
Chef Lesia
Bessarabskyi Borshch (бессарабський борщ, fish borshch)
The catch goes into the pan before it ever meets the pot, so Danube fish stays whole in a tomato-red broth sour enough to wake the table.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
Goose fat beads gold on a beet-crimson surface, and soft halushky swell in the pot like little promises. This is Poltava's borshch, rich, sour, and built for a full table.
The first thing you notice is the fat. Not heavy, not greasy, but bright gold beads trembling on the beet-red surface, the kind of richness only goose gives when it has been simmered gently and left to speak in its own voice. Then come the halushky, soft flour dumplings dropped straight into the pot, swelling in the crimson broth until the borshch looks less like soup and more like a family argument everyone is enjoying.
Poltava cooks know what they are doing. Goose broth gives depth, fermented tomato mors or beet zakwas gives sourness without the flat sting of vinegar, and the zasmazhka, the slow-sweated onion and carrot, goes in near the end so its sweetness sits brightly on the broth instead of disappearing into the stock. That is the one why that decides the dish.
My Aunt Nadia wrote about dumplings in soup with the usual cruelty of love: "make them until they feel right." Of course. The dough should be soft enough to drop from a spoon, firm enough not to dissolve, and forgiving enough that your first batch still feeds people. Cook the pot until the smell changes, until the beets turn round and earthy-sweet, until the spoon must stand up straight.
Make enough for eight guests or one hungry Ukrainian. This borshch is better tomorrow, when the goose fat has settled, the souring has deepened, and the halushky have learned the broth by heart.
Poltavskyi borshch belongs to central Ukraine's Poltava region, where poultry broths and halushky, soft dumplings, mark the local table as clearly as smoked pears mark some old western pots. Poltava is so identified with halushky that the city raised a monument to them in 2006, a small public joke with a serious truth inside: regional Ukrainian food has always been more precise than the flat Soviet canteen version allowed. Ukrainian borshch culture was listed by UNESCO as endangered cultural heritage in 2022, and regional pots like this one are the evidence.
Quantity
1.8 kg
with some meat attached
Quantity
3.5 litres
Quantity
1 large
halved, for the broth
Quantity
1
halved, for the broth
Quantity
1
Quantity
8
Quantity
3 medium
scrubbed, tails left on
Quantity
3 medium
peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces
Quantity
1/2 small
finely shredded
Quantity
250 ml
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 large
finely diced, for the zasmazhka
Quantity
2
coarsely grated, for the zasmazhka
Quantity
1 small
finely grated
Quantity
3 cloves
smashed with salt
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
1 large bunch
chopped, plus more to serve
Quantity
to serve
Quantity
250 g
for the halushky
Quantity
1
for the halushky
Quantity
120 ml
for the halushky
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
for the halushky
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| goose legs, wings, neck, or mixed goose carcasswith some meat attached | 1.8 kg |
| cold water | 3.5 litres |
| onionhalved, for the broth | 1 large |
| carrothalved, for the broth | 1 |
| bay leaf | 1 |
| black peppercorns | 8 |
| beetsscrubbed, tails left on | 3 medium |
| potatoespeeled and cut into bite-sized pieces | 3 medium |
| white cabbagefinely shredded | 1/2 small |
| fermented tomato mors, beet zakwas, or fermented tomato brine | 250 ml |
| tomato paste | 2 tablespoons |
| unrefined sunflower oil (optional) | 2 tablespoons |
| onionfinely diced, for the zasmazhka | 1 large |
| carrotscoarsely grated, for the zasmazhka | 2 |
| parsnip or parsley root (optional)finely grated | 1 small |
| garlicsmashed with salt | 3 cloves |
| sugar (optional) | 1 tablespoon |
| sea salt and black pepper | to taste |
| dillchopped, plus more to serve | 1 large bunch |
| smetana (optional) | to serve |
| plain flourfor the halushky | 250 g |
| eggfor the halushky | 1 |
| water or cooled brothfor the halushky | 120 ml |
| fine sea saltfor the halushky | 1/2 teaspoon |
Put the goose pieces in a big stockpot with the cold water, halved onion, carrot, bay leaf, and peppercorns. Bring it up slowly, then keep it at the gentlest murmur, the sound my grandmother called spirit, skimming the grey foam as it gathers. A hard boil makes the broth cloudy and pushy; a quiet simmer gives you clean richness and that gold fat you want later.
While the broth works, simmer the whole beets in a separate pot until a knife slips through without a fight. Leave the tails on so the color stays inside them. Slip off the skins, grate the beets coarsely, and keep them with any ruby juices that collect on the board.
Lift the goose pieces from the broth when the meat pulls easily from the bone and the broth tastes rounded. Strain the liquid, discard the spent onion and carrot, and pull the goose meat into generous pieces. Skim off some fat if the surface looks too thick, but keep a few spoonfuls for the zasmazhka. That fat is not waste. It is the beginning of flavor.
Set a wide pan over low heat with a few spoonfuls of goose fat, adding sunflower oil only if the broth is lean. Add the diced onion and let it soften until translucent, then stir in the grated carrot and parsnip or parsley root if using. Cook slowly until the carrot has relaxed, the fat has turned orange, and the smell changes from raw roots to sweetness. Stir in the tomato paste and let it darken one shade.
Return the strained broth and picked goose meat to the pot. Add the potatoes first and let them cook until their edges just begin to soften, then add the cabbage. Stir in the grated beets with their juices. The pot should turn dark ruby, not pink, and the surface should carry little gold beads of goose fat.
Add the fermented tomato mors, beet zakwas, or fermented tomato brine a little at a time, tasting as you go. You want sweet beet, rich goose, and a clean sour lift, not a sour slap. If the beets are flat, add the sugar, but only after you taste. The ferment is doing the important work here, deeper and kinder than vinegar.
For the halushky, beat the egg with the water or cooled broth and salt, then stir in the flour until you have a soft, sticky dough that drops heavily from a spoon. Dip two teaspoons into the hot broth, scoop small pieces of dough, and slide them into the simmering borshch. They will puff and float when ready, tender at the center and stained lightly red at the edges.
Stir in the zasmazhka, smashed garlic, black pepper, and most of the dill. Taste again: salt, sour, sweetness, fat. The spoon must stand up straight, not because the soup is stiff, but because the pot is full of cabbage, potato, goose, beet, and dumplings. Turn off the heat and let it sit before serving so the halushky drink in the broth.
Ladle into deep bowls, making sure every person gets goose, beets, cabbage, and halushky. Add a spoon of smetana and a scatter of dill at the table. Tomorrow it will taste deeper, so do not apologize for the size of the pot.
1 serving (about 750g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Lesia
The catch goes into the pan before it ever meets the pot, so Danube fish stays whole in a tomato-red broth sour enough to wake the table.

Chef Lesia
Beets hit slow-sweated zasmazhka and the broth goes dark ruby, sour from beet zakwas, sweet from bone and garden, thick enough for the spoon to stand up straight.

Chef Lesia
A northern summer borshch should taste like the garden leaned over the pot: beet-crimson, bean-thick, sharpened by tart apple, with courgette softening into the broth.

Chef Lesia
This western borshch is not thick. It is ruby-clear, sour from beet kvass, sweet from slow roots, and clean enough that people in Halychyna drink it as much as eat it.