Yeasted Bliny: A Few Days Late but Still Delicious
Hello and welcome to Chesnok: Notes from a Post-Soviet Kitchen. If you’re here and somehow not already subscribed, well, here you go:
From here on out, I’m committing to sending out a bi-monthly newsletter—one on the first Sunday of the month and the other on the third Sunday. For now I will keep things free to all subscribers, but as I get into a rhythm, I will start putting up a paywall on some of the posts. Thank you to all who support my work and especially those who choose to do so monetarily. I appreciate it more than you know!
Now on to today’s dispatch…
Someone recently wrote to me saying something along the lines of “I don’t know how you juggle all of this plus a family.” Well, the short and sweet of it is… I do my best, but it doesn’t take much for things to go off script. For example, I initially wanted this post to go out in time for Maslenitsa (Slavic Mardi Gras if you will) or Fat Tuesday last week, but then I got a ring from Anton’s school the week prior saying that he had laid himself face down on the ground at recess, wouldn’t budge, and was burning up a fever. Cool! I’m still not sure what he had, but it kept him—and me—home for the rest of the week. Throw in a few very interrupted nights of sleep thanks to sick child and a husband who had to work through the weekend and let’s just say, nothing was written. If you’re a parent, I’m sure this is a familiar story.
So, I present to you my Yeasted Bliny (Slavic-style crepes), albeit a few days late. But you know what? You don’t need some gluttonous holiday as an excuse to make these lacy crepes. They’re good all year-round!
I was initially going to include these bliny in my upcoming cookbook, but we were pushing too many crepe recipes (yes, apparently there is such a thing) and, as a result, decided to cut this one. So, consider this a bonus and sneak peek! We’re very close to finalizing the design and cover of the book, after which it’ll be off to the printers at the end of this month. Can’t wait to share with you more (and of course a pre-order link ;)) as we inch closer to the publication date, which will be September 16th.
But, ok, back to bliny1. While thin, melt-in-your-mouth blinchiki (akin to French crepes) are the stuff sugar-dazed, Saturday mornings are made of; thick, lacy bliny are a whole different matter. Made for special occasions, bliny are slightly more involved and yeasted, involving a sponge2 and a long overnight rest in the fridge. The effort pays off, though. The flavor is complex and pleasantly tangy, while the texture is spongy and chewy without being dense. A serious, grown-up version of blinchiki.
When the New Year rolls around, or whenever I’m feeling a bit sophisticated, I make a stack of bliny and eat them in style—with lots of roe, smoked fish, sieved eggs, fancy butter, chives, creme fraiche, and the like. But, what ends up happening more often is that I just dig out all the jams/compotes, honey/syrups/half-opened can of sweetened condensed milk, nut butters, dairy (sour cream is a must), and fresh fruit that I have in my fridge and let everyone go to town. You really can’t go wrong.
Just note, these are not the chubby, diminutive-sized bliny you often see at restaurants here in the U.S.. Like blinchiki, they are wide and thin; and also like blinchiki, to serve, fold in half, and then in half again before topping or dipping.
If you’re observing Lent, I’m sorry these didn’t make the cut off. All the more to look forward to when it’s time to break your fast! Either way, please do give these bliny a try and let me know what you think.
Yeasted Bliny
Makes about 15 bliny
Sponge:
1 cup (240 g) warm water
1 cup (130 g) all-purpose flour
1 ¾ teaspoon instant yeast
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
Batter:
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 large eggs, separated
¼ cup (55 g) unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
2 cups (480 g) warm or room temperature milk
2 cups (260 grams) all-purpose flour
Unsalted butter, cold
To make the sponge: In a large bowl, whisk together sponge ingredients to combine. Cover with a kitchen towel and let sit in a warm place until doubled in size and bubbly, 1 to 1 ½ hours.
When the sponge is ready, whisk in the sugar, salt, egg yolks (the whites reserved for latter), and melted butter. Sift in one-third of the flour and whisk to combine, followed by one-third of the milk. Repeat the process until all of the flour and milk is incorporated and the batter is smooth. Cover in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.
To make the batter: Two to three hours before you’re ready to cook the bliny, take out the batter (which should have doubled in size at this point and be bubbly) and egg whites; give the batter a good stir and let it, along with the whites, fully come to room temperature.
