#i love barszcz

[verkomy]

what is your favorite soup?

[muscariii]

Guys my christmas break has officially started. I will finally draw and post again. Yippee.

[meltingpointmp3]

apparently żurek is 2nd on some list of the best soups in the world. funny because it's the worst polish soup. millions of polish people might say otherwise but they are not reliable sources. i am.

[starsjulia]

Święta with You // alexia putellas

a/n : happy first of december, i’m sad and wanted to kinda write about my life (even though i am going back to poland for Christmas)

warnings : tiny bit of homophobic families, then fluff, and also the readers polish

Christmas had always been your favorite time of year. Back in Poland, the holiday season meant tradition, chaos, and, above all, family. You would spend hours helping your babcia in the kitchen, rolling dough for pierogi and making barszcz with beets that stained your hands. The cold air outside would carry the sound of carolers, and even amidst family arguments, the festive spirit was undeniable.

But this year was different. For the first time, you were far from home, celebrating Christmas in Spain with Alexia and her family. You loved her with every fiber of your being, but a part of you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest.

——————

Alexia found you sitting by the window that morning, staring out at the rolling hills. The sunlight was soft, but the festive warmth inside the house felt far away. She approached you quietly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Estás bien, amor?” she asked softly.

You looked up and forced a smile. “I’m okay. Just… thinking.”

Alexia crouched beside you, studying your face. “Tell me,” she urged, switching to English.

You hesitated, unsure if you could even put the feelings into words. “I just… I miss it,” you said finally. “Christmas back home. The traditions, the snow, the way my family used to come together—even if we argued the rest of the year.”

Alexia frowned, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry, cariño. I know how it’s hard being away. But… is there something else? You seem… sadder than usual.”

A lump formed in your throat as you nodded. “They didn’t invite me, Alexia. My family. They didn’t invite me for Christmas. I know they don’t really accept us yet, but I thought, for one day, they might…”

Alexia’s eyes filled with sympathy as she pulled you into her arms. “Oh, mi amor,” she whispered, holding you tightly. “Lo siento. I’m so sorry.”

You leaned into her, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “I keep thinking about how, even when they fought, Christmas was the one time they made it work. But now, because of who I love, I don’t even get that. It’s like… I don’t exist to them anymore, I didn’t do anything wrong, I just love, I don’t know.”

Alexia didn’t say anything right away. She just held you, her hands running soothingly up and down your back. After a moment, she pulled back slightly to look at you.

“Listen, mi amor,” she said, her voice firm but full of love. “I know it hurts, and I hate that they’re making you feel this way. But you’re not alone. Aquí, con mi familia, tienes un hogar. You have a home here—with me. And we’ll make this Christmas beautiful, I promise.”

Her words, so steady and full of conviction, brought a fresh wave of tears. But this time, they weren’t entirely sad. You nodded, leaning your forehead against hers. “Thank you, Alexia. For everything.”

“Siempre,” she whispered. “Always.”

——————

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of preparations. Alexia insisted that you show her every detail of your transitions, from cooking the dishes to setting the table.

“What’s this one called again?” she asked, gesturing to the dough you were rolling out.

“Pierogi,” you said, smiling as you worked. “This one will have potatoes and cheese, and this one—” you pointed to another batch—“will be sweet, with fruit.”

She furrowed her brow in concentration as you showed her how to fold the edges. “So, I pinch here?”

“Close,” you said, reaching over to guide her hands. “Like this.”

Alexia glanced at you, her lips twitching into a small smile. “If I learn to make these, will you marry me sooner?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’ve already proposed, remember? No need to bribe me with pierogi.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “But what if I want to make you fall in love with me all over again?”

You laughed, your chest warming despite the lingering sadness. “Then you’re off to a good start.”

—————

When the table was finally set, you carefully placed the opłatek wafers in the center. Alexia’s family gathered around, curious but respectful as you explained the tradition in halting Spanish.

“Es para compartir bendiciones, blessings,” you said, fumbling over the words. Alexia stepped in to help translate, her hand brushing yours as she spoke.

One by one, her family broke pieces of the wafer with you, sharing kind words and wishes for the year ahead. When it was Alexia’s turn, she took a piece from your hand, her dark eyes locking onto yours.

