Pols Vote for More Pierogi

If you're like me, you may not have polish food very often. In fact, your knowledge of such cuisine may be limited to Mrs. T's frozen goods. I wasn't comfortable with such a ceiling, so I decided that I would open things up a bit by looking for a place in the neighborhood. My search yielded Polonica, a place I had passed on occasion, without ever giving it a second look. To find out if my unobservant tendencies were something to regret, as well as expand my proverbial horizons, I set out to try my first real polish restaurant.

Polonica, next to its neighbors, appears subtle. The dark blue banner and white script don't pop quite as much as the brightly colored signs flanking it. To say it's easy to pass would be an understatement.

Inside, things liven up a little. Yellow animates the walls, despite the soft lighting. Plastic trees bring a little bit of much needed life to the scene. Smells of the kitchen, just a few feet from the eating area, waft in occasionally to revive waiting patrons.

While it's small, this never seems to hamper movement once you sit down. Before then, it can be restricting with heavy luggage. To make things easier on everyone, it's best to pack light. Otherwise, you'll probably get a nasty look when you wade through the cramped space and accidentally hit an old lady.

The menu, to the laymen (like me), is diverse, but particularly intimidating because of the polish dishes retaining their original names. However, the owners include a brief description of each meal to keep it familiar yet authentic. Additionally, the server/chef/owner isn't shy about answering any questions about the food (or pronunciation). Since it's not every day that I get to sample Polish food, I decided to try each course they offered, beginning with soup.

Cucumber soup, as I came to find, really tastes more like pickle than anything else. The sour taste is accented by a mildly creamy texture and chunks of polish cucumber (which is pickled, thus the taste). This soup, while to the liking of my companion, was a little too tangy for me. During my next visit, I will likely try the White Borscht (Żurek) instead.

After the soup came the pierogi. For those unfamiliar, this is akin to a ravioli or dumpling in appearance. They consist of a dough shell and filling. You can stuff it with just about anything. Typically, these are prepared through frying (harder, crunchy) or boiling (softer, not as tough).

Despite a bit of initial indecision, we eventually settled on having potato pierogi, boiled and served with sour cream. I wasn't disappointed by the result. On their own, each dumpling was soft and easy to chew. The filling, which was lightly seasoned with pepper, was fluffy and tasty. A bit of sour cream really made this combination something special though. It adds a welcome bit of texture to each bite that's absent otherwise. Every order is accompanied by caramelized onions. Not only are these delicious, but they are included.

While pierogi are an appetizer, each plate could easily stand on its own as a dish for one. With the ability to personalize them to such a dramatic extent, they have the potential to satisfy even the pickiest eater.

Between the appetizers and main courses, a small plate of vegetables, which was referred to as salad, is provided as part of the cost. There's no cucumbers and tomatoes here, though. This plate is filled with anything but your ordinary fixings. To start with, the most abrupt taste is the sauerkraut. True to its name, it's sour, but without being overwhelming. Next up, minced beets, which were surprisingly sweet. A bit of red cabbage helps keep the taste buds moderated. Sliced carrots and coleslaw complete the quintuplet, preventing things from becoming too unfamiliar. In the center, a slice of lettuce lathered in creamy Italian dressing. A part of me expected it to be something more exotic, but no, it's creamy Italian.

When I got my entree, I was half-surprised, half-intimidated. The stuffed kielbasa, in all of its glory, was a sight to behold. I couldn't even see the sausage at first. Several strips of crispy bacon wrapped tightly around the circumference left nothing but the edges exposed. Cheese, which couldn't be contained seeped out of the middle.

Besides the obvious anatomical jokes a man has to overcome when eating a wiener, I was faced with a problem. How do I even eat this thing? Previous experienced pointed to bread, but I had no such luxury. Left with little other choice, I cut it into segments, based on where the bacon ended. My first bite, was magical. The crunch of the bacon, followed by the utterly satisfying snap of the sausage, pursued by the taste of the cheese made for an amazing clash of textures and sensations. The mustard offered may be a blessing for some, but this dish was ultimately satisfying in its own right. The kasha (buckwheat) on my plate made for a poor combination, but it can be substituted for mashed potatoes.

Pyzy, a plate of potato dumpling, filled with mushrooms made up the last entree of the day. Served with a bit of sauce and fried onions, these dumplings are like a pierog's much softer, gooier cousin. The outside is chewy and reminiscent of gelatin, but firmer. It has a weak taste. However, once you reach the filling, also known as the promised land, there's a revitalization of the senses. If you can get at least a little of the inside with each bite of the outside, it balances to leave the palate satisfied. However, without such discipline, the meal might end up a series of sharp ups and downs.

Polonica doesn't carry typical confections anymore, but they do have something equally satisfying: blintzes. A blintz is a shell, similar to a pancake, but crispier and tougher, rolled around what is typically a fruit filling. It's then re-fried lightly. At the chef's recommendation, I had mine with cherry and cheese. The result wasn't an average, indulgent sweet, but a savory, tough dessert.

The bill was a little higher than I would prefer, but give the quality and quantity of the food, it seems appropriate. The break down: pickle soup $2.75, pierogi $5.25, Stuffed Kielbasa $9.95, Pyzy with Mushrooms $8.80 and Blintzes $6.20. With sales tax of $2.88, the total was $35.88. After the tip, the final tab is $40, if you believe in gratuity.

There are easy ways to save on the bill at Polonica however. So, don't be too intimidated by the cost. We had a lot of food left over. Each dish is so filling that a meal with several courses is superfluous. Dropping the soup and dessert alone lowers the tab by nearly $10. They are, by a wide margin, the least cost effective dishes on my bill. A plate of pierogi can also replace an entree, further reducing the cost for those looking for a cheaper alternative.

Service here also helps justify the bill, to an extent. While the server was incredibly helpful and polite, she was also vacant often. My understanding is that she helps prepare the food, so this is to be expected. However, during peak times this will lead to delays in service. Regardless of how swamped the staff is, they maintain their pleasant disposition, though. With that explanation in mind, the service is good, but the restaurant is understaffed. Expect problems that prop up as a result of that.

For those looking for a small bill, Polonica, even after my tips, won't be the place for you. The quality and quantity do come at a price. However, if you're looking for awesome pierogi or other good, polish food, this is a place you can wisely (and safely) invest in. Don't be surprised if there are delays in service, due to the small staff. If you want to experiment, ask the server for guidance first to avoid disappointment.

Polonica is open six days a week. Tuesday through Thursday, from noon to 10pm and Friday to Sunday, from noon to 10:30. It's closed on Monday. If you want to order take-out, you can call at (718) 630-5805 or take a stroll in at 7214 3rd avenue. Be warned, there's a fee for delivery before 5pm.