"The Cookbook of the United Nations" - Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic Borsch (for the Olympics)

Date I made this recipe:  February 22, 2014 (for the Olympics)

The Cookbook of the United Nations – 350 recipes from the 126 member nations of the UN by Barbara Kraus

Published by:  Simon and Schuster/New York

© 1970

Purchased from Etsy BountifulBooks

Recipe:  Borsch – p. 98 (from the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic)

And so we bid farewell to Sochi (Russia), host of the XXII (22^nd) Winter Olympics games and I have to tell you, it's not a moment too soon.  Given that the US, and particularly the Midwest, has been sucked into the Polar Vortex this year, it has been especially egregious to see the Winter Olympics being held at a summer resort in Russia. Worse, while our temperatures sank toward -20, their temperatures soared into the 60's, causing many skiers to practically strip down to bathing suits while on the slopes or the cross country runs.  I suppose the fact that it was a "balmy" -45 in Siberia should have cheered me, but nah.  I pouted.

So I pouted and harrumphed and because of that, I wasn't really interested in watching the balmy winter games while huddled in front of my TV set freezing to death.  And then, and I just have to put it out there, there are the events themselves.  The word "snooze" comes to mind.  I know, I know—all the athletes train and train and train but honestly folks...curling?  Really?  Curling is an Olympic sport?  Not only do I not get that event, but I do not consider it at all competitive.  For me (and hubby, too), it's akin to billiards or bocce and that means it is about as exciting as watching paint dry.  Now—if the Olympic committee allowed cocktailing while curling (catchy, right?) I might just get behind the event—might.  But probably not.

Other events elicited the same snooze effect:  luge (a silly sport), skeleton (a silly but scary sport), bobsledding, snowboarding and on and on.  Maybe it was just my foul winter-weather mood but probably not:  I'm really a summer sport gal and so swimming and track float my boat more than icy games. 

And then there's skating.  I learned to ice skate when I was five and for years, I wanted to be a competitive skater.  Unfortunately for me (or maybe fortuitously), although my small town had an ice rink, we did not have the opportunity for lessons so I taught myself what I could and that was that.  No emulating my hero, Peggy Fleming, no Dorothy Hamill (camel) hairdo, no gold medal,  no podium for me.  Bupkis. 

Still, for years, I watched skating on TV and at the Olympics until I got to the point where it too, annoyed me.  Instead of all this graceful skating, we had Yoga on Ice, with youngsters bending themselves into near pretzels, we had the ice version of The Flying Wallendas (trapeze artists) as male pair skaters threw their 2-pound partners across the ice at warp speed and then we had the individual competitions where grace, beauty and most importantly, skating to the music went by the wayside, replaced by yoga, more yoga and jump after jump after jump (jive and wail).  My musical brain cannot come to grips with this disconnect.  To me, skaters spend more time prepping for the jumps and twists and twirls than they do actually skating to the music.  Every time the music cues practically scream "Now!" they're still prepping to execute their triple flip/salchow/twist/jump...whatever.  Drives me crazy.

And speaking of twirls, can we talk for a moment about the Ice Dancing "twizzles?"  Say what?  Granted, I am not up on my ice dancing but this requirement that they include "twizzles" makes me snort.  But that said—given that ice dancers are the only ice skaters who actually perform a program to the music, I give them mad props and may just start tuning in to ice dancing competitions.

 Once the joke event of the Olympics (just like synchronized swimming in the Summer Olympics), ice dancing has now been elevated on the Verme-Event-O-Meter to "not half bad."  In fact, the 2014 United States gold medalist team of Davis and White made it all seem so easy that I wanted to break out my ice skates and test my memory of all the dance moves I learned.  But I think the operative word "break" is the likely result of that delusion and so best to just leave that event to the experts.  (That said, I can do a seriously decent back toe loop.  Just saying.) 

