Waiting. Job applications go out and then there is a period of waiting that is its own kind of work — you have done everything you can do, the ball is entirely in someone else's court, and you are at home eating soup and keeping your phone on loud at all times. I have applied to eight positions now. I have had one in-person interview. I have done everything correctly and now I wait, which I am not naturally good at but am learning.
Went to Babcia Rose's for Sunday dinner. She made borscht — the deep red beet soup, with a swirl of sour cream and a dark rye bread on the side. She was in good form this week: moving more easily than last time I visited, talking more. She told me the story, which I have heard many times but never tire of, of how she and Dziadek Wally came to Oak Lawn from Poland in 1958 with four hundred dollars and two suitcases and the address of a church on the South Side. How Dziadek Wally found plumbing work through the church. How Steve was born in 1959 and she cooked on a two-burner hotplate for three years.
I said: how did you cook on a two-burner hotplate. She said: "You figure it out." I wrote that down too. The recipe collection I am building in my notebook is also turning into something else — a document of how the women in my family cooked under constraint, what they made when there was very little, how food was a way of staying intact when everything else was uncertain.
Made the borscht recipe from what I remembered of watching her, and from asking questions she answered only partially. I got it close. The color was right. The depth of flavor was almost there. She would know the difference immediately. I ate it out of the cast iron pot I made it in, standing at the stove in Patty's kitchen, and I thought: I am going to learn all of these recipes. I am going to get every single one.
When I got the color right — that deep, almost-impossible red — I stood there at the stove and let myself feel something like progress. This is the recipe I pieced together from watching Babcia Rose over many years, from asking questions and getting answers that were really just starting points, and from writing down everything I could in the notebook I carry everywhere now. It is not her borscht exactly. But it is mine, built from hers, and that feels like exactly the right thing to be making right now.
Borscht (Polish Beet Soup)
Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 35 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs fresh beets (about 4 medium), peeled and grated or cut into thin matchsticks
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil or unsalted butter
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 medium carrots, peeled and grated
- 2 stalks celery, diced
- 2 cups green cabbage, thinly shredded
- 1 medium russet potato, peeled and cut into small cubes
- 6 cups vegetable or beef broth
- 1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes
- 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
- 1 tablespoon sugar
- 1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 bay leaves
- Fresh dill, chopped, for serving
- Full-fat sour cream, for serving
- Dark rye bread, for serving
Instructions
- Sweat the aromatics. Heat the oil or butter in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Build the base. Add the carrots, celery, and cabbage to the pot. Cook, stirring, for another 5 minutes until the vegetables begin to soften.
- Add the beets. Stir in the grated or matchstick-cut beets. Cook for 5 minutes, letting them begin to release their color into the pot. The whole kitchen will go red. That’s right.
- Add liquid and remaining vegetables. Pour in the broth and add the diced tomatoes, potato, bay leaves, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a gentle simmer.
- Simmer low and slow. Cover partially and simmer for 45–50 minutes, until the beets and potato are fully tender and the broth has deepened to a rich, dark red. Stir occasionally.
- Season and balance. Remove the bay leaves. Stir in the red wine vinegar and sugar. Taste and adjust — borscht should be a balance of earthy, sweet, and just slightly tart. Add more salt, vinegar, or sugar a little at a time until it tastes right to you.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls. Add a generous swirl of sour cream and a scatter of fresh dill. Serve with thick slices of dark rye bread on the side.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 175 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 720mg