Skip to content
Recipes

All recipes

Vegetarian, or something you can't eat? Set your diet once and we'll hide recipes that don't fit.

Tvorozhnaya massa s izyumom (sweet tvorog cream with raisins)

All over Russia, tvorozhnaya massa is the smooth, sweet curd cheese of childhood breakfasts and afternoon teas, and at Easter it is the base of paskha. Fresh tvorog is pressed through a sieve and beaten with soft butter, sugar and vanilla until it is pale and fluffy, then raisins are stirred in. It is creamy and tangy, sweet but light, and high in protein. Spread it on bread, spread it on rye toast or eat it from a bowl with tea and berries. Nothing is cooked and no egg goes in: beating the butter into the sieved curd gives it a mousse-like body, and it firms up nicely in the fridge, so nothing is needed to bind or set it. Chef's tip: soften the butter fully and sieve the tvorog first; the common mistake is beating cold butter into grainy curd, which leaves hard flecks and a lumpy, heavy cream.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tvorog so smetanoy (farmer's cheese with sour cream)

Across Russia, a bowl of soft tvorog with a spoon of smetana and a little sugar or jam is the breakfast grandmothers swear by and the supper students live on. The fresh, slightly sour curd and the cool cream make something like a rustic cheesecake you eat with a spoon, high in protein and ready in five minutes; add berries in summer. Tvorog, like quark and cottage cheese, is set with culture rather than rennet, so it suits vegetarians. The mistake is buying the driest block and serving it as it is, which feels chalky; break it up and loosen it with the smetana first. Chef's tip: mash the tvorog with the sugar and let it stand two minutes so the sugar dissolves before you add the cream.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TopfengolatschenSweet quark puff pastry squares

A Topfengolatsche is what Viennese office workers grab from the bakery on the way in, and what grandparents order with a Melange in a coffee house on a Sunday afternoon. The corners of a puff pastry square are folded over a lemony, vanilla-scented filling of Topfen (Austrian quark) with plump raisins, and the top gets a thin white glaze. It is flaky, light and not too sweet. Raisins are sometimes soaked in rum; warm water or orange juice works just as well, and the recipe below is alcohol-free. Wet quark is the classic problem, because it turns the filling runny and it leaks out in the oven. Chef's tip: hang the quark in a sieve lined with a clean cloth for an hour, or squeeze it, until it is as thick as soft cream cheese.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Belgian frangipane tartlets

Look in the glass counter of a Flemish bakery and between the rice tarts and cream puffs sit rows of frangipanetaartjes: small shortcrust cases with a hidden layer of apricot jam, filled with almond frangipane and glazed with a thin, crackly white icing. Belgians pick them up on Saturday mornings or for a birthday at the office and eat them with coffee. They are buttery, nutty and moist, with a sharp fruity note from the jam. Too much jam is the mistake to watch: it bubbles up through the frangipane and glues the tartlets to the tin. Chef's tip: brush the warm tartlets with hot apricot jam first and let it set before the icing goes on; the jam seals the surface so the glaze stays white and shiny.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Salat iz ogurtsov i pomidorov (Russian cucumber and tomato salad)

From Moscow dachas to Siberian kitchens, this is the salad that sits on almost every summer table: cucumber, ripe tomato and onion chopped together with dill, dressed either with smetana for a creamy version or with unrefined sunflower oil, whose nutty taste is the flavour of the Russian countryside. It is eaten beside boiled potatoes, kasha or grilled food, and it is made minutes before the meal. The usual mistake is salting it early: the tomatoes and cucumbers release their juice and the salad turns into a watery soup. Chef's tip: if you can find it, use unrefined, cold-pressed sunflower oil; it tastes of toasted seeds and makes the plainest salad sing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CraquelinBrioche with sugar cube pockets

