[broken link! FIXME] I finally ran across some beets during my most recent visit to the Orangemart supermarket across the street. Grace had told me that they had them, but I had never managed to see them until this time. Maybe it's a kind of sometimes thing.
I love beets. And beets make me think of borshch (or borsht or borscht, Борщ). So I made borshch. I didn't follow a recipe. I'd been reading a while back about a way of making it where you oven-roast the beets and potatoes first, to carmelize them slightly and give them a stronger flavor. I don't have an oven – I don't even have a microwave – but I was trying to think of ways to achieve a similar carmelizing effect.
Here's the recipe I made up as I went, with occasional illustrations.
[broken link! FIXME] I peeled and cut up one large beet into thin bite-sized slices. I did the same to one carrot and two smallish potatoes. This seemed about right for one "batch" which I imagine will be three servings for me.
[broken link! FIXME] I sliced two small white onions and added a few cloves of crushed garlic to a pot and began to fry them in about a tablespoon of canola oil (I have a several-years' supply of canola oil, as several bottles came embedded in my Seollal gift-set from my boss this year). I added the chopped beets, carrots and potatoes, and some spices. I used ground bay leaf, thyme, oregano, dill seed, a dash of salt, black pepper, a squirt of lemon juice, a teaspoon of brown sugar (to bring out that carmelized beet and onion flavor, right?).
[broken link! FIXME] Then, I "stir fried" it all on a low flame. I didn't add any additional liquid. I figured when it started to burn, I would add the liquid, but I wanted to try to get the carmelizing effect. And much to my surprise, it didn't start to burn, for almost 30 minutes. The onions and beets and the lemon juice seemed to provide enough liquid to prevent the stuff from sticking to the pan. I stirred it a lot.
[broken link! FIXME] The stuff cooked down a lot. It bubbled and smelled delicious.
Finally there was some crusting on the bottom of the pot, so I added a half cup of red wine (which I keep for cooking and use when recipes call for vinegar). Then I added a cup of tomato juice – which is a great instant, convenient vegan substitute for any recipe that calls for broth or soup stock. This bubbled up and boiled I periodically added some additional water, for another 30 minutes.
The recipe is purely vegan up to this point.
[broken link! FIXME] I broke that rule because I put a pat of butter on it and sprinkled some dried thyme, for serving it. I didn't have any sour cream or yogurt on hand, which is what you're supposed to put on borshch.
Borshch always makes me think of Doukhobors. Doukhobors are like slavic Quakers (and there's an important link to Tolstoy). I like Doukhobors. If I had to be a Christian, I would have to be a Doukhobor, maybe. The name means "Spirit Wrestlers."
The personal connection, for me, was in the summer of 1989 when I made a road trip with my brother and father in the moonwagon (my dad's 1949 Chevy suburban) from Minnesota to the Kootenays region of British Columbia. My father spent some time during his childhood there, in a Quaker semi-utopianist community named Argenta, that was linked to the one his parents had founded in Southern California. There are a lot Doukhobors in that part of Canada, and we visited someone who served us home-made Doukhobor borshch, which is one the most delicious meals I have ever eaten in my life, perhaps in part the context, but truly good food, too. Ever since, I keep trying to reproduce that experience, which is why I so [broken link! FIXME] frequently obsess on borshch-making.
And as a stunning non-sequitur, I offer: what I'm listening to right now.
Mexican Institute of Sound, "Yo digo baila." Y además:
Mexican Institute of Sound, "El micrófono." Que chango tan chistoso, ´nel video.
Mejitecno. Jeje.
There is really nothing quite like sitting in a cozy apartment on a frigid February day, in Northwest South Korea, eating homemade borscht and listening to Mexican techno.
Spirit wrestling.