By the way, it may amuse you to no end that I took Ice Skating 101 for a PE credit while in college.  It was a last-minute addition (and my final PE credit) but I still missed the first day of class.  But no worries for me—the instructor told me skating forwards was the goal of the first class and session two, my session, was all about learning to skate backwards.  Did I know how to skate backwards, she enquired?  Yes, just a little bit. ;) In fact, I ended up assisting her with that session so there you go.  (I also taught several people how to skate while at college and to this day have no idea how one of my roommates, Julie, managed to skate over her thumb.) And by the time we got to ice dancing routines, I was practically a gold medal contender. 

Okay, and now back to mother Russia and this cookbook.  This edition, published in 1970, contains recipes from the 126 member nations of the United Nations.  Fifty one member nations ("member states") founded the UN back in 1945 and today, there are 193.  And as you can imagine, several nations have undergone quite the overhaul since the founding and since this book was published, notably our Olympic host nation, Russia.

So, follow along with me if you can:  Until 1991, Russia and the Ukraine, "home" of today's borscht recipe, were part of the former USSR, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.  According to this cookbook and UN records however, the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic (capital:  Kiev) was a separate nation and member state from the USSR (capital:  Moscow).  Recipes from each member state are included but I decided the Borsch recipe from the Ukraine best exemplified "Russian" food.  (I am sure I am missing some important steps in the whole "Back in the USSR" story but such is life.)

What I love about this cookbook is that it serves up recipes and acts as a history/geography primer all rolled into one as each country gets a one-paragraph write-up.  And let me just tell you how handy that is if you are a fan (like I am) of the TV show, Jeopardy!  (Because I really stink when it comes to geography.) 

Some countries in this book, like Russia, have, of course, gone through major turmoil and in fact, things in the Ukraine ("home of our borsch recipe) right now are absolutely explosive as the citizens try to topple their current president (who by all accounts, has fled the country).   I didn't put two and two together when I selected this recipe and am sorry to hear of all this.  The UN, of course, is urging a peaceful resolution of these conflicts.

Other countries, even though they are part of the UN, are not "enjoying" peaceful relations with the US right now:  Afghanistan; Iran; Syria to name a few.  Not on the list in 1970:  Korea (neither north nor south) and Vietnam.  The exclusion of Vietnam makes sense if you remember that the US was engaged in a long-term battle with Vietnam that ended in 1975 with the fall of Saigon.  And then there's countries that no longer exist such as Dahomey (now called Benin.  It's located in Africa.  I had no idea.) or the former Czechelslovakia which divided into the Czech Republic and Slovakia.  My mom's family lives in what is now Slovakia.

And so let's turn our attention at last to this neutral dish – borsch.  What I loved about this recipe is the combination of ingredients:  sugar and lemon juice and flour and sour cream.  Sounds like a cake, right?  Fortunately, all these flavors blended well with the vegetables used (cabbage, celery, onions, carrots and beets) resulting in a truly "spring"-like dish.  I had several servings.  You should, too. Nostrovia!

Ukrainian Soveit Socialist Republic  Borsch (Spring Beet Soup) – yield: 8-10 servings

1 teaspoon salt

¼ medium cabbage, finely chopped (Ann's Note:  I used red cabbage)

1 medium carrot, cubed

1 teaspoon chopped parsley

2 cups diced celery

1 medium onion, grated

4 cups water

1 pound young beets, peeled and grated

1 clove garlic, minced

4 tablespoons lemon juice

1 tablespoon sugar

1 tablespoon flour

1 cup sour cream

Salt

Black pepper

Add salt and vegetables, except beets, to water.  Simmer for 30 minutes or until vegetables are just tender.  Add grated beets and cooked 10 to 15 minutes.  Add the garlic and lemon juice to sugar; add to soup.  Blend flour with sour cream, add to soup, and bring t a boil.  Adjust seasoning.  Serve hot.

