Borsh

Breakfast might be strong borsh soup, loaded with vegetables and beef; […] Along about noon-time, if he [the Russian private] is in camp, he trudges to the soup-kitchens, obtains there a bucket of borsh—a soup of boiled beef and vegetables and water.

And as for me, I went to a tavern and partook of borsh. You know what borsh is? […] To begin with, borsh is not a dish to be eaten in the presence of elegant persons. Just as it is best to eat ripe mangos while sitting in a bath, so it is best to consume borsh in a low tavern, where table manners are of no account, or, if that be impossible, in solitude. This will be readily understood when it is pointed out that in a bowl of borsh, a succulent and bright red soup, lie concealed (1) a thick slice of beef or mutton, (2) a quantity of shredded beetroot, (3) a substantial piece of ham, (4) one or two bay-leaves, (5) a couple of sausages; nor does this list embrace the names of all the substances included in a portion of borsh, […] After the delicious lassitude that compensates one for the energy required to eat a portion of borsh had somewhat abated, I went across the Pskova by a bridge laid on boats, […]

“I peel it [the beet] so it bleeds in the water. […] I keep the water and I chop the beets up in it and it makes fine borsh (soup),” insisted the Jewish woman.

[W]e had a true Russian dinner beginning with pickled cucumbers, caviare and vodka, continuing with red Borsh soup with cream, and an endless number of succeeding dishes.

“Railway Grade”, page 165: The white lull which comes with the first snows of real winter, and this reunion of husbands and wives and families, brought a holiday feeling to the villages of Thunder Hill. […] Borsh, soup, “with other vegetables in it besides potatoes.” “Nakedness”, page 212: [T]he regal party sat down to eat a fine meal of borsh, pancakes with cream, melted butter, honey, and tea with lemon and sugar. “Royal Commission”, page 261: [A] fine vegetarian meal was served on a sparkling white tablecloth. Borsh soup, perashki, and watermelons grown almost from the very ground where the table and benches stood. “Revelations: to 1940”, page 426: BORSH SOUP, THE STEAM BATH, and pickled cucumbers now remained the only three things with which the Dukhobors were in unanimous accord. […] Pacifism in its negative form of antipathy toward soldiering, war and the killing of human beings, was almost as general among them as was their partiality for borsh, dills and Ruski banya.

The steaming hot ‘borsh’ soup would be ready, poured out into soup bowls, and there was enough time to order a second course and to eat it in the twenty-five minutes or so that the train remained in the station. […] Food was plentiful and the big station restaurant still served steaming platefuls of the famous Russian ‘borsh’ (cabbage soup with tomatoes and other vegetables) as it always had.