Kvass

No more kvetching, I just did it.

Now that I have made use of the final few rags of the wedding muslin to make labneh to make the whey to make the kvass, I have finally made the kvass. I am a kvasnik*. It could not be more simple. Or simpler. That’s a lie right there, it could have been simpler by leaving out the whey which is the original way (hey) I was shown. But the labneh idea seduced me and I am so glad it did because it is a glorious silky, sensual and delicious thing.

I used very little of the whey to make it in the end, 125ml to be precise (what should I do with the rest?). The fermenting pink stuff seems to be pretty happy. It has produced the ‘kham yeast’ (“harmless white scum”) on the top which I have removed and replaced with a rather badly placed piece of grease proof paper, as suggested in the recipe. I don’t think it will help the way I’ve done it. I did taste a bit but only from the top so it was bit watery and didn’t really taste of much. I put the mix in a jar that is too big for the amount I have made, so there is a much bigger gap at the top than was recommended. I don’t know what this means for the resulting drink, only time will tell, then I will.

The history of kvass seems to go back millennia, as far even as ancient Egypt. More recently it was the national drink of Russia and Ukraine, drunk by everyone from serfs to tsars, everyone knowing anecdotally of its health giving benefits, even using it in hospitals as a standard health drink for all patients. As with so many sensible things it was phased out in favour of something of less so, in this instance tea and no doubt wine for the tsars. It is interesting is that it used to be and perhaps still is, made with bread, particularly rye, to aid the fermentation. None of the modern recipes I have come across (admittedly no huge amount of research has gone into this) have any bread or flour in them. Perhaps I shall explore that idea later.

It is not an alcoholic drink, but can be made to be so by some trickery or other and those who do it are known as *kvasniks, which is a thing I would like to be known as but don’t have the qualification for really as mine won’t be alcoholic.

So there you have it, almost anyway. Full of gut healthy probiotics, I give you kvass. Such a great word, that immediately opens the door to all things cod yiddish. I can claim Jewish heritage so I feel entitled to use words like kvetch (grumble), schmaltz (rendered chicken fat), kvass (see above), oi vey (ffs) etc.

Here’s how (abbreviated from Naomi Devlin’s recipe):

• 4-5 small beets, scrubbed but not peeled, trimmed and diced roughly into 1cm cubes.

• 1 tsp sea salt

• 125ml live natural yoghurt whey or water kefir (either are optional) but I used the whey as you no doubt realise by now

• approx 1 litre of filtered or mineral water (again I deviated because I forgot to buy mineral water so this may affect end result)

• 2 litre preserving jar (mine is bigger - not sure if that’s a good or bad thing)

• stoppered or screw top glass bottles for storage

1. Wash and rinse the jar well. place all the beet in the jar, add the salt and the whey and enough water to leave a 2.5 cm gap at the top for expansion. Take the rubber seal out if it has one.

2. Close the jar and leave to ferment in a cool room (18-20oC) for 7 to 10 days.

3. It should taste strongly of beetroot, be deep purple and be more salty and sour than earthy and sweet. If it develops the white scum (harmless) just scoop it off and cover with grease proof paper.

4. When it’s ready and tastes as you like it strain the liquid into clean bottles, leaving a little space at the top. Once strained you can leave the liquid in the bottles for a further 3-10 days to get more sour and a little fizzy - remembering to burp the bottles every now and then so they don’t explode because no one would believe you hadn’t committed murder once that stuff is all over the walls.

5. Once it tastes as you like put it in the fridge which will slow any further fermentation. It will keep for 3-4 weeks. Drink neat or with fizzy water.

Since mine isn’t ready I can’t comment on the taste but I will do so further down the line. I am hoping for an earthy, salty, punch in the guts elixir of youth.

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Tomorrow I am heading north east to Yorkshire, god’s own country. I am visiting my old ladies.

Last June my Mum visited us for a couple of weeks. It was the first time ages she was without her beloved partner Nancy who had to return to the US for three weeks. It was a joy nonetheless to spend such precious time with my mum, with hawthorn blossom and sunshine everywhere adding to the magic. We were looking forward to repeating some of the same joys (hawthorn berries and rain this time) with both of them this coming weekend. But old age and the stuff it brings has scuppered that holiday so I am reversing it and going there. Last time I was I was in Yorkshire I was returning Mum to a house that hadn’t been occupied for over 3 weeks by any living creature except a bag of potatoes she had left at the bottom of the veg rack and possibly some mice. I brought them (the potatoes, not the mice) back to Wales with me and planted them. Tomorrow I will go armed with hommity pies made from those potatoes’ offspring, my stout shoes and hope in my heart.

About an eighth of the harvest to come…

Please buy Naomi’s book - your stomach will thank you.