"Nothing Beets Borscht - Jane's Russian Cookbook" - Ukrainian Borscht

Date I made this recipe: January 13, 2008

Nothing Beets Borscht – Jane’s Russian Cookbook by Jane Blanksteen
Published by: Antheneum
© 1974
Recipe: (what else?!) Ukrainian Borscht – p. 32-34

Last year at about this time, I pulled this cookbook off the shelf, looked for the requisite borscht recipe and got scared off when I read that this called for one pound each of beets, cabbage and potatoes. I had this picture in my mind’s eye of me as a modern-day Cinderella, off in a corner, peeling all these vegetables for hours on end, not to mention me dragging all those pounds into my kitchen.

But I eventually decided pounds be damned – I’ll make the recipe!

And so off I went to the grocery store where this amazing invention called a scale saved my life. Because you see, people, six small to medium-sized beets weighted well over a pound. Two medium-sized Yukon Gold potatoes weighed well over a pound. A bag of coleslaw mix (I cheated but it worked) weighed a pound. Silly, silly me! (I was never good at math.) I also freaked out when I saw it made 10-12 servings as I had visions of bowls and bowls of soup being eaten week after week, month after month until I never wanted to see a beet again. And again I was wrong because when I serve up soup, I do it in a decent-sized bowl and not some restaurant’s warped idea of a soup bowl. (Let me just rant for a minute on take-out soup cups and bowls. Are they kidding? To me, that’s a ladle full of soup—perhaps not even that. I am not advocating for larger portions, but I am saying that if you are serving yourself a cup of chicken noodle soup you can all but forget the noodles and instead enjoy the broth because that’s about all you get).

So speaking of broth, I made the broth the night before in between events since it needs to cook for 3 hours. I put the soup on right before I went to an acupuncture appointment then stirred it a little during the Packer playoff game v. Seattle and took the whole thing off the stove right before a friend came over to pick me up for a St. Paul Chamber Orchestra concert. I totally live by multi-tasking and yes, thank you for pointing out the most unique sequence of events—acupuncture followed by football followed by soothing chamber music. Which of these do not go together?!

Just as an aside, I had no choice but to schedule the acupuncture appointment for the same time as the Packer kick-off. Now, a true fan would have bagged the appointment and gone for the game, but my back has felt so much better with acupuncture that I couldn’t miss it. But of course, the appointment was backed up and there I was, lying on my stomach with these tiny needles in me, unable to move, trying to channel all my positive energy to my team while at the same time mentally imploring my wonderful Chinese doctor to hurry the hell up, already! Once done, I flew home, blew in the door, checked with my husband on the score, stirred the soup and then sat my behind down to watch the game. When my friend came to pick me up, I had removed the meat bones and vegetables from the broth and stored the whole lot of it in the refrigerator. This is what halftime is for! (Although I didn’t have time to take the meat off the bones as I can only do so much and am not superhuman in the same way that Brett Favre is). (By the way, the Packers won).

So, if time allows I recommend doing the broth one day ahead and then assembling the soup the next day but if not, I think you’ll be fine. But be warned—you will need 2 quarts plus 2 cups of broth to make the dish and I came up short by about 4 cups so I added low-sodium chicken broth to round it out. I suppose I could have used water but that’s so….boring…and so broth it was. And it tasted fine.

As to the veggies, and just so you know, beets will temporarily stain everything you use to shred/dice them so be prepared to rinse things off immediately, hands included. Prior to washing, my hands looked like I had developed some weird rash…and this is why I waited until after the concert (i.e. the next day) to shred them seeing as how I didn’t want people looking at me in horror. Instead of shredding them, you can chop them instead, saving your hands from staining; I did chop a few of the pieces that were too small to shred and wished I had done that from the beginning.

After slicing and dicing and stirring and cooking, this soup was ready to roll and people, it was so darned purty and looked so healthy that I almost hated to eat it. I’m glad I got over that. Prior to making this dish, I always thought of borscht as being heavy and hearty but this soup, really a meal in and of itself, had bright bits of carrots and tomatoes mixed in with the beets that it just screamed “Vitamins!” And besides that, it just tasted darn good. The author recommends a little sour cream and dill but I opted for a bit of creamy horseradish to kick it up a notch. At the end of the day, I have to agree with the author—Nothing Beets Borscht!

