an open cupboard

I once ate white borsch at a friend’s house as a teenager. It was a clear broth with potatoes and green leafies of some sort, and I loved it. This soup was a revelation for me, as my previous encounters with borsch had been entirely unpleasant. The only borsch I had growing up in California came in mass-produced jars bought from the local kosher food store. The jars of purple juice with spherical lumps looked like alien amniotic fluid, and taste about the same. As a result, I had always stayed away from anything that called itself borsch (or borscht), or anything with beets in it, for that matter. That bowl of white borsch opened up a whole new world to me. So this was borsch! It was good, honest traditional food with a harmony of textures.

My second revelation happened at college. My Moscovite friend Ariella had just prepared a fresh pot of red beet borsch, and offered me a bowl. “Oh, I don’t really like borsch, thanks,” I said foolishly. “Just taste a little,” she replied, undeterred. And so I did. It was tart and sweet, warm and delicious. I gladly ate an entire bowl. After that, it was a small leap to beets with goat cheese or gorgonzola and walnuts on a bed of greens.

My eternal thanks to Ariella for re-introducing me to fresh beets.

This soup combines the tart freshness of sorrel with the sweetness of white beets. Potatoes ground the soup with their earthy flavor and dense, creamy texture. I didn’t bother peeling the potatoes, you don’t notice the skins when the soup is blended.

white beet sorrel potato soup

butter and olive oil
1/2 large or 1 small onion, chopped
4 medium potatoes, chopped
4 medium white or golden beets, peeled and chopped
stock and/or water
2/3 lb sorrel, washed, drained, stems removed
salt and white pepper

• Melt the butter and olive oil in a large pot on medium heat. Add the onions and stir.
• When the onions are nearly golden, stir in the potatoes, then the beets.
• Cook for a few minutes, then pour in stock or water to cover. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer for about 15-20 minutes, or until the potatoes and beets have softened.
• Meanwhile, coarsely chop the sorrel. Stir in the sorrel and simmer until the sorrel begins to change color. Turn off the flame.
• Using an immersion blender, blend the soup to a thick, creamy consistency. You can leave the soup a little chunky or blend it until it’s very smooth. I like it a little chunky.
• Season to taste with salt and white pepper. Taste and correct seasoning.
• Serve hot with a dollop of sour cream, or a splash of whole milk stirred in.

Serves 4-6

Privyet, dear readers of food blog! I am taking break from translating Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” to do favor for Shelly, usual author of blog. I was just getting to juicy part, when phone rang. Expecting call from cursed ex-husband Alexei, I am drop book, [”Blin!” (blin is Russian slang word for a crap, yes?)], and answer phone.

“Da! Shto eto?!?” What you want, I say. (Alexei is rat bastard.)

“Um, hi? It’s me, Shelly.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, Shellinka! I thought you were Alexei, rat bastard ex-husband. Why you not say is you?”

“Sorry, Masha, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Kak dela?”

“Kharasho! Am good. All is good when Alexei does not call. May he be like chandelier, hanging in day and burning at night. How are you?”

“Heh, chandelier. Er, yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Trying to throw together some dinner.”

“And I am only trying to earn living, with no alimony from ex-husband and publisher’s deadline weaving over head!”

“Weaving?”

“No, not weaving. How is it? Loom… looming! Looming over head!”

“Yes. Wow. Yeah, that’s stressful.”

“Da. Life is stress. This is why there is wodka. Nu, why you calling, Shelly?”

“Well, with the weather turning cold and all, I was wondering if you had a good borsch recipe?”

“Cold? Weather is cold? Hehehe… you are funny! Is like Siberian summer!”

“Yes, well, I was thinking of making some soup, and I’ve got these beets in the fridge…”

“OK. You have big piece of meat on bone?”

“Um… no.”

“No? You have a fresh dill?”

“No, none of that either. Nope.”

“You have good Russian smetana?”

“I’m afraid not. Just some organic sour cream.”

“You are hear me shake my head on phone? You are feel me pull my hairs out with exuberation?”

“Um, exuberation?”

“Exasperation! I give myself new hairstyle with exasperation because you cannot make the borsch without a proper ingredients!”

“Oh. OK. I guess I’ll just improvise then.”

“Yes. Improvisation makes good results. One percent improvisation and ninety nine percents perspiration. Use deodorant.”

“Um, right, of course. Deodorant. Listen Masha, I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re really stressed out now.”

“Dostoevsky is waiting for me. You make good soup. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks Masha, that’s sweet.”

“Plum jam is sweet. Poka, Shellinka.”

“Take care, Masha.”

Americans! Making borsch with sun-dry tomato and sushi. Is con-fusion cuisine!

con-fusion borsch with chard and garbanzo beans

butter and olive oil
1/2 large or 1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
6-8 baby beets, chopped
1/2 thumb-sized piece of ginger
1 15 oz. (425 gr) can garbanzo beans, drained
water and/or vegetable stock
several handfuls of chard, rinsed
1 lemon
salt and pepper to taste
ground carraway seeds to taste
1/2 tsp mild honey

• In a heavy pot, heat the butter and olive oil over a low to medium flame. Cook the onions until almost golden, then add the garlic.
• Add the chopped beets and stir, then add the garbanzo beans.
• While the beets and beans cook, chop the ginger and add it to the pot.
• Pour in the water or stock to cover, then pour in a little more, about an inch or so (2.54 cm) above the vegetables. Cover and simmer.
• While the soup is simmering, chop the chard into ribbons. When the soup is bubbling, stir in the chard.
• Slice the lemon in half and using a strainer, squeeze the juice of the lemon into the soup.
• Season to taste with salt, pepper, and ground carraway seeds. Taste seasoning and correct, using the honey to balance the tartness of the lemon juice.

Garnish with any of the following:

• Sour cream
• Soft goat cheese
• Raw leftover chard ribbons
• Korean aged black garlic, chopped