A bowl of borscht

In my mind, there is no food more beautiful than a bowl of borscht.

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Nothing hits me so hard in the foodie feels as a warm cup of this magical beet soup. Ever since I was a little girl, every summer my mom and I (okay, she did most of it) would go to the farmer’s market to pick up the best beets, cabbage, dill, beans, and any vegetable that was fresh that week. My first year in university and my first year away from home, my mother made and jarred an enormous amount of borscht to take to Kelowna, BC for those harsh winter months (brr?). Now that I’m studying in Edmonton, AB, she still makes me a pot to take up every year. And every single time I warm up some borscht on the stove, I think fondly of her.

I am one of the lucky ones to have an amazing mother who is my best friend. She was there through all my anxiety attacks, piano exams, work troubles, dance recitals, auditions, tears caused by boys, friendships gained and lost. She taught me how to cook and we continue to teach each other new things every day. Even when we are in opposite ends of the world, we manage to find a way to talk and update each other on our lives almost every day. We send each other photos of our suppers we made and share new recipes. We share secrets, laugh, fight, and cry. Without her, I wouldn’t be the beautiful, confident woman I am today.

So when mom texted me this morning with the desire to start a food blog, I was in. Why not? Since we are always sharing recipes and ideas with each other, it only makes sense to share with family, friends, and anyone else who is interested. Besides, I think you can accomplish anything when you’ve got a bowl of hot borscht in front of you.

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