I am half Bohunk on my mom's side and she could cook, man o man and she made Runzas. She made the dough from scratch by sifting flour, adding some other stuff, baking powder, yeast, and put the dough in pans to rise in a warm oven after being brushed with butter. We weren't allowed to play anywhere near the kitchen lest our running around made vibration that caused the dough to "fall". Each one was like a mini loaf of airy bread stuffed with the filling. That is how I remember them from the Runza Hut in Lincoln in the late 70s, not anywhere near as good as mom's, but still very nice. The quality seemed to take a hit around the time they got rid of the car hops (1981?), then I left Lincoln. I still enjoy a Runza in the stadium every time I go back for a game; however, they are shadows of their former selves. More like a condom stuffed with some beef and cabbage a bit on the over-cooked side. Not bad, I like them, but not fluffy. But then, maybe it is an example of us remembering things in the old days more fondly and the fact that most of the time I ate them back then I was hammered drunk.