“Wszystkiego najlepszego na święta,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion.

Alexia smiled, her accent clumsy but endearing as she repeated the words. “Wszystkiego… najlepszego… na święta.”

You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Perfect.”

“Did I say it right?” she asked, her expression earnest.

“Close enough,” you teased, wiping your eyes.

—————

Later that evening, after dinner and a few christmas songs, Alexia pulled you aside.

“I have something for you,” she said, leading you to the couch. She handed you a carefully wrapped box, her face glowing with anticipation.

You opened it slowly, revealing a scrapbook. On the cover was your name, written in both the Polish and Spanish version.

Inside, the pages were filled with photos and mementos Alexia had collected throughout your relationship. There were pictures from your first date, tickets from your trip to Poland, and pressed flowers from the bouquet she’d given you when she proposed. But what caught your breath was the final page—a letter, written in her slightly messy Polish handwriting.

“I know I didn’t get everything right,” she said nervously. “I had help from a translation app and your friends, but…”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you read the words. It was a promise to always honor your traditions, to build a life together filled with love and understanding.

“Alexia…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

She smiled softly, wiping a tear from your cheek. “I wanted you to know that even if your family doesn’t see you, I do. And I always will.”

You threw your arms around her, holding her as tightly as you could. “I love you so much,” you whispered.

“Te amo más,” she replied, her voice steady.

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of her love and the home you were building together, you realized that while some wounds might take time to heal, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[slavicafire]

while I dislike christmas, I do really like the food - shocker - and most importantly I love the fact that because my family comes from different parts with different habits, we have THREE soups. fish (my beloved) mushroom (amazing) and barszcz (alright)

[sneakydraws]

i wanna see fifty five goldfinch pieces 💔💔

OKAY!! So I have this little series I like to call the great decompartmentalisation of Theo decker... Let me walk you through it. I promise there's art after the massive paragraph of meandering analysis alright

You know how Theo's life is segmented into these distinct episodes? And how he himself is split into multiple different identities, and how much shame and fear there is associated with the idea of those identities mixing? For example: the straight a student living a completely, delusionally idyllic life with his adoring mother and the vanilla teenage troublemaker breaking into people's summer homes with his shady homoerotic bestie. When the two identities come into contact via his suspension, it leads to the most traumatic event in Theo's life, and honestly I suspect that might be the origin of this tendency towards compartmentalisation... I could go through the whole book here but the most prominent examples are Theo panicking at the thought of Mrs Barbour or his therapist finding out about Hobie, his cutting himself off from New York when in Vegas with his other shady homoerotic bestie (the amount of times Vegas is compared to an alien planet...) and his dual post timeskip identifies of charming antiques salesman/fraudulent art stealing junkie. And this often manifests in Theo's reluctance to let people from his different periods interact - see him rushing to stop Boris from talking to Pippa, and him keeping Hobie in the dark about the blackmail, and isn't it kind of weird that the barbours - Theo's soon to be legal family - don't really interact with Hobie and Pippa? Anyway. Basically I thought it would be cool to make a series of little vignettes of theo allowing the people and places and things that represent various versions of Him to interact and thus symbolically healing the disconnected parts of himself... Or something. I have more ideas scribbled down but somehow the only ones I ended up with proper art for is the various holidays (which, holidays are also a weirdly prevalent theme in tgf? Idk whats up with that but it's a good tool for this purpose) so we have:

Christmas Eve at Boris's, featuring Pippa and Hobie - I feel kinda bad for only ever portraying Boris with polish customs but let's be real I'm just using him to show off my own heritage lol. In Poland the main Xmas celebrations happen on Xmas Eve, traditionally with the appearance of the first star in the sky. You eat the mostly inoffensive barszcz as well some truly vile shit, such as mushroom and cabbage dumplings, mushroom and cabbage salad, other items made of mushrooms and cabbage, and finally the most disgusting dish of my life: Jewish style carp. No, it's not quite the same thing as gefiltefish, although that's the Wikipedia page you might use to get to the actual dish. All washed down with compote which I hate. You also break and eat communion wafers while wishing each other stuff, which Pippa is doing with popchyk here hehe

