Changes

[[File:Krakowskie Precle Złote Tarasy.jpg|thumb|A stand selling "``Cracow pretzels" at the Golden Terraces shopping mall in Warsaw]]

In a few shopping malls and other places in Warsaw you can find stands like the one pictured here, selling what the sign claims to be ''krakowskie precle'', or "``Cracow pretzels". Intriguingly, [http://krakowskieprecle.pl/o-firmie the company that distributes them in Warsaw] proudly boats that these "``pretzels" are shipped each morning straight from Mr. Czaja’s bakery in Cracow. But if we take a look at [http://malafirma.pl/piekarnia/pieczywo1.html Mr. Grzegorz Czaja's bakery website,] we’ll see that what he bakes there is not pretzels, but something called ''obwarzanki'' (pronounced: {{pron|awb|vah|zhan|kee}}). It seems as though the ''obwarzanki'' magically turned into pretzels the moment they arrive in Warsaw! Can we chalk it up to merely yet another linguistic difference between Cracovian and Warsovian Polish? Or is there a more profound distinction between pretzels and ''obwarzanki''?

"``Pretzels, "``bagels" and "``''obwarzanki''" `` are all used by tourists and native Cracovians alike to refer to the specifically Cracovian bread which "``takes the form of an oval with a hole in the middle" and whose "``surface is formed by strands of dough twisted into a spiral".<ref>Description of the product according to: [https://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN/TXT/?uri=CELEX:52010XC0216(01) Publication of an application pursuant to Article 6(2) of Council Regulation (EC) No 510/2006 on the protection of geographical indications and designations of origin for agricultural products and foodstuffs (2010/C 38/08), EC No: PL-PGI-005-0674,] Official Journal of the European Union</ref> Although unique to Cracow, it nonetheless belongs to the great diverse family of holey breads. So let’s take a&nbsp;look at the bigger picture now.

Dry ''taralli'' were used in a&nbsp;similar way as the ancient ''buccellata'' in that they could be stored for up to half a&nbsp;year and then eaten after being dunked in wine for softening. Were these toroidal ''taralli'' inspired by the Arab ''ka'ak'', brought by Levantine sailors to Apulian ports? Quite possibly, but we don’t know that for sure. Whatever the case, soon after the ''taralli'' had appeared in southern Italy, similar breads were being made in the north. They bore a&nbsp;plethora of regional names, including ''"``bricuocoli", "``ciaramilie", "``pane del marinaio", "``mescuotte", "``ciambelle", "``ciambelloni", "``braciatelle", "``brazzatelle"'' and ''"``brasadèle"''<ref>{{Cyt

}}</ref> (the latter three are reminiscent of ''"``braccialetto"'', the Italian word for "``bracelet"; ultimately, both ''"``braciatella"'' and ''"``braccialetto"'' derive from Latin ''"``bracchium"'', meaning "``arm").

The Italian "``''la brazzatella''" `` sounds quite similar to the German ''"``die Brezel"''… Or is it ''"``das Brezel"''? Or ''"``der Brezel"''? German speakers can’t agree on the grammatical gender of their pretzels. The jury is also out on whether the first "``e" in this word is long or short (as in ''"``der/die/das Bretzel"''). There are also those, mostly in Bavaria and Austria, who call it ''"``die Brezen"'' (or ''"``der Brezen"''). Or even ''"``die Brezg"'', as they say along the Bavarian-Swabian border.<ref> {{Cyt

Modern Polish cuisine is often described as combining two historical strains: on the one hand, the peasant cuisine, the poor, simple fare based on local and readily available ingredients; and on the other, the lordly cuisine of the nobility, sumptuous, abundant, exotic and following the rule, "``pawn all, but give a ball". This view is somewhat oversimplified, though. Firstly, what people ate and drank had more to do with their actual income than the estate they were born into (for example, a&nbsp;relatively well-to-do peasant could eat just as well as a&nbsp;medium-income nobleman). And secondly, believe it or not, there were other social groups in Poland than just the peasantry and the nobility. Polish townsfolk, for instance, used to eat too, but they tend to be forgotten when historical Polish cuisine is being discussed. One reason for this may be that Polish towns were mostly populated by ethnic Germans and Jews, so their culinary heritage hasn’t been included in the canon of ethnic Polish cuisine, which is mostly rural as a&nbsp;result. But there are at least two domains in which the culinary legacy of Polish towns has survived; these are beer brewing and bread baking. Sure, breweries and bakeries existed in the countryside as well, but it was the urban ones that were famous throughout the nation. The importance of urban bakers is still reflected today in the popularity of Poznań crescent rolls, Toruń gingerbread, Lublin onion pastries and yes, Cracovian ''obwarzanki''.

