Regal Borscht

I have at last joined FareShares, which is
going through a transitional phase, you might say. In order to
facilitate more relaxed and happy communications at its meetings on the
15th of each month, I suggested that we hold these meetings up the
street, at 184 Crampton Street, aka the Pullens Centre and serve food. Specifucally, borscht.


Bootiful borscht with perfect purple ladle

This, then, was the venue of Pullens Soup Kitchen, some seven years ago, a radical experiment in community cohesion that involved making soup in the centre every working day and giving it away at lunchtime, by donation. Some Pullens TAR committee members responded to this subversive initiative with a virulent hate campaign that eventually led to my illegal exclusion from their community association.

Back then, some seven years ago, Prince was in London, playing his legendary 21 nights at the O2. Tickets for those shows were notionally priced at a very reasonable £31.21 – ‘3121’ was the name of the album Prince was promoting and a copy of it, as I recall, came free with each ticket. However, all 21 nights sold out before I got my act together and so I was obliged to work the secondary market, via eBay, or go the traditional route, bunging a wad of cash to a tout outside the venue. Either way, it was loads of hassle and would’ve cost the best past of an ‘undred quid to go on my own to see the little man in a big arena and so, one way or another over three weeks of 02 nights, I passed up the opportunity to experience Prince in the living moment and, boy, do I regret it. It’s never the Prince shows one catches that are regrettable.

posh bowl by Daniel Reynolds, Reynoldsware

Back then, Borscht, as recoded on the blog became one of the emblematic soups that our fragile community kitchen did well. After they shut me out, Pullens TRA committee paid one of its members to rip out the old kitchen and bar counter, throwing away the old furniture. They sanitized the building, installing central heating and the ugliest laminate flooring known to man. It is really sad how they have ruined the character of a building that was originally & ingeniously converted for community use by ex-squatters. Still, life goes on and however soulless the remodelled Pullens Centre may be, with its frightful flooring, it remains a perfectly good venue for meetings and there is an oven & hob to reheat food.

In FareShares, I’ve joined a volunteer organisation that’s demoralised by a long-running battle between an increasingly isolated individual and the collective, which seems to be leading inexorably to that individual being excluded. With my own history of exclusion, I would hate to see that happen. We should all be able to get around a table and talk reasonably about our differences. I found through the Soup Kitchen that soup has highly conciliatory properties. Perhaps it has to do with water being such a resonant vehicle for intentionality, so that one can literally taste the love in food that is deliberately made as an act of devotion. I talk of borscht.

standing in your purple moccs

Borscht is Princely, souperficially (sic.) because it is purple. Deeply purple. I too am pretty purple, having recently scored a pair of purple suede moccasins – by Dunlop! – and a purple silicon ladle, from the kitchenshop on Walworth Road formerly known as Paul’s (which has actually improved since Paul retired). My old mate, Michael, RIP, he used to love that shop. He used to buy objects from there for their beauty that he would never actually use. But my Mick memorial purple silicon ladle is better than beautiful, it is a perfect tool to perform the jobs I bought it for: forcing puréed borscht through a sieve with the back of it; using its plasticity to scoop thickened soup from the corners of the borscht pot. Worth every penny of the six quid it cost me. My purple ladle is fit for purpose & does not disappoint.

What’s further enhanced the quality of my life over recent months is tapes of Prince’s gigs with his latest group, 3rdEyeGirl. It’s a female power trio, like a funky Band of Gypsys, with Prince wailing on guitar. If you are unaware of Prince’s status as a guitar slinger, watch this take over of a supergroup salute to George Harrison. Observe the expression on Dhani Harrison’s face at 4:46!


With 3rdEyeGirl, Prince has got his full range of Hendrix tricks & Santana licks out of the box and is playing crunchy, grungy ‘reloaded ‘versions of old hits from his purple pomp – Let’s Go Crazy, She’s Always In My Hair – plus his classic guitar solo tunes, such as Bambi and, obviously, Guitar, as well as new group songs with titles in BLOCKCAPSNOGAPS: FIXURLIFEUP & PRETZELBODYLOGIC.

Now Prince is in London, playing shows around town while I am making a fresh vat o’ borscht with Lincolnshire-grown beets, plus one Bramley apple per kilo to add a certain jaunty juiciness. Last Sunday, Prince played the Shepherds Bush Empire, but I did not stir my stumps. This Sunday, Prince played Koko in Mornington Crescent and I did make it up there, but baulked when I saw the length of the queue. Someone tweeted that four hours queuing + £70 cash on the door was generously repaid by a stunning, intimate three hour show, but I no longer have the stamina, sadly, to hack that. I have a gammy left foot that can’t take too much standing around, even for His Badness. So I may have to reconcile myself to missing his purple nourishment this time around, too.

The previous day I had concocted a hearty purple borscht for the sake of FareShares. The trick to emulating beefiness in a vegan borscht is to mince field mushrooms and sweat them in the base so that they disappear into the soup, leaving their boskiness behind. That and a dessert spoon of yeast extract per litre of bouillon. We shared it, along with other offerings that made up a really good meal, actually, before conducting our monthly FareShares business meeting.

We agreed that next month, March 15th, the evening shall be open to everyone. Past, present and future volunteers are welcome to share food with us. At the February meeting, we were only seven and the conundrum faced by FareShares cannot be resolved in a single sitting, but as Prince famously declared, “All seven and we’ll watch them fall. They stand in the way of love & we will smoke them all. With an intellect and a savoir-faire, no one in the whole universe will ever compare to the healing power of vegan borscht.”

Not being maudlin about it, but this picfure of my beetrooty left hand is poignant, since it was cut off on 13.04.11. Truly, you do not miss something till it’s gone. On the other hand (sic) there’s loads of borscht left & I froze some! Prince promises to stay in town for as long as people want to hear him play, so that’s not over yet, either. Maybe 3trdEyeGirl will pop up at the Pullens Centre next Friday night?

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