Yagidnyi Kysil (ягідний кисіль, berry kysil)

The first thing berry kysil does is stain the light. Blackcurrants make it almost ink-purple, sour cherries pull it toward ruby, raspberries leave little seeds at the bottom like evidence, and when the potato starch catches, the whole pot goes glossy enough to show you your spoon. It is not quite a drink and not quite pudding. That is the pleasure of it.

At a Ukrainian table, kysil is what appears when money is tight, children are hungry, and there are berries in the freezer from a better month. In August we'd make it from whatever the garden gives too loudly; in January we tip in frozen cherries and blackcurrants and call that tradition, because it is. Aunt Nadia once wrote: pour it warm over the first clean snow and it sets before the children stop laughing, which tells you two things, how fast potato starch works, and how bored winter children become.

The only bit that won't forgive carelessness is the starch. Mix it with cold water, pour it in a thin stream, and stop when the cloudy liquid turns glassy and coats the spoon, because hard boiling breaks the body you just built. Everything else forgives you: the berry mix, the sugar, whether you strain it smooth or leave it with fruit. Make the big pot. Someone will want it warm now and cold tomorrow.