My
childhood friend Cindy is lucky enough to belong to one of those decade-long
book clubs where the members have known each other so long, and listened to
each other’s opinions so much, that it eventually becomes a little family unto
itself, complete with quarrels, break-ups, and great acts of love. This book
club is special also because their monthly meeting is a dinner, which they all
take turns hosting. Cindy called me a few weeks ago with an agenda…it was her
turn to host: “I need some Russian recipes. The book we’re reading is by a
Russian author and we’re supposed to plan the dinner as a theme to the book,”
she explained. I got a little shiver of
excitement. I LOVE themes! Even though I’m 300 miles away from her book club
and can’t participate, I immediately got busy finding some classic Russian
recipes to send to Cindy. It wasn’t difficult. I had experienced a serious
crush on Russian culture back in my 20’s. For about ten years I lived in the
Coolidge Corner neighborhood of Brookline, Massachusetts. It was and still is,
an enclave of immigrant communities, Little Israel, Little Russia, Little
Brazil, etc. One of the best things to
happen to me was a part-time job teaching ESL through the town’s Adult Ed Program.
Many of my students were warm-hearted Russians who soon welcomed me to little
parties at their homes. I was treated to specialties that I otherwise would
never have tried. They also taught me a little bit of Russian – some of which I
still remember… for example, “Ya lubla” means “I like.” (I'm so happy when I can remember things :)
Soon
I took an interest in Russian literature too. Leo Tolstoy would be happy to
know that I read his War and Peace, not once but TWICE. Later I read Anna
Karenina (thought to be one of the best novels in the world).
And though I was
fascinated with European monarchs in general, after I read her biography, Catherine
the Great was in my top three. I loved the opulence and the pride of
pre-Soviet, Mother Russia. The grandeur of their architecture, the music, their love of
the arts in general. I even dabbled in painting for a bit…and designed my own
Faberge Egg – the hallmark of Russian aristocrat jewelry.
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| Does anyone want to call Faberge ? |
Let’s face it, the Romanovs had it going on - at least until their tragic end. Years later, I would be enchanted with the
animated film “Anastasia” with my 3 year old niece asleep in my lap. More
Russian-centric films followed: Enter Dr. Zhivago and Lara. I watched that tale
unfold one night in my little city apartment, eating good caviar on toast with a
chilled glass of pretty good vodka.
But
even with all the stellar European-style shops in Brookline selling every Russian
ingredient you could wish for, including pickled herring and the ubiquitous
mushroom, I never did attempt to cook
anything authentically Russian beyond Stroganoff. Perhaps it’s because I had
access to the food either through my students, or through amazing ethnic restaurants
like Zaftigs (http://www.zaftigs.com/) that I could walk to. But 25 years later with my friend’s
recipe request I was brought to my knees with a craving. For borsht. Or borsch,
as it’s spelled depending on where you’re from. There are so many versions of
this soup that kept generations of peasants alive - the equivalent of
minestrone for Russia and the Ukraine. The
common denominator is beets – a taproot vegetable that is plentiful in those
northern climes. Of course my fave food writer, M.F.K Fisher had a high opinion
of borscht too:
“I
believe that it is one of the best soups in the world. It can be hot, cold,
thick, thin, rich, meager – and still be good. It can be easy or intricate to
make. Some people like it hot, with boiled beef in it, or quarters of cabbage
(the variations on cabbage alone are almost inifinite: chopped, minced,
quartered, whole, on and on). Some people like it cold, with chilled sour
cream, poured over a steaming hot boiled potato in the middle of the plate.
Some people like grated fresh beets in it, and some like nothing at all, just
the clear red consomme, and of course, the cream.”
I mentioned that I am into themes (my daughter
had some amazing birthday parties when she was younger), and next up on the
calendar was Valentines Day. Last year I made some darling heart-shaped red
velvet cupcakes with pink coconut frosting. This year I was going to make the
most fucshia-colored soup in the world – borscht! And I was determined it was not going to be
intricate. I searched the internet and my cookbooks for a simple but delicious
recipe. The authentic ones all stressed the same sentence “it must be thick
enough to stand a spoon in it.” I was going to follow that rule but otherwise
adapt the ingredients to ones I could shortcut.
The result was truly wonderful
and highly nutritious: I melted carrots and onions and garlic in a little olive
oil. I added a slaw combo of shredded cabbage, broccoli, and carrots and melted
it some more. Poured in beef stock as well as shredded beef pot roast and
juices. A can of diced tomatoes.
Then the debutantes of the party arrived: pure
canned beets, followed by jarred pickled beets with just the right amount of
vinegar – chopped and added. Seasoned with salt and pepper. Stirred and simmered
for a couple of hours.
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| Spoon Standing Requirement |
Let it cool then turned it into a rough puree using a hand blender.
Reheated till very hot. Added a healthy dollop of cold sour cream and garnished
with a feather of dill.
It
wasn’t just a little good. It was a lotta good. Like a true peasant, I ate it
for breakfast, lunch, and dinner over the next few days. The one sacrifice was
a white spoon that took on a permanent magenta color. But I’ll tell you what - this soup lived up to it’s hype and I’m giving
it three hearts- And I "heartily" recommend it Ya lubla!
Thanks for reading & happy eating!
Lisa Leary Gertz
