Dispatches from Ukraine

Passport & Plate - Ukrainian Beet Salad (Vinegret)

Ingredients
5-6 medium-sized beets, roasted and peeled (or pickled beets) and grated

2 large carrots, grated

1 cup sauerkraut (or shredded cabbage marinated in oil and vinegar)

5 chopped scallions or 1/2 white onion, chopped

3 medium sized dill pickles, shredded

1/4 cup pickle brine or apple cider vinegar

cooked white beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 cup olive oil or other salad oil

salt, pepper and chopped garlic, to taste

 

How to prepare this recipe
Combine vegetables, beans, seasonings and liquids together in a bowl and gently fold together with a rubber spatula until vegetables are coated.

Cover and allow mixture to sit in bowl at room temperature for 1 hour or overnight in the refrigerator.

Fill ramekins with mixture using the rubber spatula and turn out onto plate to serve, garnishing with chopped scallions or sprigs of dill.

 

The story behind this recipe
While touring the ruins of the Chernobyl disaster (Pripyat) some friends and I got to stay at the Chernobyl Hotel. The fee for the tour of the abandoned city included lunch and dinner in the hotel's dining room. A small army of plump middle-aged women had prepared for us the most delicious meal, which included several courses. My vegetarianism was, for the moment, overlooked as I feasted on fish, beef, soup and a dish I had never tried before: vinagret, a shredded beet salad that was one of the most delicious foods I had ever tasted. An indifferent beet-eater at best, I was skeptical that I would like it but after a few bites I was hooked and quickly polished off the salad my compatriots had turned up their noses at. Despite instructions to stay in our rooms, the large meal had made us all a bit logey so we snuck out and walked around the military compound in the cool November evening. I was carrying a bottle of Moldavian wine I had snuck into the Exclusion Zone and asked the young Polish man who had joined us if he would like any. We took turns taking swigs of the wine until there was about a half-bottle left. By that time we had found our way back to the hotel but the door was locked. The men in our group (all except me) tried knocking but no one came to the door. "Stand aside, I want to try something." I strode up to the door and, using my whole forearm, I thumped against the door five times as hard as I could. We could hear a door slamming inside and a very red-faced man came to the door. We asked to be let in but he just pointed to the sign with the 10 pm curfew and shook his head. We had been told not to leave the hotel. Suspecting the fellow to be intoxicated I said, "I have a half-bottle of wine that says you'll let us back into the hotel." I shook the bottle back and forth under his nose and without a word he grabbed it and turned around, leaving the door wide open. The young gentlemen I was traveling with could only turn to me in shocked disbelief.