When the sponge is ready, whip the egg whites in a medium bowl until medium firm peaks form. Gently fold whipped egg whites into the batter. The batter should be the consistency of a frothy thin milkshake—fold in more milk if needed to thin it out.
When ready to cook your bliny, have a large plate and cold stick of butter at the ready. Heat a 10-inch (25 cm) non-stick skillet over medium heat. Use the stick of butter to swipe a thin layer over the bottom of the pan.
With the pan an on angle, ladle about a scant ⅓ cup (85 g) of the batter into the pan, while simultaneously tilting the pan in a circular motion. The batter will spread slowly and the result will be a bit thicker than your usual crepe. Cook until the edges begin to brown, the bottom is a golden brown, and the top looks set, about 1 minute. Use your fingers to loosen the edge closest to you from the pan; and use your fingers—or slip a rubber spatula underneath the blin—to flip. Cook until the bottom is firm and golden in patches, another 20 to 30 seconds. Turn out onto a large plate (the bottom should be facing up now) and swipe butter all over to give it a nice glossy finish. Repeat the process, stacking and buttering the cooked bliny as they’re done, until no more batter remains. Serve immediately. Well wrapped, any leftover bliny can be kept refrigerated (and warmed up in the pan) for up to 2 to 3 days.
What I’m…
Eating: Last week I made
’s miso sweet potato and broccoli bowl which I’ve prepared so many times at this point I don’t even need the recipe. From Alissa Timoshkina’s new book Kapusta: Varza a la Cluj (A Romanian Sauerkraut, Meat, and Grains Bake) and Tzimmes Carrot Cake - both excellent. And lastly, highly recommend giving ’s Tahini Granola w/ Five Seeds + Brown Sugar a try! Will be eating it on repeat for the next week!Watching: White Lotus, obviously (although maybe it’s just me, but I’m still warming up to it…).
Reading: The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon is my current fantasy fix. Also, about to start Sandwich by Catherine Newman per
’s recommendation!Buying: I went on a little culinary shopping spree (my type of retail therapy) the other weekend while my mom had Anton over for a sleepover. An Emile Henry The Right Dish Rectangular Baker in Cedar because I wanted something nicer than my Pyrex glass workhorse- promptly used it to bake the aforementioned Romanian dish. Spaghetti Dust - a garlic, calabrian chile, dried parsley, and salt spice blend that, in addition to making the Italian classic Aglio Olio e Peperoncino, can be used to top everything from steak to pizza to grilled veggies. So far, we’re fans!
Donating to: Good Bread based in Kyiv (thank you
for telling me about them!). They employ mentally disabled people (giving them not only employment but community!) and, along with other volunteers and bakers, make bread and hot meals for people in need. They deliver loaves not only to neighboring villages and towns of Kyiv, but also as far as Kharkiv and the regions of Kherson and Donetsk. Unfortunately, because of Trump’s freeze on USAID, they have lost all of their funding through Nova Ukraine (who in turn gets support via USAID), and are now limited to what they can do. If you don’t have $ to spare, please consider sharing their website or Instagram (they also have an account in English) with others.
If you’ve made it this far —thanks for reading, subscribing, and sharing. If it’s not too much trouble, please consider “hearting” this post!
Until next time,
Polina
Bliny. Blinchiki. What’s the difference? Colloquially, you’ll often find these terms employed interchangeably. However, if you do some research, there is technically a difference. Bliny tend to be made with a yeasted batter, while blinchiki are prepared with a “quick” unleavened batter similar to French crepes (although I’ve seen some cooks add baking soda/lemon juice or vinegar to their blinchiki batter to get that iconic laciness). Blinchiki is also used to refer to filled crepes, whether they’re sweet or savory—what you may know here in the US, thanks to Ashkenazi Jews, as blintzes. Of course in other parts of Eastern Europe, like Ukraine, Belarus, and Poland, crepes (filled or not) can also go by as mlyntsi and nalysnyky. However you call them, they’re all delicious.
I’m sure some of you sourdough heads can—and may want to—figure out how to make these with a natural starter or discard. If you do, please let me know!
Funnily enough, we have Pancake Tuesday every week in our household! These look delicious—and I’m really curious about those luscious looking cherries!
Thank you so much for the donation to Good Bread!