Leftovers kulebiak recipe

Life has taken a strange turn for me, and I'm in a situation that I've never been in before, trying to feel my way through it... I can't quite describe it to you as it's still in the process of changing and fluctuating and I'm not really sure what is happening or even what I want to happen. I'm finding comfort in Eastbourne.

Our house here stands on a hill next to the Downs national park with a view to the sea in the distance. I always find that nature both soothes and teaches me. One day the sun's so warm and strong that the wild flowers on the downs give off a heady smell that I can't get enough of and reminds me of Greece; the very next day could look the same, but as soon as you step outside you realize that it's fresh, cool and windy. One day the sea is dark and serious, on another it's so soft that appears to not even be there, melting into the sky. So I ask myself, why would we expect anything else from life? All we can do is be authentic, speak our truth and accept the current situation. Accepting is the hard part, I find. Cooking always helps to take me away from the past and into the present moment, especially cooking leftovers, which is, of course, the art of improvisation. We stuffed this "kulebiak" pie with mushrooms, onions, kale and a yellow pepper, all fried on olive oil with soya sauce and little bit of white wine, then cooled and finally mixed with grated cheddar cheese and an egg, to stick it all together.

 You can stuff "kulebiak" with any leftovers you like. We've used onion, mushrooms, spinach and soft cheese with garlic and herbs before and this worked out beautifully too. The general idea is to fry the onion first (or garlic if you have no onion), then add any other leftover ingredients and flavours - soya sauce, wine, cream, chilli sauce, anything you like really. Remember to season, the allow to cool before mixing with hard or soft cheese and an egg, or even just some egg white. The important constant is the dough, which is very easy to make. Simply combine all the ingredients down there with your hands until they form a soft ball. Split it into two balls and put it in the fridge for 1 hour, before rolling them both out. Cut out two equal rectangles and save the remaining dough for decoration. I made odd looking flowers and leaves to go on top, but it really didn't matter: anything looks good on top of a "kulebiak". Put your stuffing on one sheet of dough and the other sheet on top, pressing the edges down firmly with a fork. Use a little egg and cream to stick your decorations on and pain the entire kulebiak before putting it in the oven for 40min at 200 degrees C. Enjoy while it's still warm, washed down with borsht.

Ingredients:

400g flour
150g unsalted butter
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
Teaspoon of salt
180ml water from the fridge

1 egg and 1 teaspoon of cream for glazing

Filling:

Whatever you like

My mum's Ukrainian borsht

Last Saturday my brother and I rented a van, loaded it up with unwanted furniture and drove down to Eastbourne, on the South Coast. It was a beautiful, sunny weekend, more Spring than Winter, full of champagne (it was dad's birthday) and delicious food, with intermittent spurts of physical labour, family jokes and those insignificant arguments that our family are so prone to having. My mum cooked one of my favourite Polish soups - the "Ukrainian Borsht". Polish dish naming conventions can be massively confusing, yet I do believe that this particular borsht recipe, rich with meat, potatoes and beans, did in fact originate in the Ukraine. Since the Ukraine is only a few hours' drive east of Warsaw, it is very popular around our parts, and deservedly so. In my (entirely biased) opinion, out of all the borshts out there (and there are many, many), this is the best

We left on Sunday afternoon, feeling uplifted and energized, and drove through the cheerful Sussex countryside discussing the importance of having the right kind of people in your life. The kind that make you feel inspired and optimistic, and those that make you feel calm and content too, and the ultimate importance of being able to say goodbye to those that do the opposite

Ingredients

1 large rump steak
2 carrot, grated
2 parsnips, grated
2 celery stalks, chopped finely
1 leek, chopped finely
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon pimento berries
4 beetroot
1 tin chopped tomatoes
2 tins butter beans
3 potatoes
250ml double cream
Salt, pepper and sugar
Handful chopped parsley
Cup of beetroot juice (optional)

Make the meaty stock first - cook the steak with the pimento berries and bay leaf for about half an hour in a pan of cold water. Then, add the vegetables and potatoes. Cook the beets separately, then peel and cut into thin strips. Chuck them into the mix, along with the tin of tomatoes and butter beans. Remove the steak and chop into bitesize pieces before putting back into the soup. Season with salt, pepper and sugar now. If your soup is not red enough for your liking, you may add some beetroot juice. Allow to simmer for 10min, then add the double cream, parsley and season some more, to your own taste

