Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts

TRADITION, TRADITION!



“May we invite Ela for a traditional Polish dinner?” asked my husband after he had returned from his school one summer afternoon. Ela, just like Jay, studied at the Polonicum Centre of Polish Language and Culture for Foreigners at the University of Warsaw. She was from Israel and had a relative who lived in the western part of Poland—her main reason for immersing herself in the brain flexing activities of the more-exceptions-than-the-rules Polish grammar course.

“Of course,” I cheerfully replied while quickly going through a list of what's traditional and not porky. After eliminating the obvious: smalec (rendered pig fat), kiełbasa and schabowy (pork breaded cutlet), I settled on steak tartare followed by chłodnik, or chilled yogurt-beet soup garnished with hard-boiled egg. For our main course we could have staffed rolls of beef in wild mushroom sauce on top of kasha, or earthy buckwheat groats. It would go so well with my father's crisp dill pickles and my mother's tangy beet relish... “Oh, and she doesn't eat meat at all,” added Jay.

No problem. We could still serve chłodnik but start with grilled oscypek, or sheep cheese instead of raw beef mince. As the main course without meat perhaps a savory buckwheat babka with buttery mushed potatoes, eggs and farmer's cheese would do. A creamy mushroom sauce and... “She is actually vegan,” murmured Jay.

Well. I continued stripping our dinner menu down again. Cold yogurt-beet soup had to go. Kasha with pickles and colorful veggie salads would fill the main course plate. And we end with blueberry filled pierogi, their dough kneaded without eggs. Wait a second. A clear barszcz, or Polish borscht could stay. Polish cuisine offers so many variations of beet soup that we actually have a meat- and dairy-free barszcz, however it is traditionally served during a Christmas Eve dinner. Or whenever we have a vegan guest from Israel or from anywhere else.

SOUPLAND INTRO




“What's your ethnicity?” asked a haughty American gentleman shortly after I had moved to the States. His question struck me during a brief conversation about our country club's chili cook-off contest of which I had a privilege to be a judge. 

I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how to respond. Up until then I had never thought of myself as ethnic. I come from a country that, just like the U.S., shares Western cultural tradition. Perhaps my interlocutor was curious to know my religion, although our casual chit-chat didn’t seem to go past the mystery of cooking a hearty chili. My mind desperately tried to come up with a precise answer, speeding through all sorts of data.

I am a tall, blond, fair-skinned, green-eyed woman. He couldn’t possibly be asking my skin color because he could see me.

Did I look weird? I have high cheekbones and sparse eyebrows. These, according to my father, I inherited from our Tartar ancestors. But aren't we all a mix of different gene pools?

Aha, I got it. I speak English with a bit of an accent. Which intonation prevailed? Polish, French, Spanish? There is a little Russian in there too. 

Finally, I found the answer was to focus on food. Cuisine distinguishes nations more easily than looks or the melody of someone’s voice. I, for instance, was born in a country where soups rule. There are gentle spring vegetable soups with fresh dill and cold summer soups made of strawberries. Meaty winter season broths will keep you safe from the frostiest frost. Milk soups greet you in the morning. Beet soups put you to bed at night. Yes, I am from a soupland! Am I not?

After the awkward moment of silence, I told the gentleman: “I am Polish”. And I asked him about his favorite foods. I found out he was a big fan of a chicken soup and pickles but never heard of sour pickle soup which is the recipe I've chosen to share here today.