Sugar cubes, of all things, are the secret of the Belgian craquelin. Bakers in Ghent, Bruges and Brussels wrap broken cubes inside rich brioche, and as the loaf bakes they melt into little wells of syrup that set crunchy, while pearl sugar crackles on the crust (hence the name). It is a Sunday breakfast and weekend bakery loaf, sliced thick and eaten plain or with butter and a bowl of café au lait; Flemish bakers sometimes add orange zest. Leaving sugar pieces exposed on the outside, especially the base, is the usual pitfall: they caramelise, burn and glue the loaf to the tin. Chef's tip: chill the kneaded brioche for at least an hour before you fold in the sugar, so the butter firms and the dough is easy to wrap around the cubes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

RohlíkSalt and caraway breakfast roll

Ask a Czech or Slovak what they ate for breakfast as a child and the answer is usually a rohlík: a long, slim roll rolled up from a triangle of dough, sold for a few crowns at every bakery and supermarket from Prague to Bratislava. It has a thin, crisp golden crust scattered with coarse salt and caraway, and a soft, tight spiral inside. People eat it with butter and jam, with a spread such as egg or bean pomazánka, with a cup of white coffee, or simply dunked in a mug of cocoa. This version uses sunflower oil, so it is vegan. Rolling the triangles loosely is the usual mistake; the spiral opens in the oven and the roll splits. Chef's tip: stretch each triangle gently by its point as you roll it up, which keeps the coil tight and gives the long, even shape.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Borodinsky breadDark sourdough rye with coriander

Moscow's darkest everyday loaf is said to be named after the 1812 Battle of Borodino, though the recipe bakers follow today was fixed by the city's bread trust in 1933. Borodinsky (Бородинский хлеб) is a dense, moist sourdough rye, sweet-sour from molasses and red fermented rye malt, with whole coriander seeds crackling on the crust. Russians slice it thin for breakfast with butter and salted cucumbers, alongside borscht or herring for meat-eaters, or under a slice of cheese with strong tea. The method looks long, but most of it is the starter and the scald quietly working on their own. The usual mistake is cutting it on baking day: rye crumb needs a full day wrapped in a cloth to set, and a warm loaf is gummy right through. Chef's tip: red fermented rye malt gives the colour and the deep flavour; plain diastatic malt will not do the same job, so look for the reddish-brown 'fermented' kind in Eastern European shops.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Stolichny keksRaisin loaf cake

Stolichny keks, the 'capital city' cake, was made to a fixed state recipe in Soviet bakeries and sold in waxed paper in every Moscow grocery: a tall, buttery loaf with a cracked top, a fine yellow crumb and so many raisins that each slice is studded with them. People still bake it at home for New Year and for guests, and it keeps well for a week, wrapped, next to the teapot. Some cooks plump the raisins in brandy or cognac; this recipe soaks them in hot water and lemon juice instead, and a spoonful of brandy can go into the soak if you like. Under-creamed butter is the usual problem: the cake comes out heavy and greasy, so beat the butter and icing sugar until really pale. Chef's tip: dry the soaked raisins on a towel and roll them in flour; wet raisins all sink to the bottom.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kärntner ReindlingCinnamon raisin yeast cake

Carinthia's Easter loaf takes its name from the Reindl, the round, deep pan it is baked in, and in southern Austria no Easter basket goes to church without one. Inside the golden yeast crust is a spiral of butter, cinnamon sugar and plump raisins, so every slice shows a dark swirl. Locals eat it two ways: sweet with coffee on Easter morning, or alongside the savoury Easter platter with horseradish. Many bakers soak the raisins in rum overnight; warm water or tea works just as well and keeps it alcohol-free. A dry, crumbly Reindling usually means too much flour went in during kneading, so keep the dough soft and only lightly floured. Chef's tip: butter the pan well and dust it with sugar, which caramelises into a thin crunchy shell.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Glazirovanny syrok (chocolate-glazed curd bars)

Glazirovanny syrok, the chocolate-coated curd cheese bar, has been sold in Russian dairy aisles since Soviet times and is still what children across Russia, Ukraine and the Baltics grab after school. Made at home, it is a firm, creamy, gently sweet vanilla tvorog filling under a thin snap of dark chocolate, like a tiny cheesecake bar. This version uses less sugar than shop bars. It contains milk (and may contain soya in the chocolate). Chef's tip: press the tvorog through a sieve first; it is the only way to get the smooth, dense texture of a real syrok.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Buchtičky se šodó (tiny buns in vanilla custard)

