THE RED BUTTON

Borsch, babooshka, matryoshka, za zdorovye – a basic arsenal of sounds that most westerners have up their sleeve and almost uncontrollably spill out when it comes to Russian cuisine and culture.  A strange looking red soup with a traditional dash of sour cream is probably the most well-known Russian dish. It was the royalty that feasted on crapes with caviar, French salads, cheese-stuffed quails and pike in aspic; while the peasants ate beets, leeks, other roots and cabbage in the Tsarist Russia. Yet, often times, it is the peasants that turn out to be the greatest cooks. Making a decent meal out of a variety of high quality products is not as challenging as making a masterpiece out of whatever “God has sent.” Peasants all over the world are known for their simple masterpieces, each being influence by the geographic specification, of course.

       Borsch is a peasant dish that fed the comrades in Kremlin and was served by and for the nostalgic immigrants and curious outsiders fascinated by the “Russian Spirit” on Brighton Beach, West Hollywood and Sacramento.

       Borsch can be vegetarian and meat-based. Its core ingredients are: beats, onions, potatoes, carrots, garlic, cabbage and sometimes red beans - cooked with tomato paste and bay leafs; served with dill and sour cream. 

       Here is how I make borsch:

As always, bring bones to boil in a pot of cold water to make stock. In a separate pot sauté diced onions, and garlic, add carrots, tomato paste and cook a few minutes; add julienned beets, salt, pepper and a couple of bay leafs. Combine sautéed vegetables with meat stock, alternatively use vegetable stock or simply water, and simmer. Add potatoes and pre-cooked red beans. In the very end, when potatoes are cooked, add finely sliced cabbage and simmer for a couple more minutes. Serve borsch with sour cream and fresh herbs.

       There are certainly other variations of borsch and I respect them and hope that my recipe will find success among the readers.

       This has been one of the greyest and coldest winters in my life, almost identical to the winter of 2008 that I spent in Spokane. Soup filled with vitamins and color is a life-supporting meal during such downer times, when everything and everyone is holding their breath in anticipation of spring, I have faith in our lungs.