Three sisters, their mother, one of their nieces/daughters (me) and a recipe for borscht. This recipe has been repeated, rephrased and reinterpreted through each one of us. Every Christmas Eve as a child I dreaded the thought of this dish, I was only in it for the pierogis from that feast. It was oxblood purplish red and represented the blood of Christ. That was literally too much to digest as a child and I was grossed out by the resounding slurping around the table.
I’ve changed, I now look forward to this recipe and evening over so many others over the course of the year. My first attempt at this recipe was a mere three years ago and it quickly became a part of my repertoire from that Christmas Eve on. While preparing to make it for the first time I called on my mom Laada (Josie), my cioci Ursie (aunt Ursula), my cioci Susie (aunt Susan) for their guidance and tricks they learned from my babci, their mother and my grandma (Olga). They each gave me their individual input and tips from years of making this soup.
Below are the top 3 pieces of advice each of them gave to me on that fateful first attempt, with my real life reaction/response following.
From Cioci Susie-The eldest and most revered in the kitchen for her skills. To me, she sounds like she is singing when she speaks and she knows how to make everything---I mean everything! My times with her in the kitchen are full of laughs, isms and a little sass.
“If you really want to make it special and full of flavor you have to go to the butcher and ask for the bones from the beef to make it the most flavorful.”
My response? Better Than Bouillon Beef, this makes my life and borscht the stuff of legend….I still do this step every time and have never looked back-a riff if you please.
From Cioci Ursie-The middle sister with the most practical nature and lots of cultivated skill in the kitchen. She cuts to chase and gives it to you straight. I truly learned from her that you could be a great cook with the simplest techniques and ingredients.
“Whatever you do, don’t let the borscht turn into a brown color and make sure that it stays clear. The skins need to be clean, keep an eye on them while they boil and flavor the water. Babci was known to throw out the entire batch if it wasn’t a true beautiful color.”
30 minutes into my making my first batch-Oh Shit! It’s not really any color! What the fuc* do I do? I think quickly and call my local juice spot and ask for a small order of pure beet juice to be delivered, crisis averted. The color is now the perfect shade of creepy blood comparison.
From Josie, my mama-The youngest sister who would define herself as a well-taught novice but to me she turned great before I knew her beginnings in the kitchen.
“It doesn’t really matter what you’re making if your attitude is wrong. Christmas Eve is all about how you behave, however you act will follow you all year long.”
Well great, I’ve already lied by using bouillon and cursed so much clarifying the borscht that there isn’t enough soap in my kitchen to cleanse my mouth. I guess more of this behavior for the next 364 days—until I get a rematch.
This is very personal and special for me. My grandmother never got to teach me her borscht directly or get to try mine. I find comfort in the ritual and keeping traditions alive, so I know on some level she and her daughters are proud.
Here is my mother’s recipe, direct from text-
Go find your own little moments of delight and a Merry Christmas if that’s your tradition.
#FindYourLittleFriday