Welcoming spring (and you!) with Green Borsch

Hi, hello, a new newsletter from me + a recipe for the best spring soup ever.

Hello friends and welcome!

Whenever I tell others that I’m part Russian, I often find myself responding to the same old stereotypes: cold, harsh winters, burly men knocking back shots of vodka, and a penchant for “that soup with the beets.”

While wildly popular in Russia and throughout Eastern Europe, that soup with the beets—red borsch—is originally from Ukraine. Today, there are as many versions of borsch as there are cooks, but anyone will tell you that the best beet borsch is the one they grew up eating. Me included.

But come spring though, when bare branches turn lush and garden patches are dappled with blooms again, it's not red borscht I crave, but green. Borsch has become synonymous with the ruddy root vegetable, but, unbeknown to most, it is in fact an umbrella term for a number of sour soups without beets.

The star of green borscht is sorrel or in Ukrainian and Russian, shchavel (щавель). Somewhere between a lettuce and herb, sorrel has an intensely lemony tang that cuts through and brightens the soup’s rich broth. There’s also spinach (or nettles!), dill, and parsley; along with potatoes, golden onions, and carrots. Beaten egg is stirred in the end giving the soup some heft and a silky texture. It’s hearty, yet light, and supremely comforting and nourishing. And vegetarian! We make this green version for as long as sorrel is available and save its red counterpoint for the colder months.

My Aunt Olga picking sorrel in her garden circa 2017.

I’m still waiting for my sorrel to take off, so when my friend Linnea gifted me a whole bag’s worth from her garden last week, I jumped to make this soup. I cooked up a big pot over the weekend for my dear friend

Anna Brones

and her husband who were visiting. Over hot, steaming bowls and hearty bread smeared with green garlic butter we caught up on life and work and everything in between. At some point we started talking about her (very successful) Substack newsletter on creativity, which led to me sharing how I’ve been putting off starting one for the past year.

Anna’s advice? Just. start. writing. No need to have every single detail sorted or a big splashy launch planned. Otherwise, it’ll never happen. And why not just use the soup that we were eating to kick it off? So hello, here I am!

Chesnok is the Russian word for “garlic,” and is the root of my last name, Chesnakova. It also happens to be an integral ingredient of Georgian cuisine, which largely influences my family’s home cooking. I originally started Chesnok as a blog in 2015, as a tribute to my Russian and Georgian roots that at the same time tapped into the myriad other cultures that influenced me as a kid growing up in the post-Soviet diaspora. Chesnok, the newsletter, is an extension of that project and will be a supplement to my post-Soviet cookbook once that’s published.

My goal is show up here once a month and, when I’ve handed in my manuscript later this summer, start investing in this space more.

If you’ve been a long fan of my work and want to help support me in continuing it, please consider becoming a subscriber today! I can’t wait to start offering more essays, recipes, classes, interviews, and whatever else I dream up, but in the meantime, know you’ll have my eternal gratitude.

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If monetary support isn’t something you can swing, then please consider following (if you’re not already!) and forwarding this newsletter to someone you think might enjoy it. Or check out one of my books and support a local bookstore (or request it from your library!) while you’re at it.

Alright, that’s it! Please, please leave a note and say hi and what brought you here - excited to get this community growing :) And of course enjoy the recipe for green borsch below. I hope it brings you as much joy as it does me. Cheers to fresh beginnings!

Sorrel's season is from early spring to late fall. It's perennial, fast-growing, winter resistant, and packed with Vitamins A and C, potassium and iron.

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Green Borsch

Unless you grow it yourself, sorrel is not the most readily available green. For ultimate tang, you want slender, arrow-shaped Broad Leaf or French sorrel. If you don’t have enough or can’t find the green, supplement or substitute it with spinach, stinging nettles or a combination of both. To make up for sorrel’s tanginess, add the juice of one or two lemons at the end, until the soup is bright and puckering. Also, don’t throw away the stems. They’re tender and pack just as much flavor as the leaf.

Serves 4 to 6

2 medium russet potatoes, peeled, and cut into quarters
Diamond Crystal kosher salt
2 tablespoon sunflower or extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 large yellow onion, peeled, and chopped
2 medium carrots, peeled, cut into ¼-inch half moons
1 large bunch sorrel (see note), roughly chopped (5 ounces)
Large handful of fresh spinach or nettles, roughly chopped (2 ounces)
½ large bunch dill (about 30g), leaves and tender stems, finely chopped
¼ large bunch parsley (about 15 g), leaves and tender stems, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, pressed
2 eggs, lightly beaten
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes, plus more to taste

Sour cream and hearty bread, for serving

Place the potatoes in a large pot and fill with enough water to cover (2 to 2 1/2 quarts). Add 1 tablespoon salt, bring to a boil, cover with lid, leaving slightly ajar, and reduce heat to maintain a simmer and allow to cook for about 20 minutes, or until potatoes are fork tender. 

Meanwhile, in a large skillet or saucepan, warm the oil and butter over medium heat. Add the onions and pinch of salt and cook until softened and translucent, 5 to 6 minutes. Add the carrots and another pinch of salt. Cook the vegetables, stirring frequently, until their edges soften and they begin to take on some golden color and they begin to stick to the bottom of the pan, 15 to 20 minutes. This is called a perezharka or zazharka and, sometimes along with pepper and other veggies, makes the basis of many Slavic soups. You want the vegetables to slowly caramelize and sweeten, not burn, but still have a bite, so make sure you stir often and lower the heat if needed.

Once the potatoes are done, scoop them up and break them into bite-sized pieces with a fork or the tip of a spoon. Let the potatoes fall back into the soup. 

Stir in the onion-carrot mixture. Bring to a simmer again and add the greens, in batches if needed, and then the herbs and garlic. It is important to not overcook the delicate greens—you want to preserve their brightness. As soon as the borsch begins to simmer again, about a minute or two, it’s ready for the eggs.

Slowly pour in the beaten eggs in a circular motion, gently stirring the borscht with your other hand. Let the soup stand for a few seconds to finish cooking the eggs. Remove from heat.

Taste and season with salt and red pepper flakes. Allow the borscht to sit for 30 minutes for flavors to meld. Give the soup a good, but gentle stir, before serving hot with a generous dollop of sour cream - in the soup and smeared on some hearty bread, as I was taught to do. As with most soups, it’s even better the next day.