"All words are symbols that represent unspeakable realities. Which is also why words are magical." (Donald Miller tweet)

Monday, June 03, 2013

борщ in my kitchen

"We are going to make borsch for you tomorrow!"

This was the announcement made to me yesterday by my Ukrainian friends, visiting for a week.

By the way - it has been a week of heaven. I'm refusing to think about the fact that they leave tomorrow.

So I picked them up this morning, took them to a grocery store to pick up the needed ingredients, and after a dramatic introduction to this television episode of Ukrainian Cooking in Pyetti's Kitchen (complete with drumroll), they proceeded to boil, chop, sautee, simmer and taste.

When it was finally pronounced as хорошо, four bowls of steaming soup were ladled out.

"Pyetti," Tanya said. "This is how you do it."

She handed me a wedge of raw onion, and gestured that I should dip it into the little dish of salt. "Now take a bite, followed right away by a bite of borsch."

That's right.

Raw onion.

So I did, and oh my golly, what an explosion of flavour in my mouth.

They worked me up to an entire clove of garlic.

"Seriously? You want me to eat this clove of raw garlic?"

"даaaaaa," they said, smiling.

So I did.

They watched me closely.

"Chew it and take a bite of borsch."

So I did.

"Chew it more."

When the burn hit, and I gasped, they sat back and smiled in satisfaction.

"That is how Ukrainians eat borsch," said Tanya.

"It's very healthy for you," said Zhenya.

"Yup, you're gonna smell tomorrow," said Alina happily, as she downed her own garlic clove.

Almost certainly the best meal I've ever had.


Anonymous said...

Holy Tic Tack Patti!

RH Brantford

Cool blog

banjosue said...

what an adventure! Neat!