Pierogies in a city famous for po-boys and gumbo was not something I expected to find, let alone book a table for. The cottage sits on a quiet corner with a wooden sign that makes it look like someone’s house. The dining room holds maybe ten tables. The kitchen is visible from most seats.
When the pierogies arrived, the dough was thin enough to see the filling through it, browned on one side, plus served with sour cream that I dragged every piece through.
I ordered a second round before finishing the first. The menu changes with the seasons, but the pierogies stay…