The oldest known mention of the latter comes from the 14th century. A&nbsp;royal-court book of accounts from the times of Queen Hedwig and King Vladislaus Jagailo has the following expense recorded under the date 2 March 1394: "``''pro circulis obarzankij'', for the Queen – one penny." The Latin word ''"``circulis"'' shows that the breads in question were already round at the time. And the Polish word (''"``obwarzanki"'' in modern spelling), shows that they were parboiled (''obwarzane'') before baking. Just like pretzels, these were lean and luxury goods at the same time,<ref>Balinska, ''op. cit.'', p. 14</ref> which made them the perfect choice for the royal table during Shrovetide, which happened to include the 2 March that year. [[Packages of Goodness#Fat Days|Shrovetide]] was a&nbsp;pre-Lenten period of optional fasting. According to the ledger record from that particular day, Queen Hedwig, who would be later declared Saint Hedwig, ate one penny worth of ''obwarzanki'' and three pence worth of salted herrings, while the visiting Duchess of Masovia, who wasn’t that keen of fasting, was served chicken instead.<ref>{{ Cyt

Production of luxury goods has always been a&nbsp;lucrative business, so it’s no wonder that the guild of bakers sought to monopolize the sale of ''obwarzanki'' within the city walls of Cracow. They achieved this goal in 1496, when King John Albert issued a&nbsp;decree restricting the production of white bread (including ''obwarzanki'') to guild members. What’s more, ''obwarzanki'' could only be baked during Lent. This law was somewhat relaxed in 1720 (baking allowed on all lean days throughout the year, not just in Lent) and eventually abolished only in the mid-19th century. Naturally, not all bakers would follow these rules. Until 1561, there were bakeries in the northern suburbs of Cracow whose owners didn’t belong to the guild. The English language doesn’t really seem to have a&nbsp;word for this kind of outside-the-guild craftsman; he would have been called ''"``partacz"'' in Polish and ''"``Pfuscher"'' in German, both of which may be roughly translated as "``botcher" or "``bungler". As you can imagine, relations between guild members and the "``bunglers" were about as cordial as those between taxi and Uber drivers, and they got most heated when the guild bakers eventually burned the "``bunglers' " bakeries down.<ref>{{ Cyt

You can find similar breads even further east, where the word ''"``obwarzanek"'' has evolved into ''"``baranka"''. Apart from ''baranki'', the East Slavs (Russians, Belarusians and Ukrainians) also bake the slightly larger ''bubliki'' and the slightly smaller ''sushki''. The ''bubliki'' have made a&nbsp;particularly interesting career not only in the culinary realm, but also in song and literature. Mostly as a&nbsp;symbol of poverty; bakers may have been relatively well off, but the peddlars who distributed the ''bubliki'' earned next to nothing. The only thing worth less than a&nbsp;''bublik'' was the ''bublik'' hole.

| oryg = <poem><p dir="rtl;" style="text-align: right; font-style: normal;">נו, קױפֿט זשע בובליטשקי,

Up to the mid-20th century all of their customers were Jewish too. For New York Jews, a&nbsp;sandwich of bagel schmeared with cream cheese and garnished with lox was the foundation of a&nbsp;typical Sunday breakfast. But the 1960s eventually saw a&nbsp;revolution in the bagel business, brought about by technological progress. First, the Lender brothers, whose father had been a&nbsp;bagel baker back in Lublin, discovered that consumers couldn’t tell between a&nbsp;fresh bagel and a&nbsp;defrosted one. Then they leased a&nbsp;bagel-making machine invented by the Canadian Daniel Thompson. The bakers no longer had to work all night long to make enough bagels for the Sunday morning peak. Frozen machine-produced bagels started to show up in supermarkets – also in gentile neighbourhoods. Within a&nbsp;decade, Local 338’s war against machines ended with the same result the Cracovian guild of bakers’ fight against the "``bunglers" eventually did. Today, both the guild and the trade union are gone, just like the idea of a&nbsp;bagel as a&nbsp;local, ethnic and hand-made bread product.

<gallery style="text-align:left;" widths=300px>