If you’re ever in Pagosa Springs or Creede, Colorado, go to a Mexican restaurant named Kip’s Grill and order the most expensive thing on the menu. Then tell them that Mr. Pilewski sent you.
The specialty of the house, number 9 on the menu, is called The Pilewski. It’s three flour tortillas, stuffed with pork barbacoa, provolone cheese and chipotle, and topped with chile verde, shredded cheese, avocado and jalapeño peppers.
That’s exactly what I would order in any restaurant — hot and spicy, too. You could say it’s got my name all over it. And so now I’m famous! I’m a legend in my own lunchtime.
Travelers to the area wrote on their blog that
We enjoyed a tasty evening at Kip’s Grill, where #9, The Pilewski, was the crowd favorite.
Fairness requires me to mention the following, though. The dish was named — as far as I know — not for your favorite columnist, but more likely for a second cousin of mine who lives in Pagosa Springs. A cousin of ours became aware of it when he got a postcard from his neighbors, who had eaten at the restaurant.
The American side of our extended family is quite small, and because we have such an unusual name, we lay collective ownership to things like this. It’s our reward for not having changed or “simplified” our name when we came to America — even though many Americans have trouble spelling and pronouncing it.
Change your name, change your history
Some of our relatives did cave in and change “Pilewski” to “Polaski”. Others changed “Krusevicius” to “Krush” and “Walentowski” to “Wallen”.
I’m happy to be in Germany, where people can spell my name — but when I tell them I’m American, I hear, “Pilewski: That’s not an American name.”
My answer is always the same: “You mean it’s not an English name. Every name is an American name.” Remember that.
Our story was the same as that of most Americans. Our ancestors came to the New World to get away from poverty, overcrowding and family squabbles, and find new opportunities in a nation of immigrants.
But the name is what connects us to the Old World. Before we were peasants, we were nobles, rewarded by the Polish king for our help in fighting the Germans in the 14th century. On the land he gave us, we built estates and a fortified settlement. The name “Pilewski” means “someone from the fortified area”.
How nice that we didn’t change our name to please somebody else. We’d never have known that. Nor would we have found the bond to each other that our small extended family has.
There are a lot of Polaskis out there, but you won’t find them on the menu.
