"I'm going to make some beet kvass this week," I told Hannah while we unloaded her dishwasher on Tuesday.
She gave a little shiver of delight. "Oooh," she said, "that sounds great!" And then we both laughed, because the stuff doesn't exactly taste wonderful... but... "It's so funny, it's like your body just wants it --- I want some right now!" And it's true; when I got the idea to make some beet kvass this week, a little click of epicurean desire went off inside me, just like the one that goes off every morning when I wake up and smell the fresh coffee.
Beet kvass is the only weird, metaphorically crunchy, organic-foodie nutritional tonic I have ever fallen for. I make iron tonic and red raspberry leaf during pregnancy, but I don't crave it. I'll drink a carrot-celery juice or a cup of nettle tea because I like the taste. Beet kvass I don't like, but I do crave. It's one of the Weston A. Price people's recipes and the only tabletop fermentation of theirs I've ever gotten to work properly (sometime I'll tell you about the ginger carrots about which I ended up consulting an epidemiologist...). I tasted kvass for the first time when Melissa made some for some reason. Whenever I get in the mind to make some, I make about three two-quart batches in a row, which take me maybe four months to get through, and then I suddenly don't want any more and the last quart sits in my fridge forever before I get around to throwing it out.
OK, so the point of this story is really to report on a Milopropism. I had made some beet kvass -- it's not ready yet -- it's sitting on the counter -- yes, of course I'll do the recipe in a minute. Our family had all sat down to a dinner of sausage and peppers and onions and Brussels sprouts and (heh, you see how crunchy I am) Tater Tots. We'd been eating for a few minutes when Milo piped up, "And I want some beet kvass." (He pronounces it "beekaboss.")
"You can't have any. It won't be ready till Friday night."
A few minutes later. "Mom? Can I have some beet kvass?"
"No, hon, I know it looks yummy and pink, but it's not ready yet."
Mark said, "Milo, you won't like the taste of it anyway."
"Oh," he said, sounding very disappointed, and went back to eating Tater Tots.
But a few minutes later he leapt up, ran around the table, and wailed, "But why can't I have some beet kvass? It's right there on the table!" And he pointed to the crispy-on-the-edges, juicy-in-the-middle sausage in the pan.
"The kielbasa," said Mark.
Milo laughed and cried and turned a little red at the same time, poor thing. "Of course you can have some kielbasa!" I exclaimed and gave him a big helping as he shuffled sheepishly back to his plate. At times like this it's so hard not to laugh at your child. I remember being laughed at at that age and it didn't feel good. I hope I can always enjoy him openly but without making him feel like I'm ridiculing him. Sweet little tender guy, thinking we were telling him that he couldn't have any sausage, and that he probably wouldn't like it anyway, while we filled our plates right in front of him.
Here's how I make beet kvass. I forget why it's supposed to be good for you.
Peel and chop into half-inch chunks 2 large or 3 medium red beets. Place in the bottom of a two-quart glass container. Add 1/4 cup of whey (I get mine by draining plain yogurt overnight in a sieve over a bowl at room temperature) and 1 tablespoon sea salt. Fill container with water, leaving a bit of air space, cover tightly, and shake well. Loosen the cap or lid slightly, or cover with loose plastic wrap, and let rest at room temperature 2 to 3 days -- in the winter, when my house is at a cool 68 degrees, it always takes 3 days, but if yours is a few days longer it may be done in two days.
If you've never had it before, it's hard to explain how to know when it's done. It is supposed to taste pleasantly sour (the whey is an inoculant; it is supposed to be fermenting there on your counter) and noticeably beety, and just a tiny bit "sparkling". It's OK if a scum appears on the top, just skim it off. When I've got it I drink a 4-ounce glass, two or three times a day. It's OK to consume the beets. Supposedly you can make another batch by adding water and salt when the liquid gets down to the level of the beets, but I never think the second fermentation is as good and I usually just make a fresh batch.
Here, I went to the trouble of linking to the WAP article about kvass. I've had the bread kind too; T. O. M. (the other Mark) brought some home from the Russian grocery store and we all had some. It reminded me of root beer.
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