Is New Orleans Finally Ready to Embrace Kolaches?

When Martin Pospíšil tasted his first kolache in the American South, it didn’t resemble the koláč — sweet pastries with fillings like fruit and poppyseed — baked by his family matriarchs for dessert in the small Czech town of Svitavy.

Instead, while driving through the Czech American city of West in Texas, he encountered breakfast sausage rolls, stuffed with cheese and jalapeños. They curiously went by the name kolaches, although they were akin to another Czech dish, párek v rohlíku: sausage in bread. Pospíšil has noticed those savory kolaches finally entered the New Orleans food scene, too — in spite of its modest Czech population — after living in the Crescent City for the past 14 years.

“I love American kolaches, and, of course, I love those traditional [kolaches] that I know that my grandma or mom used to make,” Pospíšil says. “They’re just two different things.”

Randy Schmidt/Eater NOLA

There’s confusion and conflicting opinions about this Czech American pastry and its legacy, ranging from purist outrage about breaking with culinary traditions to delight over its evolution. The meaty variations are beloved by Louisianans who frequent Shipley Do-Nuts and Kolache Kitchen in Baton Rouge (now called the Dough House), but many don’t know the history behind kolaches. “In Louisiana, it’s a lot harder than places like Texas. There’s not that many of us [Czechs] here,” says Pospíšil, who is the Honorary Consul of the Czech Republic.

Since relocating to New Orleans in 2010, Pospíšil noticed more savory kolaches for sale throughout the city. Still, he doesn’t think the food will rise to the same iconic status as king cakes. But “I think they’ve been very popular already,” he says. “People like sweet pastry, and, in my mind, these are better and healthier than American doughnuts.”

Czechs started immigrating to Louisiana in 1720. By the 19th century, large swaths were building settlements in Texas, Wisconsin, Nebraska, Oklahoma, and other predominantly Midwestern states. Before bakeries like West’s Village Bakery sold sweet kolaches to the public in the mid-20th century, women usually baked them at home and for community gatherings. Kolaches were traditionally round, and small-curd cottage cheese was a standard filling, says Dawn Orsak, a fourth-generation Texas Czech. She’s working on a book manuscript provisionally titled Kolach Culture: Cooking in Texas Czech Kitchens, which is set to publish with the University of Texas Press.

Randy Schmidt/Eater NOLA

Over time, Texans started to shape kolaches into squares. They also contributed to another major change: saying kolaches incorrectly, Orsak says. Kolach is singular, and kolache is plural, so, by adding an “s,” it becomes a double-plural. Then, Orsak says, there’s klobásník — meat wrapped in sweet kolache dough. Czech Texans also made those rolls, which are comparable to pigs in a blanket.

Shipley Do-Nuts is a Houston-based chain established in 1936, specializing in savory kolaches. Executive chef Kaitlyn Venable, 35, refers to the style as “Tex-Czech.” They were added to the menu in 1997. Today, it’s a top product, falling only behind its hot glazed doughnut, Venable says. Shipley uses a yeast dough to create numerous kolache combinations, with ingredients including sausage, cheese, jalapeño, egg, ham, and bacon. “Occasionally, we will get: ‘It’s not a real kolache!’” Venable says. “It’s our version of it. It’s delicious — please try it.”

Louisiana is home to eight Shipley locations, and the oldest opened in 1963 in Monroe. The state is the brand’s No. 3 market behind Texas at No. 1 and Arkansas at No. 2. In New Orleans, however, Chris Audler, owner of District Donuts Sliders Brew, has the kolache market cornered — although he doesn’t want to claim it, referring to the potential monopoly as “a bad thing” if true. That’s because Audler wants more restaurant owners to peddle the hot commodity.

District opened its first outpost on Magazine Street in 2013 with kolaches on the menu. At the register, customers often asked Audler how to pronounce the word. The breakfast pastries were initially offered in two savory styles and one fruit-filled style, featuring satsuma curd. “Believe it or not, the fruit didn’t sell,” says Audler, a Belle Chasse native. “People really wanted the meat one with smoked sausage.” They remind him of the fruit and meat kolaches baked in Port Lavaca, Texas, by his great-grandmother — whose Czech maiden name, Pekar, translates to “baker.” She and Audler’s great-grandfather immigrated from Czechoslovakia. Audler still has his great-grandmother’s recipes, although he’s since developed his own.

His recipe begins with an enriched, slightly sweet yeast dough (and a dash of vanilla). After it proofs, he rolls the dough into balls, forming 2-ounce discs. Then, he wraps the dough around smoked sausage, white cheddar, and candied jalapeños to create his longest-running kolache. He repeats the process with bacon, American cheese, and scrambled egg for another variation. Once the pastries proof, they’re brushed with egg wash and baked. During Lent, District offers kolaches with smoked salmon and cream cheese (flavored with capers and Tabasco green jalapeño pepper sauce), sprinkled with everything bagel seasoning.

But choosing to sell kolaches at District — a brand that now encompasses five New Orleans area locations and one in Las Vegas — was less of a cultural homage and more of a smart business decision. “I always found it odd that New Orleans, being so close to Houston, really didn’t have a lot of kolache options,” Audler says. “I was like, ‘No one else is doing it really, so we have to do that.’”

Across his locations, the team makes between three to six dozen of each kolache type daily. “We kill on kolaches,” Audler says. “We can’t make enough.”

However, he still views kolaches as a food firmly rooted in Texas. For almost a century, Louisianans have immigrated to Texas and vice versa. In the 1940s, Cajuns left Acadiana to resettle in southeastern Texas and work in booming industries like petroleum during the World War II era, according to an article by Jason Theriot in Louisiana History: The Journal of the Louisiana Historical Association. More recently, during the first two years of the COVID-19 pandemic, over 31,200 Louisiana residents moved to the Lone Star State, while almost 18,000 Texas residents relocated next door to Sportsman’s Paradise, think tank Texas 2036 reported. Immigrants — international and stateside — tend to bring their customs with them, including culinary traditions. Today, Audler thinks the savory kolache now occupies its own niche in New Orleans cuisine.

Marlene Kramel

Marlene Kramel

Travelers and locals in search of those elusive sweet kolaches elsewhere in Louisiana need look no further than the Czech American communities of Libuse and Kolin in Rapides Parish. Kolaches are sold by residents like Marlene Kramel every March at Libuse’s annual Czech Heritage Days Festival.

Kramel has lived in Libuse since 1989 when she and her late husband, Glenn, built their house on his family’s land. His Czech grandfather, a pioneer, helped establish the community, Kramel says. For Glenn, Kramel learned how to make sauerkraut, dumplings, and kolaches, using his cousin’s recipe. Together, Kramel and her spouse baked countless batches. “My freezer was always full of kolaches,” she says.

Marlene Kramel

They would let the yeast dough rise, punch it down and roll it into balls. They would make an indentation in the center of each piece of dough and fill it with cream cheese and strawberry topping — a Kramel family favorite. Although Glenn’s grandmother made crisp and dry kolaches on her wooden stove, Kramel makes hers large, soft, and round. And she’s passed it down to the next generation: Kramel taught her four granddaughters how to make them, too.

She’s satisfied that the custom will live on. “They’re doing a good job,” she says. “They make some pretty good kolaches.”

Marlene Kramel