Christmas breakfast as a little bonus despite it not having much of a tradition - I associate it with lots of hams/cured meats, gherkins and maybe Tatar sauce (yum). Much superior to the Xmas dinner imho. Really I just wanted Theo and Boris to have a moment to themselves haha

Christmas proper at the barbours, featuring Boris and Tom cable! I could talk about all the tension and who's diffusing it but honestly I think y'all can draw your own conclusions lol. I just think it would be really funny for the infamous dis-engaged couple to each bring their delinquent boytoys and for Boris the drug dealer to actually come out looking superior

Vegetarian friendly Thanksgiving at Hobie's, as tradition requires! I think he'd love to throw one of his big Thanksgiving parties purely for all of Theo's families to get to know each other... you know, kind of an elaboration on that Thanksgiving illustration I drew a while back! This would be before all the Christmases I think. Boris is winning Mrs Barbour over with his roguish charm lol I think old ladies would like him... Theo in the corner freaking the hell out as per this project's mission statement lmao

And on a slightly different note I wanted Theo Pippa and Hobie to all visit weltys grave. I'm borrowing slightly from the polish tradition of all saint's day, when you clean, decorate and light candles on the graves of loved ones.

[mariacallous]

What makes a borscht a borscht? I often get asked this question when I share a recipe for any variation other than the beet-based gold standard borscht.

Borscht (aka borsch orborshch) is in fact defined as a “sour soup.” Any pot of borscht requires tanginess, whether it is red, green or white. That essential sour component in borscht can be achieved from the addition of citrus, a fermented wheat starter, vinegar, pickling liquid, tomato or sauerkraut. The word “borscht” is believed to have been derived from the Slavic word for hogweed, borschevik — a plant in the carrot family that was both frequently fermented and used in soups in early Slavic cuisine. Some date the origin of borscht as far back as the 14th century Ukraine, and differing styles of borscht have long remained common across the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. As Ashkenazi Jews fled the Russian empire at the end of the 19th century, they helped popularize borscht in the far flung places where they emigrated, and notably in the United States.

Ukrainian cuisine is widely known for its deep scarlet beet borscht, and sometimes for its springy sorrel-laden green borscht. In Poland, borscht can take on a white form, which is also called “biały barszcz” or“zurek.” It can be referred to as Polish Easter soup, sour rye soup or sourdough soup, as it can be made with a fermented flour starter for that element of tang. Just like red borscht, you’ll find different iterations of white borscht depending on what region you’re in, what home cook you’re talking to, or what restaurant you’re eating at. 

While there are many excellent recipes readily available for white borscht, I humbly offer my version, which is inspired by my family’s style of borscht, as well as my personal preferences. In this white borscht, the subtle puckeryness comes both from the inclusion of sourdough bread and fresh lemon juice, the latter being an ingredient my baba (grandmother) always added to her borscht regardless of its color. 

This is all to say, make your white borscht the way that feels best to you: puree it or leave it chunky, add sourdough or rye or neither, make it with smoked sausage or keep it meat-free (see notes for more suggestions and swaps). I personally love to add mild, sweet cabbage to my white borscht, and I always top it with copious amounts of freshly chopped dill. 

However you decide to tweak this hearty soup, please know it is an antidote to a chill in the air, to a sun that sets too early, to a tummy that needs filling, and it is a celebration of the humble potato and cabbage, from which so many of my ancestral dishes seem to come from. As we said in our home prior to eating, “priyatnogo appetita,” or as you might say in yours, bete’avon!

Notes:

To make this gluten-free: Use gluten-free sourdough, or omit the bread entirely, and swap with an additional potato.

To make this vegetarian/vegan: Omit the sausage and swap vegetable broth or vegan bouillon for chicken stock. The soup will be less smoky without sausage, but it is still a delicious vegetable soup. Make sure to season generously with salt and pepper. Top with sour cream at the end for extra richness.

For extra texture: when adding the sliced sausage back to the pot, reserve ½ of the slices and fry them up in a pan just before serving; then top each bowl with browned rounds of the sausage. Sourdough croutons also make for a great textural topping. 

