Those evil, evil bastards were at it again.
I mean, look:
Posted by happycrow on January 28, 2007
(If your monitor is small, the image may be cut off slightly.)
Heh, well I would have tried it.
That is just too hilarious!!
Evil bastards is right – that contraption could spill the beer Unless of course its some godawful BigCorp swill like bud/miller/coors/etc, then its all good.
Well, if you can’t have ANY for about a 6 month straight time period then even a bud or coors is really good.
“Oh, evil, mean, wicked Zoot!”
“…even a bud or coors is really good…” Honestly, Mike, the problem with this statement is that you’re operating under the assumption that its actually beer – an assumption I would dispute. I’m fairly certain the real truth is that these companies simply cornered the ‘fancy bottled water’ market years before it ever became trendy.. :p
Spoken by a guy who’s never had to live without beer… ‘sides, it looks like a Beck’s or Heineken…
Hmph. I’m not all that much of a drinker – as you know. I go months without, voluntarily. That said – if I’m going to drink it, I want something nice. And yeah, I think it’s a Heineken – not much better that Bud etc..
So… I see Katie and I are the Lizard Queen’s friends, but not yours hmm? hmph. BTW – you guys ever run across a similar bierock/pierogi filling as the one listed on the blog (onion, cabbage, ground beef and pepper) in Europe? If so, where? I’m curious to know how heavily limited to KS the ‘typical’ bierock is – as the Nebraskan “Runza” is rather different, often having nothing but meat as a filling. Clearly the bierock is a variant upon the borek/burek/pierogi, but its also really only found as a kansas thing here in the states.
Hey, how do you know about Runzas? Those are from Nebraska (as you have stated), very few people know of them.
Who leaked this knowledge to you?
And speaking as someone who went without any alcohol of any kind, after 6 months I would have drunk Everclear just to piss off the AQI bunch.
Although I would have prefered to use beer of any kind. Even that stuff in the white can with the words “BEER” labeled on the side. Hell I would have drunk a Schlitz.
Dude, Chris, you ain’t the only one who needs to go on the list. I have *not* had time to do more than piddle online in the past two weeks.
Yah Russ, I’m just giving you shit cuz I can – and I’m 3 states away so I can’t get a beating for it BTW, I picked up my fancy piece of paper from the law school on friday… Last year i cuddent even sepll graddyate, now I are one. (now, on to the bar review books/cds)
Mike, Regarding the Runza, there’s actually a runza restaurant in Lawrence about 6 blocks from Katie’s apt.
I’ll tell ya this – the bierock recipe (see swordchefs dot wordpress dot com), is really pretty much dead easy, and they freeze very very well. If you have *any* kitchen abilities, you can pull this one off.
Mmmm….its been a long time since I had a runza. I’ll have to try your recipe Chris. My hubby would be happy to have something close to a runza since he is from NE and doesn’t get any very often either. Yumm….thanks for making me hungry!
Holy Cow! I did not know that. Now I actually have a reason to go to Lawrence. I like the burgers better though. And we are on the topic of good Nebraska food, Valentino’s Pizza anyone? Remember there is one in Manhatten so if you are in the neighborhood stop by.
I should try to con my Bunnywife into making some of these for me, since I’m on the road doing lunch. It can’t be much spendier than eating those little nukerwave boxed lunches…
Dude, these things are dirt cheap, considering the following:
One full recipe as posted makes 20 bierocks which are around 6″x”3″x2″ in a sort of oval bun shape… each contains about 3 to 4 tbsp of filling, which is plenty. – and to get to that point, you’re looking at around a 1.5 pounds of ground beef, a jumbo onion, and a half head of cabbage (some people do kraut instead, or a mixture of kraut and cabbage, I’ve never tried that) – everything else you probably have in the pantry already for the dough. I’d be pretty willing to bet that the cost of 1 batch of bierocks, even if you took 2 per day, would be less spendy than those boxed thingies – and you would know what is in them, and be able to pronounce all the names of the ingredients. No partially hydrogenated high fructose anything in here.
Frankly, I’d try to con her into making a double batch, then toss them in the freezer and then you’d be set for lunch for about a month and a half. about 3 minutes in the nukerwave will take them from frozen to yum.
Sounds good to me. We have a new oven I know she wants to play with… hrm…have to figure out what kind of bribery will be necessary.
