Sunflower & Honey Sandwich Bread đźŚ»

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My heart has ached this week, at the approach of today’s one-year anniversary of Russia’s unprovoked attack on Ukraine. The people of that nation have stunned the world with their incredible resilience and dedication to their country. Many brave men, women and families have refused to leave in the wake of hostile invasion and are living under constant threat amid air raid sirens, bombings and widespread power outages. They are truly an inspiration.

The older I get, the more grateful I am to have never experienced true hardship or food insecurity, and when stories like the ones emerging from Ukraine are presented, I want to do something, anything, to help. It isn’t possible, of course, for me to make a huge meal to help people on the other side of the world, but I am proud to support an organization that puts itself on the front line to do exactly that.

In a few days, my husband and I will be in attendance for a lecture by Chef JosĂ© AndrĂ©s, the founder of World Central Kitchen, a non-profit organization that has spent the last year bringing much needed food and comfort to war-torn Ukraine, as well as other regions stricken by climate disaster and other catastrophic situations— usually, it even juggles multiple relief efforts at once (see a sampling of their current work here). That’s how strong they are!

The decision to support a relief organization is personal, and if you’re like me, you do some homework to be sure your money is being used responsibly. I am extremely impressed by the integrity of World Central Kitchen, which has earned an A+ rating from charitywatch.org, and meets or exceeds all its requirements for governance and transparency. The organization is powered by thousands of volunteers, professional and amateur, and they are able to activate and mobilize very quickly when a crisis occurs. Yesterday, I also registered to be a volunteer; if a crisis occurs near me, I’m already signed up and ready to go. Giving and volunteering is easy to do on the WCK website.

I cannot make enough bread in my kitchen to feed the people of Ukraine, but I have great confidence in knowing that my tax-deductible contributions to World Central Kitchen are used wisely and effectively to care for the people whose hardships weigh heavily on me. If you also wish you could do something to help, I hope you’ll consider partnering with this exceptional effort. 

If I could make enough bread to make a difference, I’d make a million loaves of this one, mostly because it’s a hearty and nutritious whole grain loaf, but also because it is sweetened with honey and embellished inside and out with sunflower seeds. The beautiful sunflower is the national flower of Ukraine, and also happens to be a favorite of honeybees. To me, a bread like this is a reminder that we are all connected on this big blue ball we call home.

This bread is an adaptation of my favorite sourdough sandwich bread, and the substitutions I made were easy. 

Rather than repeat all the instruction I’ve already given for my basic bread, I’ll point to what I did differently for this one, and trust you’ll find your way back to my earlier post if you need more visual information. This bread, like the other, depends on a portion of fed, ripe sourdough starter. It uses a special technique of pre-cooking a portion of the flour in milk, then cooling it before adding to the recipe. 

I swapped in a generous amount of white whole wheat flour as well as a portion of an ancient grains blend flour from King Arthur, called Super 10. This super-nutritious flour includes quinoa,  buckwheat, amaranth and millet, among others. It gives my bread a flavor and texture boost without making it dense or heavy. I nearly doubled the amount of honey from my base recipe, and used the stretch-and-fold phase of the fermentation to fold in about a half cup of toasted sunflower seeds. This dough is very sticky, thanks to the ancient grains and high hydration, so use wet hands to complete the stretches. This is a gentle but effective way to knead the dough and incorporate the extra ingredient of seeds.

When the dough was ready for shaping, I used wet hands again to form a loaf, and then moistened the underside and rolled it lightly in additional sunflower seeds before placing it in my baking pan. Then, I baked the loaf as directed in my original post. Use a steam pan for the first 20 minutes, and a tent foil for the remainder of the baking time.

