa until the next day, I stored the pans in the refrigerator. On Christmas Day, I brought them to my sister-in-law's house (once again safely wrapped in a large plastic bag). She heated the pans in a 350-degree oven for about an hour.
The kielabasa was just one part of a multiethnic holiday meal that included mushroom soup, Italian-style antipasto, ham, pierogies, green beans, carrots and babka. The feast was enjoyed by all, Ruthenians and non-Ruthenians alike.
Happy holidays and good eating!
This sounds like a dish my Hungarian mom often made on cold winter nights. She pre-rinsed her sauerkraut to make it less salty, sometimes added caraway seeds, and always added cubed potatoes in the sauerkraut to round out the meal. Red skin potatoes add nice color.
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