Borscht: A Tale of Two Soups
Using a Yiddish word for a Ukrainian soup I first tasted in Poland all seems to be a bit of a mouthful. Borcht, however, is so pervasive in Eastern Europe it actually seems quite fitting. There’s something vaguely threatening about this purple, clothes-staining foodstuff, and it was perhaps this which meant I had never tasted it until my first foray into Poland in 2015. My loss!
I used to live in an almost entirely Polish neighbourhood in London and became a veteran of my local Polski sklep the variety of sausages, pickled somethings and wonderful wafers I’d sampled by the time I left was relatively vast. However, I’d failed to secure myself anything truly homecooked. Borscht, in my eyes, must always be from a real kitchen. Though simple, it requires real heart to create a lip-smacking bowl of slightly fatty beetroot soup, whose true fundament is the sweet-sour earthiness of fermented beetroot. But from this foundation, many houses can be built. For this reason, I am going to cover a rather refined clear Polish borscht or barszcz czysty czerwony (clear red borscht) to use the correct terminology followed by a filling Ukrainian version which I shall call simply borshch.
So, Where Does it Come From?
Indeed, the sources (and the Ukrainians) agree that this dish first emerged in Ukraine. But what we eat today would be almost unrecognisable to these mediaeval Slavs! The original version was made from some type of pickled hogweed or cow parsley, left to go sour before boiling into a soup. In fact, this is the source of the name. But whenever borscht is mentioned in the Anglophone world, we immediately think of that purple, pink or blood red soup. But what is important is that it has always been a fermented, tangy soup.
Sour Times
Of course, for the above reason, the most important part of both recipes is the soured beetroot broth that forms the base. There are many Slavic soups that have been fermented to produce a complex flavour. I know, that as someone who grew up in a town in Western Europe the idea of fermented and soured foods made at home can be a little ‘icky,’ perhaps angst-inducing. Leaving a jar of food on my sideboard for several days and then eating it is quite far from my mind. But once we get over this fear, fermented foods not only offer a world of complex flavours but also myriad health benefits! Luckily, sweet, earthy beetroot is easy to get going in a safe manner. The best way to guarantee a delicious and edible fermentation requires a few very easy steps.
- Wash beetroot of any dirt and debris
- Peel them into a pan and stir in a few of the cleanest parts of the skin, these can then be removed before proceeding
- Bring the water to the temperature of a comfy bath, stick a finger in to check
- Remove a little of this warm water to a completely clean, well-scrubbed jar or bowl (big enough for all the leftover cooking water)
- Once the beetroot is cooked through, remove it and when the water has cooled to room temperature add it to the jar with the previously reserved water
- Add enough salt that the liquid is a little salty, it should taste like a savoury broth (the salt can be reduced later but as the bacteria that ferment the broth can tolerate salt this gives them a good chance to outcompete other less savoury species.)
- Leave in a room temperature spot covered with a cloth, check the ferment for bubbles, if you see bubbles, congrats! The ferment is going as planned, you can leave it for several days depending on how sour you want it. When it is as sour as you like you can prepare borscht or you can even refrigerate it and leave it a while longer quite safely. For clear borscht, I recommend leaving it only a short time as the yeasts and lactobacillus cause the liquor to become cloudy, ruining any chances of a nice clear soup!
For novices, or those anxious about food safety concerns, you may choose to leave it for a shorter time—this is fine. Be aware that spoiled ferments are quite easy to tell; if you see mould or it smells bad (not just sour) then throw it away. Always use your senses to assess. Still, you can also be content because this is an easy and basic ferment that mostly takes care of itself! Much like a sourdough starter, if you reserve a little of the liquid you can skip steps 2–4 and just add this to the cooled water, this will guarantee you a healthy source of lactobacillus, the only ‘downside’ is that you have to keep eating borscht so the starter doesn’t spoil. (Oh no…)
Now we have a nice portion of sour beetroot liquor, ready to be made into delicious, complex soup. This is the part where you, noble adventurer, choose your own path.
Festive Polish Version
Clear Barszcz occupies much of the same territory as consommé, in my mind. It is a refined, fancy kind of thing and one that I only make for the right occasion. Yet, looking at the clear purple liquid that always comes from boiled beetroot I really get excited to make this soup.