Rise and shine! 🌻

We love a good sandwich bread at our house. My husband filled two slices of this one with tuna salad for lunch, and I’ve already enjoyed it toasted with breakfast. Without a doubt, this bread will become a regular item in our rotation, and with every loaf I pull from the oven, I’ll hold the mighty people of Ukraine in my heart. 💙💛

White Borscht

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Like many of you, I have been filled with agony over Russia’s violent aggression against Ukraine, disgusted by the flippant and cavalier attitudes presented by deniers and Putin sympathizers, and worried that there is little I can do to make a tangible difference in the lives of the Ukrainian people. And yet I feel a kinship with them and want to do something, anything, to show my support.

One of the primary reasons I started Comfort du Jour was to build community with others who, like me, feel deeply connected to the world through food. It is the most universal need of humanity, yet very personal because of the customs and traditions woven into our individual and collective heritage.

Last week, a message from Sam Sifton, the founding editor of New York Times Cooking, arrived in my email inbox and it confirmed that I am not alone in this desire to use food to demonstrate solidarity. Sifton described being inundated with reader requests for recipes for borscht, a traditional sour soup that is common across all of Eastern Europe, most notably with Ukraine. I could not resist digging into the variety of recipes he offered in response to his readers, and this one in particular caught my eye.

Most borscht recipes are based on red beets, and though I adore their earthy flavor, my husband (whose Hungarian mother used to make beet borscht for herself) does not. This version, named “white borscht” by chef and author Gabrielle Hamilton, features potatoes and kielbasa, and seemed more in line with my husband’s palate. The original recipe suggests using real pork kielbasa, but I have substituted a lower fat turkey kielbasa. I also cut the butter amount in half and stirred in a little sour cream at the end rather than the crème fraiche suggested by the recipe’s author.

The sour cream and dill add a touch of freshness to this hearty, humble soup.

As always, my exploration into other cultures’ cuisine has taught me some lessons, and one thing about this soup surprised me. I have long assumed that Eastern European soups are “sour” because of fermentation or added vinegar (and sometimes they are), but this soup is both soured and thickened with a hefty chunk of sourdough bread, which I always happen to have on hand. This method of soaking and pureeing the bread was a genius move by the author, as it gave the soup a sturdy, almost creamy, texture, as well as a distinctive sour flavor. Always more to learn in the world of food, isn’t there?

My only regret is that I cannot make an enormous vessel of this soup to feed and comfort all of Ukraine, but I hope that somehow, sharing this experience will ripple across time and space to ensure the courageous people of that nation that they do not stand alone. 🇺🇦

Adapted from https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1021711-white-borscht

Note: The original recipe linked above is only available to paid subscribers of New York Times Cooking (which I am), but my adaptation is very close to the original, except for the aforementioned substitutions and the fact that I halved the recipe for our family of two.

Ingredients

1 lb. smoked turkey kielbasa, cut into three or four pieces

6 cups filtered water

2 dried bay leaves

4 Tbsp. salted butter, divided

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, smashed and minced

1 large leek, cleaned and cut into thin half-moon slices

Kosher salt and about 1 tsp. ground black pepper

A large piece of dense sourdough bread*, crusts trimmed (see notes)

1 1/2 lbs. russet potatoes, peeled

About 1 cup chicken or vegetable broth*

Sour cream and fresh dill for serving

*Notes

Note that real sourdough bread is made from a sourdough starter. Some grocery bakeries take a shortcut that embellishes yeast bread with citric acid, and it is not the same. If you don’t have sourdough bread, consider picking up a loaf from an authentic bakery or use a (seedless) rye. I confess that the sourdough loaf I had on hand was dotted with pumpkin seeds, but after pureeing, this did not have a bad effect on the finished borscht.

The recipe that inspired me did not call for broth, other than the one created by simmering the kielbasa, but in my first-attempt jitters, I accidentally simmered my soup longer than I should have and needed more liquid to keep it from becoming mashed potatoes. It isn’t a bad idea to have some broth at the ready for this purpose. I used a version of vegetable broth called “No-Chicken” broth, and it was perfect for making up the difference in liquid without affecting flavor.

