After the long restraint of Lent, the table returns with force: rich, symbolic, unapologetically abundant. This is not a casual brunch. It’s a culinary reset, built on dishes that carry memory, ritual, and a deep sense of seasonality.

At the heart of it all is biała kiełbasa (white sausage, unsmoked, gently spiced with garlic and marjoram). Served warm, often with ćwikła (grated beets mixed with horseradish), it delivers something elemental: meat, salt, heat. Nothing more, nothing less.

Alongside it sits żurek, Poland’s defining Easter soup. Made from fermented rye starter, it’s sour, earthy, and deeply satisfying. Add sausage and egg, and it becomes a complete story in a bowl—one that stretches back centuries.

Eggs (jajka wielkanocne) of course, are everywhere. Decorated in with colors are called pisanki, blessed, shared, and eaten in every possible form. They symbolize renewal, but also serve a more practical purpose: they bind the table together. Devilled, sliced, or simply seasoned, they are constant.

Then there’s śledźie (herrings), a holdover from Lent. Sharp with vinegar, softened with oil, often paired with onion, it reminds you where the feast began before pushing you forward into richer territory.

And finally, the sweets.

Mazurek, flat and ornate, is pure expression—nuts, chocolate, dried fruits layered without restraint. Sernik, made from dense twaróg, offers a quieter, creamier counterpoint. Babka, tall and golden, rises like a centerpiece, while makowiec, spiraled with poppy seeds, adds depth and a hint of nostalgia.
This is the traditional table. But increasingly, in modern Warsaw homes, something else is happening. Easter is opening up.

While the structure based on tradition remains, the edges soften. The meal stretches later into the day, drifting toward something closer to brunch. And with that shift comes new elements—ones that don’t replace tradition, but sit comfortably beside it.

Think smoked salmon or gravlax, laid out next to eggs and fresh bread. Clean, silky, lightly cured—it brings brightness to a table that can lean heavy. Add a squeeze of lemon, a handful of dill, and suddenly the meal feels lighter, more contemporary.

Then there’s the unexpected but entirely logical pairing: eggs and avocado. Not Polish, not traditional—but visually striking and texturally perfect. Creamy, rich, vibrant green against the pale yellow of yolk—it’s a modern addition that works without apology.

Even the drinks are shifting. Alongside coffee and compote, you’ll now find kombucha—fermented, slightly sharp, refreshing enough to cut through the richness of sausage and cake. In its own way, it echoes the sour notes of żurek or pickled herring—just reinterpreted.

This is how food traditions survive. Not by staying fixed, but by adapting—absorbing new influences while holding onto their core. Because at its heart, the Polish Easter table isn’t about rules. It’s about gathering, abundance, and the quiet understanding that after a long winter – you’ve earned this.

And come Easter Monday, be ready for Śmigus-Dyngus—arm yourself with a water pistol or squeezable egg to fend off mischievous family ambushes.

Traditional staples:

• Biała kiełbasa with horseradish
• Żurek with egg and sausage
• Decorated eggs (pisanki)
• Pickled herring (śledzie)
• Mazurek, babka, sernik, makowiec

Modern brunch additions:

• Smoked salmon or gravlax
• Eggs with avocado
• Fresh sourdough bread (chleb na zakwasie)
• Kombucha or light ferments

For the Insider’s favorite place to shop for all Easter ingredients, read our article about BioBazar in the Norblin Factory