The New Year's Pierogi Drop – The Restless Viking

As always, Chuck and I seek unusual excitements around the Great Lakes. With USA Today‘s article about the nation’s top ten New Year’s Drops, we found “The Pierogi Drop” in Whiting, Indiana, just south of Chicago. These Polish potato dumplings are most often boiled then fried. Join us for our prolific profile of the nineth annual Pierogi Drop!

Knights of Columbus Hall

Within minutes of our arrival, the Pierogi ladies danced into the Knights of Columbus venue. The three were clad in cotton print dresses, sweaters and kerchiefs. The trio posed for photos as they strutted toward the dance floor.

*The “Underground Prophets,” a versatile 80’s band, entertained the crowd inside the Knights of Columbus venue.*
*We partook in the ‘stick to your ribs’ potato pies and some beverages from the bar.*

In between songs, I approached the the pierogi makers. Two wore curlers under their scarves. “How many pierogies did you make for this event?” I asked. The crowned Babcia (Bob cha), grandmother, in the center gestured with her silver noise maker to the woman with the reading glasses. “Well,” she stated with a smack of her lips, “She and I made all of them two weeks ago.” Then she flipped her horn in the direction of the lady with the blue scarf and raised one eyebrow. “She claimed to be sick, so we had to do all of it!” The blue-scarf woman shook her head with a laugh.

*Chuck sported his New Year attire, while I opted for warm layers, planning ahead for our outdoor excursion.*

“The Rogi Ladies,” which I first thought of as “Rogue ladies,” complimented Chuck’s attire. “Oh, my!” the lady in the middle swooned. “You sure dressed for the occasion.” Curlers bobbed in agreement. When I asked if I could take their photo, the pierogi producer in the middle gave me a shocked look. “Wait!” She glanced side to side, inviting her counterparts to pay attention. “You are with him?” She gestured to Chuck. I slowly nodded wondering where this was going.

“Well,” she smacked. “You . . . are. . . underdressed.” The ‘experienced’ woman punctuated each word. She glanced back at Chuck and then gave me a scaled look from top to bottom, taking in my snow pants and sweatshirt. She tipped her head sideways, pursed her lips and cocked her eyebrow disapprovingly.

I had just been set straight by a Polish woman. In a flash I was four year old again standing on a chair in my Grandma’s kitchen. I remembered having gooey, floured hands and a mess on the floor. My Grandma Bunek walked to the counter and observed my dough debacle, “Marti, that is damn foolishness!” She had scolded.

Well, this Babcia’s gentle judgement had transported me back to my childhood. With my insecurity rising to the surface, I wasn’t about to approach Babcia and repeat my request. I will never know the exact number of delicious potato and cheddar pierogi’s that had been made.

With twenty minutes left on the countdown, I let Chuck know that I was ready to head outside to the pierogi on a pole.

The Polkaholics

Polka music danced through the brisk night. At the intersection of Atchison and 119th Street about two hundred people clustered together for the Pierogi Drop.

Andrew Dybel, Visionary and Organizer

Andrew Dybel, the event organizer, explained, “One year when Channel 7 came to do a live feed they’d asked where all the people were. So, this was the first year we had an outdoor band and increased the number of food trucks to bring people outside.”

“How did The Pierogi Drop begin?” I asked over the phone two days after the event. “Well, we have had Pierogi Fest in the summer for, I think, 26 years. There’s twenty venders and 300,000 people attend. So, a group of us were sitting in the bar eleven years ago and thought why not do a Pierogi Drop?” I could hear Andrew shrug with a genuine smile.

“Did you know we are ranked fourth in the USA Today article?” Andrew radiated energy. “That’s what brought us to Whiting.” I answered. “You’ve made an impressive community gathering! It really brought the city of Whiting together.”

With a laugh I shared my scolding from the Pierogi lady. “There’s actually eight ladies who make the pierogis, but only three came out for the drop.” Andrew informed.

“How many volunteers were there?” I wondered about the people clad in pink safety vests and hard hats labeled, “PIEROGI DROP.” “There were 17 volunteers.” Andrew added, “There’s also Mr. Pierogi, from the Pierogi Fest.” He’s a man dressed as a pierogi. “This was Father Time’s first time playing the part. He did a nice job.” Andrew continued, “We usually have Baby New Year, too. He’s an older man dressed in a diaper, but he had surgery and hasn’t been back since.”

The Countdown

A countdown clock kept time below the lit pierogi. We saw a flash of a man dressed as a pierogi, but didn’t get a photo. Another pair came dressed as snowflakes. Father Time whispered by us several times.

At twenty seconds to twelve, the Polkaholics began the countdown. We all joined in! The Pierogi had started it’s journey at half mast and proceeded to disappear behind the “2025” sign. Paper confetti and butterflies flew into the air! Fireworks lit the sky punctuated with booms and hisses.

*Father Time strode among the crowd. His mere presence gave us pause, knowing the end of 2024 was nearing.*

This small town event is worth the trip! I am always impressed with the dedicated volunteers who carry these celebrations! The “Rogi” ladies, the bands, the ticket takers, the security, the fireworks crew and Father Time, remind us to make the most of each moment!

Wishing you well from Whiting, Indiana! Happy 2025!