Instructions

  • The broth develops when you simmer the kielbasa in water. Add a couple of bay leaves for extra flavor.
  • It’s very important to properly clean leeks. Slice it lengthwise, then into half moons and soak them in a large bowl with cold water.
  • Swoosh the sliced leeks around with your hand and allow time for the sandy grit to settle to the bottom. After about 20 minutes, carefully scoop out the leeks, leaving the grit behind.
  • The scrap edges and ends of the potatoes will be used earlier in the recipe, so put them in a separate pile when you do your prep.
  • The only sourdough I had on hand was this loaf, with polenta and pumpkin seeds baked into it. I cut a large chunk of it and trimmed away all of the crust.
  • Looks like “beige” is the colour du jour for this soup!
  • After a nice long simmer, the kielbasa has plumped and infused the water with a smoky flavor and droplets of oil.
  • Use tongs to remove the kielbasa and transfer the water to a large bowl for later.
  • Add half the butter to the pot and cook the onions and garlic. Then add remaining butter to cook the leeks.
  • As with any recipe, remember to season every layer. Be especially generous with the black pepper in this soup, as it highlights the kielbasa.
  • Put the potato scraps and trimmed sourdough into the pot and pour about 2/3 of the kielbasa broth over it.
  • When the kielbasa is cool enough to handle, slice it lengthwise and then into thin half-moon slices.
  • The sourdough chunks will become very bloated and soggy. Carefully scoop them out of the pot, along with about one cup of the cooking liquid. Let it cool a few minutes.
  • Potato cubes go into the pot to simmer until they are just tender.
  • I lost track of my simmer and needed to add broth, but just enough to cover the potato cubes. The potato scraps that went in first are already fork-tender and will continue to break down.
  • Use an immersion blender to puree the soppy sourdough. If you need to use a regular blender, wait until it cools for safety sake.
  • I was very surprised at how well this blended, and how creamy the mixture was when I finished. And those pumpkin seeds? Gone!
  • The sourdough puree goes back into the pot. Stir it gently so that you don’t turn the potato cubes to mush (lesson learned).
  • Add the kielbasa and simmer just long enough for everything to be heated through.
  • For sure, my soup simmered too long, and the starchy russets were overcooked. But this was still delicious! Make final salt and pepper adjustments.
  • Serve it up with more black pepper, a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkle of fresh dill leaves.
  • The whole bowlful tastes very creamy and hearty. Real comfort food here!
  1. Place the kielbasa chunks in a large soup pot and cover it with the filtered water. Add the bay leaves and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer for about 20 minutes.
  2. Prep the potatoes by cutting off the sides and ends, creating mostly flat sides on the potato. Keep the potato scraps in one pile and cube up the rest into a separate pile.
  3. After simmering, the kielbasa should be noticeably swollen, and small droplets of fat from the kielbasa will be swirled throughout the broth. Use tongs to transfer the kielbasa to a cutting board. Pour the broth into a large bowl or measuring pitcher.
  4. Into the same pot, melt two tablespoons of the butter and sauté the yellow onions and garlic with salt and pepper for about five minutes, until tender. Add the remaining butter and leeks to the pot and sauté two more minutes, until those are also tender.
  5. Add the scraps of potato and the large chunks of sourdough bread to the pot. Pour about 2/3 of the reserved broth into the pot and simmer until the bread looks completely bloated, about 10 minutes. Use a large, slotted spoon or tongs to pull out the sopping bread into the measuring pitcher with the remaining reserved broth. It’s OK if some of the leeks and onions tag along. Set the pitcher aside to cool for a few minutes.
  6. Add the potato cubes to the pot, along with enough broth or water to just cover them. Heat to a boil and then simmer for about 15 minutes until potatoes are slightly tender. While that simmers, use an immersion blender to puree the sopping sourdough with the liquid in the bowl or pitcher.
  7. Stir the puree mixture back into the pot, along with the kielbasa. Adjust salt and pepper to taste. Simmer just until heated through, as continued cooking will cause the potatoes to turn mushy.
  8. Serve the white borscht with a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkling of fresh dill.
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