Would my Baba be proud?

Today I did some Ukrainian cooking for dinner.

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Today I made borscht. My family is Ukrainian and over my lifetime I’ve eaten a lot of borscht, but I have not made borscht that many times. Recently my brother sent some borscht concentrate that would save me the trouble of taking a drive to Tokushima to buy a can or two of beets for the soup.


One thing I’ve learned over the years that I’ve made borscht is that for me there is a similarity to Japanese miso soup. When I came to Japan and made miso soup it was kind of weak tasting and I didn’t know why. Watching and tasting my wife’s and my mother-in-law’s miso soups I came to realize that the base of the soup was so important. This makes sense to me now, but it didn’t at first probably because I though that miso soup’s miso was the most important thing. It still may be, as I’m no chef, but to me the base is important. I noticed that starting the miso soup with some dashi and adding in various vegetables or other items and creating a flavourful broth helped to make a delicious miso soup.


I ate a lot of borscht growing up, mostly my mother’s and I still consider her borscht the epitome of borscht perfection (hope you’re reading, Mom!). My mother’s borscht was not exactly the same each time, though it was mostly the same. It was full of vegetables, but not chowder-like. The vegetables not only gave it taste but substance. Sometimes borscht is served as a broth and to me that’s not what borscht ever was or should be. My mother’s borscht has a lot of flavours that play around in your mouth. There’s the umami from the meat and vegetables that have cooked together, the sweet from the beets and some sugar added, the salty from salt, and the sour from vinegar or sour salt. If cream or sour cream is added, another creamy dimension is added.


My baba would have said my borscht was it was good. The same with my mother, though she’d also try to help me understand what could be changed in the future. She would also tell me that there is no real recipe and that however we make it, if we like it, it’s OK.


Thanks, Mom. You always know the right things to say.




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