[Note: I wrote this in 2023. Krakus is now closed 😔. An alternative shop in Baltimore is At the Polish Table. – k]
I love going to Krakus deli on Fleet street. As soon as you step inside you’re greeted with the smell of the various sausages, which hang behind the counter. A small selection of Polish books, cosmetics and supplements always piques my curiosity. Towards the back, at the end of the rows of jams and jellies and pickles and soups, there lays a box of baked goods. When I go into Krakus to buy myśliwska, a type of sausage, or twaróg farmer’s cheese, I almost always leave with a pączek, a polish doughnut filled with jam.
They sell them year-round, but the time for pączki is Fat Tuesday. They’re the Polish version of fastnachts or king cakes. In many areas with historic Polish communities, like Hamtramck, Michigan, pączki have spread in popularity. Bakers develop wild new recipes topped with cereal and sprinkles, and people line up around the block to get one on Pączki Day.
I admit I’m a little bit envious of the hubbub of Hamtramck pączki culture. Not so much the over-the-top instragram-bait abominations, but the recognition and excitement of “Pączki Day.” Every year, I do my best to generate as much excitement as I can here in Baltimore.
I have three recipes for these doughnuts in my Maryland cookbooks. This post isn’t about any of them. Frankly, they are all a little too “Americanized.” The pączki I enjoy are like the ones my husband remembers from his childhood. His Polish mother made the doughnuts herself, filling them with plum jam.
She never works from exact recipes, so the closest thing we have is the instructions in “Old Polish Traditions in the Kitchen and at the Table” by Maria Lemnis & Henryk Vitry.
This 1979 book declares that making pączki is “not for young housewives who are taking their first steps in the noble art of cooking.” Deep frying is indeed intimidating, and the accompanying recipe doesn’t do much to help the beginner.
For starters, the yeast quantity —”2 1/2 ounces (about 1/3 cup)” — is probably referring to a liquid yeast that is not commonly available. To make matters more confusing, an online conversion for liquid yeast translates to about two tablespoons, which is still a somewhat unusually large quantity of yeast.
Looking for more guidance, I searched online for pączki recipes. I can’t say I was impressed. Many of the recipes cut back on the amount of egg yolks. One called for bread flour.
I bought a bag of flour at Krakus because it had a picture of pączki on the front, and a recipe on the side of the bag. The texture was finely milled like cake flour.
There are a few things about making pączki that will make an experienced doughnut-maker second-guess themselves.
The dough tends to be a bit wet. I am always tempted to add more flour, but in the kneading the dough will start to form a ball. It should pull away from the bowl and hands.. but barely.
But you still have to use judgment, because flour and moisture vary so much. See here how much egg white snuck in with my yolks. It necessitated a little extra flour:
I’ve learned to fry these a few shades darker than my instinct would allow. They need to cook through and the jam needs to get gooey. The dark exterior may be part of why pączki are so much better fresh. They don’t get bad or anything but once you’ve had a fresh one, its hard to accept an hours’ old doughnut.
There’s also the whole filling-before-frying thing. You can always skip it.
None of the blog recipes I cross-referenced insisted on frying the pączki with the filling in them, but the recipe on the side of the flour bag did, so I take it to be more standard in Poland. And I do like suffering in the name of food. The singular, Pączek means “bud” as in a flower bud. If you make these the traditional way, by filling and pinching, you can see where it got the name. In the fryer, the plum butter pączki fared better than any that I filled with other preserves. Authenticity pays off.
As of yet, I don’t have any Maryland-originating Polish cookbooks in my collection. Luckily, evidence of this culinary influence is alive and well, especially in Fells Point.
Along with the Kielbasa Factory in Rockville, Krakus stands as a draw to the Polish community of Maryland, a special place to go when you need just the right thing.
It benefits me to steer my neighbors towards Krakus on Pączki Day. Presumably, a swift business in doughnuts will help ensure that I’ll be able to get my twaróg, myśliwska, krówki caramels… and the plum butter needed to make my own pączki.
Now that I am comfortably able to produce quality pączki at home, they’re served up alongside fastnacht in an all-out doughnut-palooza. Fat Tuesday is supposed to be a celebration after all. It’s the last you’re going to get before Lent begins. Then you’re just piously reflecting on religious matters… and secretly biding your time until Dyngus Day.
Recipe:
- 1 tb sugar
- 1/3 cup milk
- 1/3 cup flour
- 1 tb yeast (or 1 envelope)
- 3 oz about 4 tb sugar
- 1 stick butter
- 8 egg yolks
- 6 cups flour
- 1 c milk
- about 1 tsp lemon zest or to taste
- 1 tb vanilla
- 2 tb rum
Make sure all ingredients are room temperature. Really. Leave them out overnight at least. You can even soften the butter some more by microwaving a mug of water and leaving the butter in the microwave with the mug for awhile.
Warm the milk to a little above room temperature but no hotter than 110°. Stir in the 1/3 cup flour, tablespoon sugar, and yeast and let it sit to turn bubbly.
Cream the butter and sugar until soft and smooth. I use a stand mixer. Add egg yolks one at a time and beat well.
I make this like cake: add some flour, then the yeast sponge, then some more flour, then some of the milk, more flour, add vanilla, rum, and lemon zest, followed by the last of the flour. Let continue to mix until it pulls away from the side of the bowl. If it continues to stick to bowl, add more flour 1 tablespoon at a time.
Once it begins to form a ball, I switch to the dough hook but you could also hand-knead. If doing the latter, I would do it with oiled hands to avoid incorporating much more flour. Knead until smooth and put in a covered bowl to rise until doubled in bulk.
Once the dough has risen, punch it down and separate into golf-ball-sized portions. Roll each until smooth. If you are filling them now, press onto board and flatten out, stretching edges slightly. Put about 1-2 tablespoons plum butter in the center, and pinch the sides up to purse the jam. Seal the pinched dough closed and lay seam side down. If you are not doing this, you can flatten the ball slightly and set to rise.
Let the doughnuts rise again until nearly doubled in bulk.
Fry in hot vegetable oil until dark brown. If you haven’t filled them before frying, make a hole inside the doughnut with a chopstick and pipe the jam inside.
Dust or roll in powdered sugar and serve as soon as they are cool enough to eat.
Recipe developed by Kara Mae Harris for Old Line Plate. Special thanks to Justyn Lopaczynski for translation assistance.