If you don’t have a blender or food processor: You can keep this soup chunky and skip pureeing it, but I’d suggest omitting the sourdough bread, and instead replacing it with more fresh lemon juice or another acidic component like vinegar or sauerkraut. 

Make ahead: White borscht lasts up to one week in the fridge, and up to three months frozen. 

[10-days-of-freakin-olives]

so I was going through Tasting History with Max Miller

(quality content, pls go and subscribe, my little food-archaeology-loving heart adores that channel)

and today I got around to watching the borshch (/borsch/borscht/barszcz) video, which means that TIL that the Soviet Union put out a book in the 30s called

The Book About Tasty and Healthy Food. To the Soviet Housewife from the People's Commisariat of the Food Industry

and that apparently everyone just called it

The Book

which is both way more culinarily ominous and somehow therefore infinitely more stereotypically Slavic.

Like.

They didn't shorten it to The Book About Tasty and Healthy Food, or call it The Cookbook or something

no, they called it The Book.

110% The Book About Tasty and Healthy Food. To the Soviet Housewife from the People's Commisariat of the Food Industry is a regular cookbook with a boring cover and neatly printed recipes

but The Book is 120% some kind of cursed leather-bound grimoire stained with unrecognizable ingredients from magical concoctions and written in the spiky dramatic scrawl of a long-dead slightly-mad wise woman

Yanno?

"We're having borshch tonight - bring me...The Book About Tasty and Healthy Food. To the Soviet Housewife from the People's Commisariat of the Food Industry" is an insane thing to say, for sure.

But somehow

"We're having borshch tonight - bring me...The Book" is both more sensible and more threatening at the same time

and I think that's beautiful

unrelated but that video also made me cry so thanks for that Mr. Max Miller

[tiredpoet7]

🎀 21.12

850 kcal, 10.000 kroków, 45 minut ćwiczeń

boszee jakie mam zakwasy ja udach. ćwiczyłam jakiś koreański trening, nie był mocny ale polegał bardziej na rozciągnięciu tej wewnętrznej strony. u mnie w szkole dziś skrócone lekcje, jutro również + jedynie do 12. zamierzam posiedzieć z 1.5 godziny na tej wigilii, wypić barszcz, może zjeść mandarynkę i do domu najwcześniejszym autobusem.

trochę się podekscytowałam na sobotę, jadę z siostrami na zakupy. prezenty, pewnie coś do ciast oraz na pewno muszę zajść do galerii bo nie mam praktycznie żadnych spodni xd ostatnio jedne zalałam kawą, w drugich przejechałam dupą po asfalcie i obie pary nie do odratowania.

dziś oglądany drugi odcinek percy'ego jacksona, z niecierpliwością czekam na środę na kolejny.

miałam się uczyć na ostatnią w tym roku kartkówkę, ale zamiast tego zrobiłam sobie paznokcie. mogłam poczekać aż zejdzie mi potreningowa opuchlizna dłoni i założyć jakiś pierścionek dla ładniejszego zdjęcia. nie są idealne, średnio mi to wychodzi xd

dzień 21 — write about LOVE.

słówko podkreślone, więc chyba powinnam wymyśleć coś kreatywnego. ale czy mam coś w tej kwestii wielkiego do powiedzenia? nie za bardzo.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Whirling in Rags, 8 AM

"A police woman."

HORSE-FACED WOMAN - "Yes..." Her voice is quiet. "A police woman who just wants to do her job, that's all," she says quietly and looks away.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something about the man with sunglasses and you, the energy between you two, is making her uncomfortable.

5. "Okay. Good-bye." [Leave.]

Alright, let's have another look at the bullet.

FRACTURED BULLET - The bullet is still safely sealed away in a plastic bag bearing the RCM stamp.

4. [Hand/Eye Coordination - Legendary 14] Try to determine what type of weapon shot this.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Legendary: Success] - You can't remember what happened last week -- what makes you think you're going to remember arcane firearm models?

-1 Morale

This is still a really hard check. It's probably worth waiting until we know more.

5. The bullet has nothing more to say. [Put it away.]

GORĄCY KUBEK - The man ponders his cooking utensils and gives you a little nod, acknowledging your presence.

