Um . . .
. . . I can put wings on 'em if you want. . . somehow. 
Tripler
Pigeon meat? Interesting.
In Russian they’re golubtsy, and in at least one Ukrainian dialect they’re holubtsi.
My Grandmom makes 'em in sweet-and-sour tomato sauce, with beef and rice instead of pork (the Jewish version, of course), with cranberries for the sour part and golden raisins for the sweet part, and a bit of ginger and nutmeg. Her family, if my research is accurate, is from the very southern edge of Poland, in the mountains just over the border from Slovakia. She vcalls them *praakes, * which is typical for her dialect of Yiddish.
Whatever you call 'em, they’re delicious, and I haven’t made them in ages! Maybe it’s time…plus if you get carried away and end up with leftovers, they freeze really well.
All right, so if Trip is making the golabki, who’s gonna make the haluski for the vegetarians in the mix?
Do I have to volunteer for it?
Oh, all right. So long as you don’t mind that I use a lot of onions and add some red cabbage just for kicks!
Golabki can be made vegetarian and are, in fact, for Christmas even when they’re stuffed with a mixture of rice and mushrooms.
Incidentally, they’re also called toltott kaposzta (I’m omitting a bunch of diacryticals there) in Hungarian. There they’re also served with sour cream, paprika, and often smoked sausage.
misstee:
I thank you a lot for your offer. I am getting out of here within two weeks; however, I do have some people that will be here for a lot long if you are still interested. Drop me an e-mail and I’ll be sure to get you their addresses. Thanks =)
I’d hate to make you all salivate like Pavlov’s dog, but I will . . . 
Ooooh, I just added a bunch of fresh mushrooms to the pot and reheated 1/3 of a batch for dinner–I must say that garlicky goodness rocks!! I don’t know who the hell “invented” these things, but I’d go back in time just to hug 'em.
I only make 'em once a year, but if you’re lucky, I’ll bring a batch to Camp Cecil.
Tripler
Ooooh, the tomatoes and bacon. Mmmmmmmmmmm.
WOOOOOO HOOOO
I can bring puppy chow to Camp Cecil.
I love puppy chow.
Dear Lord woman! :eek:
Are you comparing a time-honored, cherished family recipe to dog food? :eek: 
That’s it. No bonfire for you! :mad:
Tripler
I grew up on this stuff! To flat out unreasonably insult it is to insult me! :mad:
[sub]I know it’s a typo. I’m just giving you crap[/sub]
How come no one said the rice needed to be cooked before you add it to the meat mix?
Because that’s how grandma-written recipes are…you’re just supposed to know that sort of thing instinctively.
Reminds me of the time I had promised to bring a noodle kugel to a brunch, and realized the night before that I had no recipe. So of course I called up Grandmom and told her I was having a kugel emergency, and was in dire need of her assistance. Grandmom pulled out her recipe card file and started dictating…I scribbled away madly, egg noodles, sour cream, cottage cheese, eggs…salivating the whole time. About 80% of the way through, Grandmom stops and says, “Wait a minute, that’s not the recipe I use!” Pull out another index card, repeat process. About five times.
Finally, we get all the way through a recipe, and she is convinced it’s the one she actually uses. We start chatting about other things, and then it hits me…”But Grandmom, what about the apples? The cinnamon? The golden raisins?”
Her response: “Oh, come on, Eva, you know all that stuff!”
(I didn’t of course…how many raisins? What kind of apples? Apparently she thinks this stuff is passed down via DNA.)
That explains this:
When I was done, I put one aside to try, packed the rest in a casserole dish my grandmother used to use, and put them in the fridge to reheat for dinner tonight.
Got everything cleaned up, put away, and went to try out the sample.
When I realized the whole batch was ruined, my mom laughed and said “You didn’t know you had to cook the rice?” Well, no, I figured it’d cook with the meat. I was pissed! All that work for nothing!
As I pulled my grandmother’s casserole dish out of the fridge to throw away its contents, I dropped it, and spilled sauce, meat, cabbage, etc. all over the floor bottom shelf of the refrigerator. My mom shook her head, laughed harder, and said “That was your grandmother’s way of saying ‘That’s what you get for using raw rice!’”
That’s okay. . .
One year, back when I first started making them for Christmas dinner at home, I bought ground beef, pork, and veal, and put ‘em in the fridge. A day later, I come back and get everything set up to start makin’ 'em. I look in the fridge, and all my meat is gone.
“Hey Mom, have you seen my ground meat for my holubki?”
Mom sez, “Well, I knew dinner was going to be a little early, so I went ahead and cooked the meat for you already!” :eek:
Mom’s from the German/Irish side of the family, and she never learned the recipe. So, I had to go back to the store and pick up fresh meat. We had tacos for two nights in a row after that. . .
Tripler
Oh well. Gotta love your mom anyway. . .
well, my mom’s Slovene, and she calls that dish stuffed cabbage. (she hasn’t spoken the language for 50 years…I’ll have to call her sisters and ask what it is in Slovene)
My mom also does that “you should know” thing with recipes. My worst disaster was with baked beans…nowhere on the recipe card she’d used for years did it say to cover with water while baking. We had crunchy little nuggets after hours of cooking.
She made liver dumplings yesterday to go in the turkey soup…oooh, I wonder if I could go sneak a bowl now?