Playing Catch-up and the Etymology of "Runza"

Sorry for the delay in posting; it's been a crazy week in the world of work and grad school. I'm writing to you now in between work and night class, so if I start to drift off or sound a bit delirious, let me know in the comments.

It's really too bad that I'm short on time this week, too, because the recipe I really wanted to make this week and post about takes quite a bit of time to do.

I found this Nebraska Beef Buns recipe from a fellow food blogger, Crystal of A Lovin' Forkful. I made it a few months ago and we LOVED it. We loved it so much, in fact, that you say the words "homemade" and "Runza" around either Matt or I (or heaven forbid, say it around us both at the same time) and prepare yourself for an epic storytelling of how tasty these things are. For those of you who are from Nebraska or live here, you know right away that by "Nebraska Beef Buns," I really mean Runzas. For those of you who aren't lucky enough to have connections to the Cornhusker State, Runza means absolutely nothing.

Behold Runza, the only fast food establishment I would be proud to be seen at:

Here's what original Runza "sandwiches" look like (from Crystal's blog post):

Crystal, the food blogger that took this photo, has the BEST Runza recipe!

They are amazing comfort food, like little hugs from Mom wrapped up in a nice toasty bun. Runza sandwiches are usually made with ground beef, cooked cabbage and onions. Yes, the cabbage will smell a bit when it's cooking. Get over it. It's worth it.

We in Nebraska seem to put this German halo around the Runza, like it was mailed straight from Berlin and shoved into a plastic Runza wrapper or something. My question, though, is how authentic is the Runza, really? Does the "traditional German" halo hold any weight?

Well, yes and no.

According to trusty Wikipedia, "Runza" is the trademarked American adaptation of the Russian/Polish "bierock," a pastry stuffed to the crust with meat and cabbage. Major yummage. The sandwich eventually found its way to Germany as some Russians moved west. But since nothing in the good old U-S-of-A can be successful without a side of fries and a drink, the Runza we know and love today has departed from its Eastern European roots, partnered up with crinkle fries and Pepsi, and found strong footing in the Cornhusker State.

Whelp, looks like I'm out of blogging time. Gotta run to class! I'll post again very soon. Until then, TRY THAT RUNZA RECIPE! You won't regret it!