Today I celebrated my first Rioplatense tradition (in absentia), Gnocchi Day!
Known in Uruguay as Dia de Noquis, La Gran Uruguaya explains some of the deeper lore in their blog post. Raise your hand if you’re surprised to learn there’s a Uruguayan restaurant in Jackson Heights, Queens. Now slap yourself with that hand. It’s *QUEENS* for heaven’s sake.
In this case, it’s Trader Joe’s gnocchi and dinner rolls, some chicken I steam-roasted with tomato and oregano, romaine with raisins and Italian dressing (because of course Italian for Gnocchi Day), and a wonderful Uruguayan tannat wine which I tracked down in the Wine & Spirits store at Girard and 2nd. Not shown were the milk-chocolate-covered mini pretzels I had later.
My visit to Montevideo last February was a little ill-timed for experiencing my first Gnocchi Day in Uruguay. Even if I’d extended my stay into March instead of coming home on the 25th–no Gnocchi Day. Stupid February with only 28 days! This does pose a question: does the once-every-four-years February Gnocchi Day have special significance or maybe special ingredients? That answer comes soon though, February 2028!
What’s In A Name?
Some would say that gnocchi are essentially dumplings. I agree. Others (me specifically) would also say that every culture leveled up its cuisine after discovering agriculture by inventing beer, bread, pasta, and dumplings. The order is debatable, but the conclusion is not.
Like my heritage dumpling, pierogi, Uruguayans often make their noquis with potato–just more bite-sized. Honestly though, I personally find most non-babushka-made pierogi are technically bite-sized. Just don’t eat them like that in polite company. I also became very conscious of what to call them in said polite company. My Dad said pierogi, and he was the kind of man to be precise about such things. I started seeing the Ukrainian term “varenyky” and wondered why we’d use the “Mrs. T” name instead of the real Ukrainian.
I assumed my Dad always called them pierogi due to family history, because his parents were from near Lviv and the Polish border. I have this clear memory of him talking about translating Polish in a Two Guys department store in New Jersey, so maybe he picked up an amalgam learned from my grandparents. He didn’t know Polish per se, but knew enough to fill in the gaps. So I assumed his side of the family just used one word over the other out of local convention. I was wrong-ish.
Today I learned from Wikipedia that “[a] key distinction made between the Ukrainian varenyky and the Polish pierogi is that the former has thinner, softer dough and traditionally simpler filling, most often only consisting of potato.” If asked if I prefer pierogi or varenyky or dumplings of any kind, the answer is simple. Yes.
Today is Gnocchi Day and ONLY Gnocchi Day
Nothing else important happened today. Do not dispute this. This day is about nothing other than the enjoyment of a new tradition I cannot wait to observe again.
Oh. Fuck.
It’s time for some Earl Grey, hot, before bed. Maybe I’ll add a shot of wodka to calm my nerves. Somebody please bubble-wrap George Takei and Kate Mulgrew because I just can’t take another one right now.
