This article was written and submitted by Mary Thiessen with pictures taken by Bruno Penner:
They come to mix, roll, squeeze and pinch two mornings in April.
Fifteen or twenty they come; almost too many, so they take turns.
They come from Wheatley, Harrow, Kingsville, Leamington, and even from Ann Arbor, Michigan, to partake in this annual ritual.
Some come mainly to visit, to take long yummy coffee and conversation breaks, to take pictures and even make movies.
“Who took the last piece of Apfel Platz? I’ve only had two so far.”
They (we), come, the somewhat infirm and more or less firm (as well as can be expected considering our age).
We elbow each other out of the way, vying for space at the tables and counter tops.
There’s a certain amount of reasonably good natured bickering that goes on during the April morning “compiling” work.
“Roll that out a little thinner, we’ve had complaints about some of these being too doughy!”
“Hey, you pinchers! Make sure your vereneke are sealed well. It’s such a mess if they open when they’re being boiled”.
“Where’s the squeezer? We’re waiting for some cottage cheese here. Is he off having another coffee break?”
How did it begin, this ritual dating back some twenty or thirty years?
It was the brainchild of two ambitious couples – Eleanor and Alf Driedger and Alice and Ernie Toews. They agreed to open a Vereneke booth at the Mennonite Community Sale first held in the old arena in Leamington. Later the venue was moved to UMEI. Sadly, we lost both Alice and Eleanor to cancer, and they are sorely missed.
We make about six thousand of these little critters, and at the June sale we usually sell out in three hours.
However the tradition goes on and seems to become more of a social event every year, as many hands make a light load.
Besides the compiling of the vereneke, there’s some preparatory, behind the scenes work – buying the ingredients (flour, eggs, cottage cheese, sour cream etc.), hunting for the best possible prices since we have that thrifty Mennonite ethic bred into us, cooking many pails of rich sauce to be ladled onto these delicacies, finding volunteers to set up, cook and sell on the morning of the sale.
And so it goes. Like good friends, like family
A big job that unites us, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
