Even through the steady rain, the smell of fresh-baked pączki drifts through the air, guiding people toward the doors of Pticek’s & Son Bakery. The scent of fried dough, sweet fruit fillings, and powdered sugar is enough to shake off the early-morning grogginess. Whether bleary-eyed or wide awake, tired or not, one thing is certain—Fat Tuesday will be done right.
A crowd has already formed, umbrellas bobbing as people shift from foot to foot, hands buried in pockets, waiting for the doors to open. Some chat quietly, others scroll on their phones, but all are there for the same reason—pączki. Inside, the bakery is a whirlwind of movement. The team pulls golden, pillowy pastries from fryers, pipes them with rich custards and fruit jams, and dusts them with sugar. It’s Pączki Day, and for one morning each year, these Polish pastries become the main event.
Pączki (ponch-kee) are a big deal in Polish culture but often get butchered in pronunciation and spelling. The word has an ogonek (a little tail) under the “a” in Polish, and “pączki” is plural—a single one is a “pączek” (ponch-eck). Despite what you might hear, they’re not “punchkees,” a mistake that Polish bakers are always quick to correct.
At Pticek’s & Son Bakery, the team had been working tirelessly since 2 a.m. to keep up with demand. Guadalupe Laurel, Antoinette Wingo, Arlene “R” Wilus, Mary Hanser, and Gina Albergo (who’s been with the bakery for eight months) were among those rolling, filling, and piping the delicate pastries as customers streamed through the doors.
“Oh, we had hundreds of orders to pack in advance,” said Antoinette Wingo. “It’s our busiest day of the year, no question.”
The wet sidewalks and gloomy skies didn’t deter anyone. “I just left in the rain at 5:30 a.m. to get here,” said Cindy Kosiek, standing under her dripping umbrella.
For some, Pączki Day is an annual ritual; for others, it’s their first taste of the tradition.
Barbara Rendak, a self-proclaimed pączki expert, has been making the trip to the bakery for 50 years. “Do I have to tell my age?” she joked. “The fresh strawberry is my favorite, but the custard with chocolate is great, too. Honestly, they’re all good—it just depends on what you like.”
Elisa Peña has been celebrating Pączki Day for nearly two decades. “I remember first coming here when I was really young,” she said. “For me, the fresh fruit flavors—especially strawberry—are the best.”
For first-timers, the key is to be adventurous. “Don’t be afraid to try new flavors,” said Christopher Bozarth, a regular at the bakery. “I used to stick to just one, but they’re all amazing.”
Mary McCormick, standing in line with her sister Janine McCormick and their mother, Wanda Paul, smiled as she looked around at the bustling bakery. “No matter how you pronounce it, it’s a neighborhood staple,” she said.
Joyce Caulfield has fond memories of visiting the bakery as a teenager. “I used to go to high school nearby, and we’d come here every day for four years,” she said. “Chocolate custard was my go-to. Now, I pick up a dozen for my son and grandkids.”
For Caulfield, the tradition is more than just about the pastries—it’s about the people. One of the bakery’s employees, Arlene “R” Wilus, has been a close friend since childhood. “We grew up just a couple of houses away from each other, and our mothers were best friends,” Caulfield said. “R was even my bridesmaid! So, of course, I keep coming back.”
For others, the tradition starts young—very young. Alexis McGleam brought her daughter, who turns 1 at the end of the month, to try her first pączki. “She’s getting a treat before her birthday cake because it’s Fat Tuesday, after all,” McGleam said, laughing.
Pączki flavors range from classic to unexpected. The bakery’s offerings include strawberry, blueberry, raspberry, custard, cherry, almond, apricot, apple, and even whipped cream-filled varieties.
So what’s the safest flavor for a first-timer? “Strawberry,” said one customer without hesitation. “It’s a classic—you can’t go wrong.”
As boxes stacked up and trays emptied, the line never seemed to shrink—proof that, rain or shine, nothing could dampen the neighborhood’s love for a good pączki.