Why not just threaten to make them yourself? I mean, sure, its a diabolical tactic, but I bet it would be effective.
BTW – make sure you pick up a squeeze bottle of a nice dijon/country style mustard – as these really must* have mustard.
*just remember, this comes from a person who must have 10 or 12 different types of mustard on hand in order not to feel mustard deprived.
Because I’m not allowed to cook. Ask the Bunny.
The only time I ever saw bierrochen was in Hays, KS. I was in 9th grade in a boarding school, and had no idea what a bierroch was.
I saw plenty of other kids greedily chowing down on bierrochen; some even traded off lesser bits of their lunch to get more. I grew excited; clearly this must be something really special for everyone to forsake their vegetables, their milk, even their dessert just to savor another of these peculiar edible forms.
I approached the lunch counter and beheld a large baking sheet bearing neat rows of heat-darkened bierrochen, each a little larger than their pale, inferior cousins, the dinner rolls, on the adjacent counter.
I received one on my plate from the lunch line. It was roughly spherical and glistening with butter, The outer crust carried the deep rich brown of a well-crafted pastry formed and brushed by expert hands. It looked innocent, pure, like some Platonic form of bread had made a fleeting appearance in this eighty-year-old high school cafeteria.
I heard a voice from the line swoon with joy: “Oooh, Bierrochs!” and the little roll appeared to beam even more as it proudly rested upon my plate. “I am Bierroch!” it seemed to say,”Behold my Steamy Perfection and Despair!”
I cleared the line and found a seat in the dining hall. Carefully I bit into the golden-brown, slightly buttery bread.
The bread by itself was really really tasty.
Then I hit the filling.
I nearly gagged.
The bierroch betrayed me.
What had happened? What dark and twisted mind had engineered this abomination? What piously cruel mind had lighted upon the idea to tuck a portion of sour wrongness into the heart of a thing of such beauty? Was this the meal for which every other kid in Thomas More Prep leapt so voraciuosly? Surely not! My diaphragm in spasms, I put the bierroch down. I could not finish it.
I then thought to myself, perhaps I merely had a bad one. Maybe bierrochen were generally much better, and I had merely drawn the sour lot.
Or, more likely, I was merely surprised, shocked to have found a filling at all. After all, bierrochen looked near enough to dinner rolls that the cognitive dissonance was simply too much to bear. Yes, that must have been it.
Two weeks later I tried another one. This bierroch bore the same appearance, the same image of mealtime perfection as the other bierroch a fortnight before. As every bierroch must.
Again I sampled the delicious bun.
Again I reached the filling.
Again I nearly gagged.
That was just over twenty years ago. I have not had one since.
How about a Kolachi instead?
Were these kraut filled by anychance? What don’t you like about the filling?
Mine are straight up cabbage, pepper, onion, and beef (and garlic, actually, about 2 cloves divided into 20 bierocks)
I’ve never had/seen/heard of a kraut filled variety in Wichita, but I’ve heard of it in general. I can see where kraut might be offputting hidden in sweet, nice, happy bread, for someone who has never had it. If Russ manages to cajole the Bunny into making some, give them (or at least snag some filling) another shot and see if you still dislike it.
Were it just the filled bread, I would be unable to explain why I generally like empanadas, xio pao, and even Forfar bridies. Must be the specific filling. The closest I have had since was either a Krystal or else the airline sandwich on the Heathrow/Aberdeen route. That was so awful that when I read the package in the lunch that read “refreshing towlette” I was inspired to eat the contents. And you what? The package was right!
Yes indeed these were beef and sauerkraut, with something else that served as a kind of binding.
On the subject of sauerkraut, I have tried to like it. Really I have. I graciously accepted dishes that included sauerkraut and gave it an honest effort.
I have since learned that everyone I know seems to like sauerkraut but me. Weird Al’s “Albuquerque” resonates with me.
Take heart, you are not the only one in this world who doesn’t like the ‘kraut. My hubby, the same who loves runzas, can’t stand even the sight of ‘kraut. Its a bit disheartening to me because I love the stuff, especially if its been slow-cooked in a pot with chops, or even better…keilbasa.
I suspect you’ll like these much much better, if you like regular cabbage. When you were in Hays, did anyone ever try to foist upon you the heavily spiced raw ground beef that seems popular up there?
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