The way you made Wareniki was simple. Gemma’s dad had once taught her how. “Shame you couldn’t learn from my mum; she was the best. My brothers didn’t care about cooking. I always did …” He’d stared off. “But hey, imagine coming home to this after a full day working on the farm.” That’s where their history came from, of course. The farm. Though her Opa’d been a teacher, and same with all his kids. No farmers left in the family by the time Gemma came along. Heh, and now you can go to MJ’S Kafé in Steinbach and buy a T-shirt that says GOT SCHMAUNTFAT? and that book Mennonite Girls Can Cook was a bestseller. Of course the cooking was by women. Her dad a beautiful anomaly in that way, Mennonite men and cooking an oxymoron even when Gemma was growing up. Those nights she’d stayed with her Opa in Roland, his way of making Gemma lunch for school was ordering an extra burger at Dairy Queen the night before and putting it in the fridge overnight. Gemma didn’t mind. She’d liked her grandfather. He’d fall asleep to a giant radio while Gemma lay awake on the other side of the bed, listening to a lull of talk on frequency bands she then didn’t understand and now couldn’t remember.

But Gemma’s dad, he’d taught her how to make Wareniki, though Gemma’s fucked it up a couple times since. Once, in Toronto, Gemma’d promised to make that roommate/lover a big pan of them. But she bought pastry flour not knowing the difference and ended up with a huge flavourless pile of dough holding tiny circles of filling. She’d felt so stupid and lonely, lifting those heaving mounds out of the oven in that shitty East End apartment. It was a silly thing to be upset about. But Gemma had been so fucking sad.

First, you make the perogy dough. Just use flour and water to make a bunch of it (a bit of salt and baking powder, if you want). Make sure it’s not sticky. Chill it in the fridge for an hour.

After that, you make the filling. There are lots of options, but you grew up with cottage cheese, and that’s what you are going to make. You take two big containers of the stuff and put it in a bowl. Stir in a few healthy dabs of salt and an egg, and then lots of pepper. You want enough pepper that the top is nearly solid black before you start mixing it in.

Next, preheat the oven to 350, and then roll out your dough. Make it thin. Use a glass on a cutting board to cut out individual Wareniki and put the cottage cheese filling in the centre. Make sure you don’t put too much; you want to be able to pinch it off clean when you close the dough. There, you have your first one. Repeat until you have enough to fill a baking pan.