Prof. Kamil Śmiechowski from the Faculty of Philosophy and History at the University of Lodz is clear: today’s version of the holiday is heavily “formatted” by the market. We know what we’re supposed to dd – buy a doughnut, eat crispy fried dough, complete the ritual. However in the past, the meaning of Fat Thursday was rooted in the calendar of life, not in the calendar of promotions.
Before a premium doughnut, there was fasting and hunger
In tradition, Fat Thursday is not a lonely island of sweetness. It is the gateway to Lent – a time of abstinence, but also, very often, a time of real scarcity. Prof. Śmiechowski reminds us that fasting wasn’t always a matter of moral renewal. Sometimes it was simply the result of having less food, and winter or the early spring period could be tough.
Now imagine Lodz from 100 years ago or earlier. A city where most residents counted pennies, not calories. In such a place, Fat Thursday could not look like today’s festival of fillings.
Working‑class Lodz. More modest than we’d like to remember
Lodz was, above all, a working‑class city, and the way people celebrated depended largely on their wealth. Ordinary residents did not hold doughnut‑eating competitions – resources were limited. A doughnut was not a human right but a luxury you sometimes hunted for or had to replace.
And here comes a delicious (though surprising to today’s palate) history lesson. Doughnuts weren’t always sweet. Historical accounts mention doughnuts filled with bacon – fatty and hearty. And when times were tough, doughnuts could disappear entirely and be replaced by substitutes – pastries made from carrots or potatoes, just to get a hint of sweetness.
Two types of Lodz in one day
However, Lodz was also a city of contrasts. Alongside the working‑class everyday life there were factory owners’ salons, middle‑class aspirations, and a world that could afford excess.
In this second Lodz, the doughnut had a completely different biography. It was a part of a lifestyle. The wealthy and the middle class used well‑run patisseries, where sweets were available all year, and Fat Thursday was a chance to eat something special.
This is where the Roszkowski patisserie enters the stage – a renowned establishment already in the 19th century, located on Piotrkowska Street (near today’s intersection with Moniuszki). It wasn’t just a display case with cakes. The place was grand, operated across several floors and even had billiards. A doughnut? Yes – but as part of an entire world of bourgeois entertainment.
Interestingly, Prof. Śmiechowski notes another point: even in the homes of Lodz factory owners, Fat Thursday didn’t have to be religious (Lodz was multi-denominational and the elites weren’t always Catholic). And yet the custom persisted. Because community, trends and the need for shared rituals can be stronger than differences.
Queues? Yes – but not always in front of patisseries
Today, when we think of Fat Thursday, we imagine queues outside bakeries. In the past – things could look different. Accounts suggest that doughnuts were even sold outside factories. It was very typical for Lodz. Sweetness goes where the city’s rhythm beats – to work, not necessarily to the promenade.
Then came the 20th century and the major chapter of the PRL era – a time remembered for queues for almost everything good. In Lodz, these memories have a particular flavour – in an economy of scarcity, Fat Thursday became a moment when authorities liked to show: “There is enough. Everything works.”
Conversations also recall the legendary Horteks on Piotrkowska, associated by many residents with exceptional sweets. And there are memories of Maria Granowska’s long‑running private patisserie (Piotrkowska 56) – stories about the best ice cream, ending typically for the era: the owner emigrated, and the place eventually disappeared.
Let’s pause here for a moment. A queue on Fat Thursday is not always mindless herd behaviour. Sometimes it’s a message: this place has a reputation, this place is trusted. And today? Today there’s a third ingredient – snobbery. A doughnut “from the place everyone talks about,” is a good idea even if more expensive and not necessarily better.
Lodz’s crisis‑era specialty: landroty
Does Lodz have its own doughnut, crispy fried dough or sweet treat that sets it apart? Prof. Śmiechowski offers a clear lead. In times of crisis, instead of doughnuts, people ate landroty – something that could be described, in simplified terms, as potato pancakes. The name sounds German, hinting at how deeply Lodz was shaped by cultural influences.
Landroty are not the pride of tourist brochures. They are more a trace of the poorer genealogy of the city’s table. When times improved and people could return to doughnuts – landroty disappeared. They didn’t become luxury pastries like Parisian escargots. They didn’t survive as a symbol – just as a remembered substitute.
A shame, perhaps, because seen through a modern lens, landroty have potential. After all, Lodz is good at reclaiming humble dishes and turning them into a brand – like zalewajka, now proudly promoted despite its decidedly non‑luxurious origins.
A Fat Thursday without powdered sugar
Today, when we eat a doughnut because “that’s just what you do,” it’s easy to confuse tradition with advertising. But the old Fat Thursday in Lodz – the working‑class, modest version – reminds us that the holiday used to be practical. It was like a deep breath before a marathon.
And maybe that’s what makes Lodz special – because its Fat Thursday, even the sugar‑coated one, still has underneath it a layer of potato, bacon, factory dust and the memory that sweetness tastes sweetest when we long for it the most.
Source: Prof. Kamil Śmiechowski
Edit: Kacper Szczepaniak, Centre for Brand Communications, University of Lodz