Herrings under a fur coat aka salad "pod shuboy"

I remember eating this salad for the first time in St Petersburg. It was in the same building that Pushkin had his last glass of water - or it could have been a lemonade, no one is sure - before he went off to his fateful duel. It's remarkable to think that, until relatively recently, that was a perfectly acceptable way to handle certain disputes. Especially those of the heart, it would seem. It' very... Russian, isn't it? So romantic, so elegantly blasé, even in the face of death. So incredibly glamorous.
And St. Petersburg is incredibly glamorous. And eating this salad, in an elegant cafe on Nevsky Prospect, I felt incredibly glamorous too. I hope that if you make it, it will do the same for you

The salad itself is supposed to look like a cake, colourful and layered. The beetroot, apple, potato, carrot, egg and herring are a fantastic combination, complementing one another at every opportunity. Once you've made this salad a few times, you will probably have your own way with it - some people grate, others chop, the layers vary. I do a layer of herrings at the bottom, then onion, then potato, then the sauce, the beetroot, carrot, apple, eggs, another layer of sauce and dill on top

Ingredients

Herrings in oil - the simplest you can get
Red onion, finely sliced, or if you bought herrings with onion then use that
Potatoes, cooked and grated or sliced
Beetroot, cooked and grated
Carrots, grated
Granny Smith apple, grated
Eggs (4-5), hard boiled and chopped
Dill

Sauce

1/2 Mayo
1/2 Sour cream
Salt
White pepper

"Pascha" recipe - A Jewish/Russian creamy dessert

In my family "pascha" (the sweet, not the club) was considered to be a Jewish dish, but the recipe we  used is apparently Russian. Everything is quite mixed up in this part of the world. Especially the people, myself included. Although I'm Polish, my dad's mum was born in Lithuania, and his dad in Kazahstan. My mum's family have been living in this area (around Warsaw) for many years, although they do not look typically Polish. When trying to trace the family tree back, you get stuck on a guy a couple of generations back who was very dark and didn't speak the language. He ended up having six children with an ancestor of mine, and dying young, having never learnt to speak Polish, or even say whereabouts he actually came from. How you have six children with a man you can't communicate with is a mystery. Perhaps he was extremely good looking. And then there's no arguing or being disappointed because someone's views are so different to your own... on second thoughts, it could well be the secret of a successful relationship. Anyway, back to the probably Jewish, possibly Russian "pascha"

 Ingredients

1.5 kg soft white cheese, like ricotta

150g flaked almonds, toasted

250g soft butter

250g sugar

5 egg yolks

2tsp vanilla essence

300ml single cream

150g dried fruit (raisins, candied orange peel, chopped dates etc) 

 

The only slightly complicated thing about "pascha" is the mould. You need a plastic one. If it has a lid, then you'll need to put some holes in it, so the juices can flow out while it's cooling. If it doesn't have a lid, then you'll need to put a plate underneath it while it is setting. Obviously, you don't want the thing to fall out when you turn it over, so it's best to press a plate onto it when it's still upside down, and only turn it over, once it's already getting solid - that could take about an hour. And then there's the gauze. That will need to line the "tin" (it's in inverted commas, as it needs to be plastic, though I do wonder if a metal one wouldn't be just fine, as long as you didn't touch it when it was hot), and there will need to be enough to cover the "bottom" too (and this is in inverted commas, because it will be the top, when you are making it). I hope I haven't confused you. Here's a photo, which may illustrate things better than all my words

Right, put the soft butter in a large bowl. Start adding the sugar bit by bit and blending it in with a wooden spoon, followed by the egg yolks and white cheese - first, a bit of one then a bit of the other. Keep blending all the time. You could use an electric or manual blender for this, we preferred the good, old wooden spoon. When the mixture is creamy and fluffy, add the cream and pour into a large pan. In the meantime, toast the almond flakes. Now, you need to bring the mixture to boil, slowly, stirring all the time. This took us forever. My mum and myself took it in turns to stir, because it was so tiring, and took so much longer than we expected. Finally, when the bubbles appear, add the almonds and the dried fruit (all chopped up finely if it isn't small already, like a raisin). Now you can pour it into the gauze-lined mould, and take the steps I've already described. Cool for 12 hours. A lovely desert for a hot day