Borscht has been on my mind lately, in part because Hanukkah began so early this year and a colleague wrote a piece about her annual fete, which always includes borscht, and in part because there were beets in my fridge that cried out for attention.
And although I started out with the intention of making it, by the time I had finished cooking, the soup had taken on a mind of its own and morphed into something quite different than what we think of when we hear the word borscht.
As I sat down to write the recipe, a question asked by a reader at a recent cooking contest came to mind. She wanted to know what made a soup without hominy a pozole, as its maker had called it.
It's a good question and one that warrants attention in this day of culinary invention. When does a dish evolve so far from its roots, its tradition, that it should receive another name?
Does every puree of green herbs qualify as pesto?
Should fettucini with, say, chicken and vegetables in a cream sauce be identified as fettucino alfredo?
What about all those "risottos" on restaurant menus that include not a single grain of rice?
Perhaps most importantly, why does this matter?
Sometimes it doesn't. That pozole skirted the edge of tradition by including fresh corn, and although I thought it had more in common with the South American soup known as locro, I wasn't troubled by its traditional moniker.
But more often it does matter, especially in restaurants and primarily because these traditional names evoke expectations and can lead to disappointment when something with no relationship to that tradition arrives.
Hence, my beet soup is called just that, soup, not borscht, even though it shares certain ingredients - potatoes, carrots, parsnips, beef stock and vinegar - with the traditional soup.
But there's no cabbage and no caraway seed, two ingredients I consider essential in a borscht. So I rechristened it.
In the end, I suppose, what matters most is if the dish tastes good or not. Both of these soups do, I promise.
To see my version of borscht, visit this column's companion blog, "Eat This Now," at pressdemocrat.com.
Although I prefer this soup with golden beets, which have a somewhat more delicate flavor than red beets, you can use whatever beets you have - red, golden, Chioggia (pink) or white - and have a lovely soup.
Each beet has its own characteristics, so don't expect them to taste identical simply because they are all beets. They taste similar but not the same.
Golden Beet Soup with Burrata
Makes 4 servings
1? pounds golden beets, roasted in the oven until almost tender, peeled (see Note below)
3 tablespoons mild olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
Kosher salt
1 small carrot, diced
1 medium russet potato, diced
1 medium parsnip, peeled and diced
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon minced fresh ginger
3 cups homemade beef stock or hearty vegetable stock, hot
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar or sherry wine vinegar
Black pepper in a mill
1 burrata or 6 ounces whole milk yogurt, such as Bellwether Farms Sheep's Milk Yogurt
3 tablespoons snipped chives
Best quality extra virgin olive oil, preferably Davero Olio Nuovo
Cut the beets into 3/8-inch cubes and set aside.
Pour the olive oil into a large soup pot set over medium low heat, add the onion and saute until soft and fragrant, about 7 to 8 minutes. Season lightly with salt.
Add the carrot, potato and parsnip and saute, stirring gently now and then, until the vegetables soften, about 15 to 20 minutes.
Do not let them brown. When tender, sprinkle with cumin and stir in the ginger. Add the beets, stir gently and pour in the hot stock and the vinegar. Simmer for 15 minutes.
Remove from the heat and let rest, covered, for 5 to 10 minutes. Taste, correct for salt and season with black pepper.
To serve, ladle the soup into warmed soup plates.
Add a chunk of burrata or a big dollop of yogurt to each portion and scatter chives on top.
Drizzle a little olive oil over the burrata and serve immediately.
Variations:
The soup may be pureed before serving. To do so, either puree in a standard blender or with an immersion blender. Strain and serve as directed above.
Instead of burrata or yogurt, serve the soup with a poached egg. To do so, poach the eggs and set one in each soup plate. Gently ladle the soup over it.
To make the soup the main course, add cooked beef, such as braised short ribs or shanks. Chop it or shred first and add it with the stock.
For a special dinner, use creme fraiche in place of the burrata or yogurt. Shave black truffles over each portion immediately before serving.
Because both farro and chickpeas have earthy flavors, you might try this soup with Chioggia beets, which contain more of the "geosmin" compounds that contribute the earthy aromas and flavors of beets.
