Hrechka z Tsybuleyu (гречка з цибулею, onion buckwheat)

Buckwheat tells on you by smell. Raw, it sits there dusty and shy; toasted, it wakes up all nutty and brown, with a dry little clicking sound in the pan that lets you know it has stopped being grain and started being supper.

This is the plate that saves a weeknight. Hrechka, buckwheat groats, cooks quickly, feeds many, and takes to onion like it was waiting for it all along. The onion is not a garnish here. It is the zasmazhka's poor cousin, slow-sweated until sweet and amber at the edges, then folded in at the end so the oil shines around each groat instead of disappearing into the pot.

My Aunt Nadia once wrote only, "fry the onion until it sounds right," which is both maddening and correct. Listen for the wet hiss to soften into a quiet sizzle, then smell for sweetness. That's your measurement.

Serve it beside mushrooms, cutlets, fermented tomatoes, or a spoon of smetana if the day has been mean. Make enough for eight guests or one hungry Ukrainian.