Borsht

Julie’s nose's aloft over the soup that's royal red and bubbling, inhaling wafts of dill and coriander that curlicue up. Sunlight floods the kitchen, so there's  a rainbow of steam, and it’s as if the spectrum of vegetables cut and chopped by Daniel created it.

I’d made a quick vegetable stock earlier in the morning of onions, garlic, beets, carrots, cilantro and dill stems,  endive, celery and coriander seeds. It simmered for an hour and was allowed to infuse for another three.
Daniel and Julie add some diced beets, potatoes, onions, an apple, and carrots to the strained stock and cook everything until fork tender. Then with Daniel’s immersion blender they puree it until velvet, 

We add  pickle juice left over from kosher dill brining last summer, I had a half-gallon in the back of the fridge and kept thinking that its day would come. It is the perfect sour spark to the sweet and lively vegetables. When the first spoonful hits Julie’s tongue, she's in revelry.

We serve the borsht  as the first course, after the zakuski, at our Russian literary feast. In little bowls, with our salmon kulebiaka on the side. We don't even pass the sour cream.

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