Ask anyone who went to school in Czechia or Slovakia about the canteen, and buchtičky se šodó comes up with a smile: a bowl of tiny, soft, buttery yeast buns baked close together and pulled apart, sitting in warm vanilla custard. Families make it at home as a sweet main course or afternoon treat, especially in winter. The custard here is lightly sweetened. It contains gluten, milk and egg. Chef's tip: brush the buns with melted butter before they go into the tin, so they pull apart cleanly after baking.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Grechka s molokom (buckwheat with milk)

Grechka s molokom, buckwheat groats cooked soft and served in a bowl of warm milk with a little butter, is the breakfast or light supper that generations of Russian children have eaten at home and in nursery school. The groats are earthy and nutty and the milk makes them gentle and sweet-tasting, without any sugar. Buckwheat is naturally gluten free (despite its name); the dish contains milk and has no egg, nuts, soya, sesame or fish. Chef's tip: use toasted buckwheat (the brown kind sold for kasha), which has the rounder, nuttier flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KrendelSweet pretzel-shaped bread

Name days and birthdays in old Russia called for a krendel: one huge pretzel-shaped sweet loaf, carried to the table whole and torn apart over tea from the samovar. The shape is said to come from Baltic and German bakers in St Petersburg, but the bread itself is very Russian, a buttery yeast dough rolled around cinnamon sugar so the crumb streaks with spice. Serve it with tea, jam or honey and a bowl of sour cream. The pretzel is made from one long filled roll, slit open down its length so the layers show; forgetting to chill the filled roll before slitting is what makes the filling smear and the shape slump. Chef's tip: shape it straight on the lined tray rather than lifting it afterwards, as a filled rope this long tears easily.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KorzhikiShortbread rounds

Every Soviet schoolchild knew korzhiki, the plump scalloped biscuits sold at the canteen counter for a few kopecks with a glass of milk. Made with sour cream and a little honey, they are firm on the outside and soft and cakey inside, pale gold, with a fork-pricked top. Russians still bake them at home for after-school snacks. The common mistake is rolling the dough too thin, which makes hard biscuits instead of soft little cakes. Chef's tip: roll to a full 8 mm and pull them from the oven while the edges are still pale; they firm up as they cool.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ZefirApple marshmallow

Zefir sits in a paper box on almost every Russian tea table: pale, airy halves of apple marshmallow pressed together in pairs, softer and fruitier than any marshmallow. Factories in Moscow and Belyov made them famous, but home cooks pipe their own from baked Antonovka-style sour apples, sugar, egg white and agar. Agar keeps them vegetarian, unlike gelatine. The common mistake is undercooking the agar syrup; if it doesn't reach 110 °C, the zefir never sets and weeps. Chef's tip: bake the apples rather than boil them; the purée is thicker and the zefir far lighter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Fried courgette with garlic mayonnaise

When the dacha beds in the Moscow region overflow with courgettes in July, this is what appears on the veranda table: rounds of courgette dusted in flour, fried until golden, then stacked in a dish with garlicky mayonnaise, tomato slices and dill. It is served cool as a zakuska with bread or beside new potatoes, and it tastes even better after an hour in the fridge. The common mistake is cutting the slices too thin, so they fall apart and soak up oil. Chef's tip: salt the slices for ten minutes and pat them dry before flouring; they fry crisper and spit far less.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Crab stick salad

On 31 December, alongside Olivier and herring under a fur coat, almost every Russian table carries a bowl of crab stick salad. It arrived in the 1980s when cheap crab sticks reached Soviet shops, and it stayed: chopped surimi, hard-boiled egg, sweetcorn, cucumber and rice bound in mayonnaise, eaten through the New Year holidays. Crab sticks are made from white fish, so this salad is not vegetarian; check the label if you need it gluten free, as some brands add wheat starch. The common mistake is dressing it hours ahead, which makes the rice soggy and the cucumber watery. Chef's tip: mix everything except the mayonnaise in advance and stir that in just before the salad goes on the table.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PastilaBaked apple sheets

