borscht

I like beets - they are sweet and viciously colorful. So colorful my sink looks like it is full of blood. I'm tempted to write a poem exonerating Lady McBeth, that the spots were only beet juice after all. So I made the borscht today, which I am glad of now because it means tomorrow will be much simpler in terms of cooking times. While reading over one of my cookbooks, I ran across a tidbit of Ukrainian superstitions about preparing borscht. Apparently if it is made on a Thursday, the devil will come to bathe in the pot. So as not to tempt fate or devils, I went ahead and cooked it today. So far so good - it is a lovely color now that all those pureed beets are in the pot. I think the stock came out pretty beautifully, so now it just must simmer away and meld.

I need an icon of that moment in The Office where Dwight bites into a big raw beet.