Polish Sausage and Veggies

Christmas morning was quiet. Not the quiet of emptiness but the quiet of fullness — a house so full of the right people that the noise was gentle, the chaos was kind, the morning was exactly what mornings are supposed to be on December 25: slow, warm, wrapped in paper and ribbon and the smell of coffee and the sound of a ten-year-old in llama pajamas discovering that Santa brought the art supply kit she wanted, which Santa did because Santa reads the Amazon wish list that Josie 'accidentally' left on the family computer.

Justin came downstairs with a wrapped gift for me. Not a store gift — a homemade gift. A photograph, framed. The photograph was Darla, holding baby Justin, taken in 2007, the year before everything. Justin found it in the box of photos I keep in the closet, the box I look through when I need to see Darla's face, and he had it printed and framed and the frame said 'Family' at the bottom, and the word 'Family' under the picture of my dead sister holding the boy I raised is the most accurate use of a word I have ever seen. I did not cry on Christmas morning. I held the frame and I held Justin and I held the morning, and the holding was the crying, and the morning held us back.

New Year's Eve we stayed home. The kids were asleep by 10 except Amber, who stayed up with Dave and me and watched the ball drop on TV, and at midnight we clinked glasses of sparkling cider and Amber said, 'Good riddance, 2020,' and I said, 'Amen,' and Dave said nothing because Dave rings in the new year the way he does everything: by being present and letting the moment speak for itself.

I made black-eyed peas for New Year's Day — the Southern tradition, for luck, because luck is a thing I believe in the same way I believe in weather: it happens whether you believe in it or not, so you might as well eat the peas. Black-eyed peas, ham hock, rice, cornbread. The kids ate it without complaint, which is the New Year's miracle.

After the black-eyed peas and the rice and the cornbread were gone, the kids still needed feeding by dinnertime — because that’s the thing about New Year’s Day that nobody warns you about when they hand down the traditions: luck doesn’t fill bellies past 2 p.m. This Polish Sausage and Veggies skillet is what I reach for when I want something that’s honest and warm and requires almost nothing from me, which is exactly what January 1st asks of a meal. Amber helped me slice the sausage while Dave watched football, and for an hour the kitchen smelled like something worth staying in for.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb Polish kielbasa, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 red bell pepper, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 green bell pepper, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

Par-cook the potatoes. Bring a small pot of salted water to a boil. Add the cubed potatoes and cook for 6–7 minutes until just barely fork-tender but not soft. Drain and set aside.
Brown the sausage. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large cast iron or nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the kielbasa slices in a single layer and cook 2–3 minutes per side until deeply browned. Transfer to a plate.
Cook the potatoes. In the same skillet, add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Add the drained potatoes in a single layer and cook undisturbed for 3–4 minutes until golden on one side, then stir and cook 2–3 minutes more. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
Sauté the vegetables. Push the potatoes to the edge of the pan. Add the onion and bell peppers to the center and cook 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened and beginning to caramelize at the edges. Add the garlic, smoked paprika, and garlic powder and stir everything together for 1 minute until fragrant.
Combine and finish. Return the browned kielbasa to the skillet and toss everything together. Cook 2–3 minutes more until the sausage is heated through and all the flavors have come together. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve. Scatter the fresh parsley over the top and serve hot, directly from the skillet.

Nutrition (per serving)

Polish Sausage and Veggies — A New Year’s Table Built on Luck and Love