Long before chocolate reached Russia, the merchants of Kolomna near Moscow and Belyov in the Tula region were drying whipped apple into thin, cloud-soft sheets in their stove ovens and selling them in tins at winter fairs. Today pastila is again a souvenir and a tea-table treat: whipped baked-apple purée is spread thin, dried slowly until leathery yet tender, then stacked in layers and cut into bars. It is fat-free and naturally gluten-free. The common mistake is too hot an oven, which browns and cracks the sheets. Chef's tip: dry it with the oven door wedged open with a wooden spoon; it needs gentle warmth and escaping steam, not baking.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sweet sorrel pie

In late May and June, sorrel is the first thing to grow thick in dacha gardens around Moscow and Kaluga, and grandmothers turn the sour leaves into a sweet pie that tastes surprisingly like rhubarb. Shredded sorrel is tossed with sugar and a little starch and baked between two layers of soft sour-cream pastry, then eaten in thick slices with tea or cold milk. The common mistake is mixing the sugar into the sorrel too early, which draws out the juice and floods the pastry. Chef's tip: layer the dry leaves into the pie and sprinkle the sugar and starch over them right before you close the lid.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kartofelnaya zapekankaBaked mashed potato

Kindergarten kitchens across the USSR baked this in huge trays, and it is still the Wednesday supper many Russians remember: a layer of soft mashed potato, a layer of minced beef fried with onion, more mash on top, brushed with egg and sour cream so it browns in the oven. It is Russia's answer to cottage pie, eaten with pickled cucumbers or a beetroot salad. For a vegetarian version, swap the mince for 500 g chopped mushrooms fried until dry. The common mistake is a wet mince layer, which makes the potato slide off when you cut it. Chef's tip: let the bake rest for ten minutes after it leaves the oven; it slices into neat squares instead of collapsing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MannikSemolina cake

In thousands of Russian kitchens, mannik is the cake you make when the cupboard is nearly bare: semolina, kefir, sugar, a couple of eggs and almost no flour. The semolina swells overnight in the kefir, and the result is a plain, damp, slightly springy cake with a golden crust, sliced at the tea table from Smolensk to Vladivostok with a spoon of jam or sour cream. The common mistake is skipping the soak, which leaves the cake gritty with hard grains. Chef's tip: soak the semolina in the kefir for at least an hour, or overnight in the fridge, before adding the rest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MuraveynikAnthill cake

Muraveynik is the 'anthill' that Soviet home bakers built for birthdays when shop cakes were hard to come by: crisp shortbread is baked, broken into crumbs, bound with boiled condensed milk and butter, then heaped into a little mountain and sprinkled with poppy seeds for the ants. It needs no tin and no layering, sets in the fridge, and is still a favourite at children's parties from Moscow to Omsk. The common mistake is crumbling the biscuit too fine, which makes a dense block instead of a craggy, crunchy heap. Chef's tip: break the dough through the coarse holes of a mincer or grater before baking so the crumbs are uneven and crisp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Fried potatoes with mushrooms

Every late August, when families come back from the birch woods outside Moscow and Tver with baskets of boletes and chanterelles, the first supper at the dacha is a black iron pan of potatoes fried with those mushrooms. Through the Soviet years the same dish fed students in dormitories and night-shift workers in Ural towns, usually eaten straight from the pan with a jar of salted cucumbers and a spoon of sour cream. The potatoes should be crisp at the edges, the mushrooms browned and the onion sweet. Buy wild mushrooms from a reliable source only; cultivated chestnut mushrooms work very well. The common mistake is crowding the pan and stirring constantly, which steams the potatoes into mush. Chef's tip: fry the mushrooms first and set them aside, then fry the potatoes alone and only combine them at the end.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 423 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 18