"Do you know what's behind that door?" (Point to the blue door.)

"Leo said you're friends with Mañana. Is that true?"

"What is in that borscht you're making there?" (Point to the large pot.)

"You've got some impressive pots there."

"I don't think I need anything else. Stay masculine!" [Leave.]

GORĄCY KUBEK - The mention of 'Mañana' gets his attention. He smiles and delivers a whole slew of unfamiliar words and lively gestures. Then he falls silent again.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - They're friends.

2. "What is in that borscht you're making there?" (Point to the large pot.)

GORĄCY KUBEK - The man says a couple of sentences in that strange language of his and then seems to wait for you to speak.

"Yes." (Nod.)

"No." (Shake your head.)

"Sorry, I don't understand you."

GORĄCY KUBEK - Just one word. Sounds quizzical. Then he awaits your answer with his brow arched.

"Yes." (Nod.)

GORĄCY KUBEK - "*Barszcz* need…" He looks at the soup, then at you. "More *wódka*?" He picks up a bottle from the shelf.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Okay, so it's vodka that keeps the men happy and in good spirits." He nods. "Clever move by the Union."

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - Vodka-borscht! I love it, *bratan*! Turn it the fuck up and then ask for some yourself.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - Turning it up seems like a dangerous idea, honestly. The place is a powder keg.

[bluegekk0]

Would feral pk like barszcz biały? because i love it. just like i love them

i was literally just talking to the gc about pk drawing a polish fiat 126p helppp the timing 😭😭😭

but yes. yes he would. he would also LOVE kotlet schabowy and pierogi. a lot of polish food would be right up his alley (especially considering how much of it is meat based)

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

Polish Remus and Balkan Barty will forever be my fav thing ever they are menaces and I LOVE THEM FOR IT.

when they get together their slavic nature just fuckin amplifies. those are some barszcz slurping tea chugging motherfuckers. they have rugs all over their apartments and jars of kompot in their fridge from their babcias and when they're two hours late to every party it's just normal. they wear pajamas that are a matching shirt and pants. barty drinks rakia like its fuckin water. injured? he puts rakia on the wound. itchy skin? rakia. cold feet? rakia. they're suspicious of everyone and everything they eat is flavoured with onions and garlic. they hold their garbage with grocery bags. they have high cheekbones. i could keep going

[flowerandblood]

✨❤️ Spreading some love and joy in people's ask boxes ❤️✨

If you get this, it means you're awesome, and I hope you're having a great day! Now copy and paste this message to at least 3 other blogs to keep it going!

Then answer to show you're done: What are your three favorite food? 🥰💕

Thank you sweetheart! I love spaghetti, pierogi and barszcz!!!! 🥸🥸🥸🥸

[t-lane-writes]

Aaaahhhh... weekend. I love weekend.

Finished re-reading Specters. Plan for today and tomorrow is to re-read notes, things I removed while writing draft 1 (version 1), but may need to put back in, worldbuilding, character sheets and some other stuff.

Then, on Monday I might start to re-write that first draft into version 2 (lol, because no, it will not be a draft 2 still. ;)

Then again, I have three work-articles to write until the end of the month, Dad's birthday today, and starting Xmass preparations (mainly making orange nalewka; barszcz (borscht) is planned for next week, then piernik (gingerbread), and then all the other food...). Oh, and buying presents. Sheesh, it's another busy weekend. ;)

But writing first!

[council-of-beetroot]

Tell us your opinions on beetroots to keep your url /jk

I like beetroots they usually taste good but every once in a while they don't. Anytime I go to the relatives they have pickled beets so I'll eat those along with the pierogi and all that stuff and it will turn the pierogi pink. It's also very entertaining that beetroots turn your piss red, very cool.

One of my favourite snacks that I've had to cut down on because they are expensive are these rhythm dried beets.

They put them on the top shelf at the whole foods so my short ass self has to climb the shelves to get them.

I have a problem...

Now that I'm thinking about it I really should put in that order for instant barszcz mix from the polish store.

Also what I love about beets is that even buying organic they are super fucking cheap.

I really need to learn how to properly roast them then I'll be in business.