Robyn, the Grandgirls, and I were off to the 17th Pierogi Fest in Whiting, IN, this morning. Not being of Polish descent, I’ve never had an authentic Pierogi. I was looking forward to the experience. Whiting is about an hour’s drive, in urban traffic, from Robyn’s house. The Fest began at 11:00 today, and we were there shortly after, but had to walk about a half mile to get there. We parked free along the street and noticed that as we got closer the prices rose to $15 for parking.
Just to the right of the entrance to the historic 119th Street entrance was a fountain. Even the fountain herons were wearing babushkas and aprons! That was a good sign.
We stopped at the fountain briefly so the girls could see it, and I could cool down a bit. It was dang hot out! Isn’t is funny how if you stop to take a picture of something, others around you stop too, and bring out their cameras?
A Polish Pierogi Fest is obviously about food, and there was plenty of it. (I hope you’ll click to enlarge) There were pierogis, potato pancakes, shish-ka-bobs, and huge Polish sausages to choose from. In the lower left picture, one of the young workers seems to be enjoying the experience, but Busha is all business getting those pancakes out. The picture on the lower right is the stand we stopped at for our potato/cheese pierogis. Interestingly, the workers at this stand were deaf, and only the person taking the orders could hear.
By the time we got our order, the sweat was just pouring off of me, and I had to take my glasses off because I needed windshield wipers to keep them clear. A woman in the crowd approached me and asked if I needed to sit down. Since I’ve been very young, when I get hot my face turns beat red and the sweat just runs down my face. I did need to sit down, and we found a picnic table to sit at in the shade to enjoy the pierogis. Even though I’ve spent a lot of time in the hot steamy south, today’s heat and humidity really got to me.
Shortly afterward, we turned around and headed back the way we had come. We didn’t quite make it to the end of the Fest area.
On the way back, I suggested stopping to see the three man polka band (drums, trumpet, and accordion) on one of the side streets. The polka beat spoke to Robyn and the girls. If I come back here again next summer, we have intentions of returning to this festival. I sure would have liked to have a taste of all the ethnic offerings. Oprah has rated this one of the best seven festivals in the Chicago area, and now that I have more information on it I’d like to return under better weather conditions.
When we got back to Robyn’s house, we all headed for the pool to cool off. I’ll save those pics for a later post.
Thanks for stopping by… talk to you later, Judy