Greetings from Knishland

knishes, like people, come in all shapes, colors and flavors

These are knishes.

And I’m Laura Silver, friend of the downtrodden, the underdog and the overlooked. Native New Yorker and citizen knish eater since childhood.

What exactly is a knish, you ask?

Lots of variations, but basically it’s a pillow of dough stuffed with onion-strewn mashed potatoes. Or buckwheat groats (“kasha,” in the Yiddish tradition), spinach, meat, cabbage, liver, and,  in most cases — memories. It was invented as a way to preserve leftovers and to this day the knish is a repository of stories, nostalgia, and a place to park hopes for the future.

And it could use some preserving of its own.

I’m hot on the knish trail, from Coney Island to Knyszyn, Poland. On this blog I’ll share excerpts from my research and writings: everyday eats and startling finds, from stories that mine the superficial to tales of loss and identity and belonging and all that stuff that usually stays stuffed inside.

But I’m not here just to dish secrets or spill my guts.

True, knish is slang for women’s privates — a fascinating subtext and something I’ll address in more detail at some point. But fore the record, I’m interested in all incarnations of the word, the food, the feeling, the movement, and the land.

Knishland, as far as I can tell, is a place where everyone is welcome. Come on in. I’ve been waiting for you.