Ukrainian Borscht – 10 to 12 servings
Stock Ingredients
3 pounds ham hock
1 bay leaf
1 onion, peeled and studded with 5 cloves
1 carrot, peeled
1 celery stalk
Salt and pepper
3 quarts water (note: you may need to add more)

Borscht Ingredients
1 medium onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
2 slices bacon or some butter or shortening
2 small or one large carrot, peeled and sliced into small disks
1 peeled, diced turnip or parsnip (note, I used both)
1 cup peeled, chopped tomatoes or 2 small ones (can be canned)
Salt, pepper
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar (plus more to finish the dish)
1 pound beets, making 2 ½ cups when peeled and grated (note—with that mess I had going on, there was no way I was going to measure! Just throw the beets into the soup already!)
1 pound white cabbage, shredded (Note, as mentioned above, an already-prepared cole slaw mix worked just as well)
1 pound potatoes, peeled and diced
2 quarts plus 2 cups of stock
1 pound kolbasa sausage or any cooked sausage if you like (but not raw or it will fall apart when you add it to the soup; if you want to use raw sausage, broil it first).

To make the stock
Put all the stock ingredients in a large soup pot and bring liquid to a boil. Turn off the heat and skim off the scum on the surface of the soup. The scum is that foamy, muddy stuff reminiscent of the foam you are likely to find at a polluted beach. (Note to author: this is descriptive—but not necessarily what one wants to read when making food, no?) Now partially cover the pot and let the soup simmer for 3 hours.

After the three hours are up, let the soup cool. When it is cool enough not to scald your fingers, remove the vegetables and bay leaf and the ham hock. Throw out the vegetables and bay leaf but save the ham hock and remove all the meat from the bones and shred it with your fingers. Throw out the bones.

Put the shredded meat in the pot. Refrigerate the stock and, before you are about to use it, skim the fat off the top. It will be a solid white layer covering the stock.

To make the borscht
Prepare all ingredients as directed. Saute the onion and garlic with 2 slices of bacon or just butter until they are limp and white (not browned). Add the carrots, turnip/parsnip, tomatoes, salt, pepper and vinegar and continue to sauté. Add 2 cups of the stock to the frying pan with the vegetables. Next, add the beats then cover the pan and simmer for 45 minutes.

In the meantime, bring 2 quarts of stock to a boil, then add the shredded cabbage and diced potatoes and simmer for 15 minutes. (Note, I went about a half hour in order for the potatoes to be done.) Once the cabbage and potatoes are done, add the beet mixture then simmer, partially covered, for 15 minutes to combine flavors. (I went longer on this because my husband was finishing up a task and I think the soup benefited from extra cooking time in that the vegetables were softer, less crisp due to longer cooking).

Season the entire mixture to taste with salt, pepper and a splash more vinegar.

If you desire, cut the sausage into small, round slices, and simmer for 15 minutes partially covered.

N.B. I was just cleaning up my desk area when I came across a post it note that reminded me to talk about a recipe I didn't make--Fresh Ham Cooked in Hay and Beer (p. 67). That's right, people, hay...as in hay is for horses. Besides the obvious "ew" factor, where on earth would one score fresh, usable hay these days? Anybody? Anybody? If you know, please tell me, 'cause I'm thinking that somehow, my local supermarkets just wouldn't carry it...I'm just saying....

And to fans of Trading Spaces, do we not all remember the homeowner's horror (and our own) when "designer" (ahem) Hildy Santo Tomas put hay on the walls? [Insert visible shudder here.] I bet the owners didn't take more than a nanosecond after the reveal to rip that hay off the walls. Too bad it was all spattered with paint or it might have been usable in this dish!