The secret is that even though it is simply a clear liquid, barszcz has three components: the beetroot sour, a stock base and a mushroom stock. All need to be clear and packed with flavour. This is, in fact, quite easy! All we have to remember is to keep everything just below the boil. Thankfully, my minimum temperature on the hob does just this (and if you can’t find that sweet spot )
One of my most vivid memories of Poland is speaking to literally everyone about mushroom hunting, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Much like leaving my food out on my sideboard for days, picking strange fungi in the forest is something I would never have dreamt of doing. I am, after all, not some mad survivalist seeking a living in a post-apocalyptic world. It turns out that this is quite a normal activity in my of Europe. I cannot personally give any advice on this matter but if you have a source of wild mushrooms they are more traditional. If not, we can kind of cheat, so read on.
Champignon Champion
Humble button mushrooms have a surprisingly strong flavour when treated right, it simply needs to be coaxed out. One method of doing this is sun-drying the mushrooms (or doing so in the oven if you have limited access to a sunny spot) I first noticed this after I left some mushrooms too long in the fridge and they had begun to wrinkle, the smell of them was reminiscent of foraged mushrooms! The key to this is removing the gills to keep the final result nice and clear.
The dried mushrooms can be chopped and rehydrated with a few dried porcini. This provides a very similar result to wild mushrooms but the same process can be followed if you do have access to them. Traditionally the leftover mushrooms are chopped and added to tiny dumplings that float in the clear soup. Another alternative is to chop them finely and put them over a slice of bread that accompanies the soup.
Meat stock is a little harder. Now you could follow a recipe for a consomé. This is quite advanced and, in my mind, it’s much easier to just make a normal stock — bones, onions, garlic, carrot, celery, bay, parsley stalks, peppercorns. If choosing this option remember to reduce it very slowly without boiling, boiling is what causes the opacity in the stock, so simmering at the merest touch of heat for many hours. This should be skimmed of any scum. When finished, it can also be ladled off to leave behind any debris. There are several ‘cheats’ methods of clarifying consommé (e.g. Harold McGee’s rather genius method) but they are beyond the scope of this post.
These three bases are then combined and you have a beautiful sweet-sour earthy, rich barszcz consommé. So, if you’ve braved this method for a bowl of soup triumphant adventurer, smacznego!
Filling Ukrainian Version
The “I’m not doing all that for soup!” version is coming up. I have a deep abiding love for Polish barszcz czysty czerwony, but I’m not going to make it very often, I prefer my soup to be filling (if I’m making all that effort, there’s no way I’m doing a second course — unless it’s for someone very special!) simple and delicious. Ukrainian Borshch generally fulfils all of the above.
Though it is “bouillon best practice” to avoid boiling the stuff (in most cases, anyhow) the method is slightly less important in this version. If the stock is cloudy it is not the end of the world. It can be made in exactly the same way, just with a little less care for any boiling. We can even add some mushrooms to the stock for extra flavour, a cheeky nod to our Polish sister version.
What really sets the two apart is the fact that most Ukrainian versions contain bits, so to speak. The most important of these being the cooked beetroot itself. This is usually grated in a finger-staining mess of a process. It’s good honest fun if you resign yourself to the beetroot getting everywhere and preparing to clean immediately after. Furthermore, we see a range of other things we can throw in, vegetables, smoked meats, dumplings, anything really. My version is somewhat of a hybrid that takes my favourite things and puts them into the soup. Smoked sausage, boiled egg, some soup veg and a sneaky secret mix of salo, now for those of you who don’t know salo is a type of Ukrainian lard, much like the fat on Italian hams it melts in the mouth. I take a few slices of salo, or fat from the broth meat, and finely chop it so that it melts into the soup, adding it to the top of the final dish, inspired by rich broths like Japanese tonkotsu, this lends a silky smooth texture to the soup as the fat melts gently in each bite. Furthermore, I often add fried slices of smoked sausage and boiled potatoes. The final soup, sausage, potato, carrot, shredded beetroot and the rich broth is topped with a halved boiled egg, slightly jammy at the yolk and a big heap of the mushrooms leftover from my broth; finally a liberal scattering of chopped dill, and a heap of sour cream. What could be better than watching the sour cream stain the crystalline soup into a hearty pink!
