Ahem. Farmers markets are great. They are made up of great
people, typically, and they attract great people, typically. They are about
freshness, community, the outdoors, tradition, making connections – all good
things. When I was in Ukraine, the prevalence of bazaars was one of my favorite
features. Whether arranged along a sidewalk or within an organized marketplace,
the bazaar world was perfect for immersing oneself in culture. Fruits and veggies,
baked goods, and every kitchen item you could want… but also new rugs, used
trombones, car parts, pajamas, endless boots, and more. Two of my favorite
parts, beyond all of that: [mostly] gently used clothes, a la Goodwill/thrift
store style, and pyrizhky – fried “pies”, more like pockets of potato or
sausage or peas or shredded cabbage and carrots. Mmmm pyrizhky (please forgive
the good faith transliteration)! You could smell these anywhere, with their
greasy waft layering fatty deliciousness into the air. They were usually the
best at the bazaar, rather than in a shop, although the absolute best were at a
little stand by the main city bus station. Technically, perhaps, this stand
might be considered to be part of the bazaar, as the bus station was more or
less surrounded by stalls and vendors. Still, it was just on the edge of the
platform, perfectly placed to provide a to-go snack, pulled fresh from the
steaming silver dish and packed away quickly – or eaten immediately. Better yet
– take two, they’re small! Have one here and take one to go!
Plenty to say about pyrizhky, it turns out. Not to mention
the nuances between the baked kind and the fried kind. Or the best way to eat
them on a train or bus and avoid unnecessarily smearing grease or grabbing unwanted
attention. Or what all’s in the cabbage kind. Or whether they’re good with
ketchup, as some allege. Not to mention any of this.
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