Once the borscht was finished off, I made up a batch of my potato-leek soup. My version of this simple classic has been changing over the years, moving away from traditional definition so far as to be renamed: Allium Stew.

6 large leeks
2 large white onions
2 heads garlic
4 Yukon Gold potatos
1/2 pound butter
2 quarts chicken stock
salt, white pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg

Trim Leeks rather deeply; remove rootlets and most all the green portion, leaving 3″-4″ of white leek intact. Peel off the outer layer. Th goal here is to avoid any tough leaves, and preserve a pale/mild colour.
Slice trimmed leeks lengthwise, then finely slice crossways. Collect cut leeks into a large bowl brimming with cold water, agitate well, then allow to soak; this is to get any sand in the leeks to settle out.
Trim, peel, and small-dice the onions. Peel and small-dice the potatoes. Trim and peel all the garlic cloves.
Melt the butter in a large pot, and hold over medium-low heat. Run all the garlic through a press into the butter, followed by the onions. Double-check the leeks for sand, then shake off the excess water and add them to the pot. Add a pinch of salt. Cover and sweat the alliums until they reduce in apparent volume by about a third.
Now season with another pinch of salt, a few grinds of white pepper, a bare shake each of cinnamon and nutmeg.
Mix up well, raise heat a little to get the butter bubbling, then add the stock. Let the stock come up to temp a bit, then in with the taters. Add a quart or more of water as you go from here.
Barely simmer until potatoes are just getting fork-soft, then off the heat and run the whole works through a food processor and/or work it over with a stick-blender. Back onto medium heat and stir away any mealiness. Hey, maybe there’s a better cooking schedule here, but this is just how I’ve been doing it… Suggestions welcome.
My favourite part of this is that there’s no cream/milk, and I don’t think it needs it. Enjoy!

Every eastern European cultural group has their own way of making this soup. Even within the Doukhobor half of my family, there’s a few different versions. My Baba’s borscht, for instance, is lighter on beets, heavier on cabbage, and somewhat lighter overall. My father’s borscht has usually been darker and heavier on the greens, making use of whatever leaves are at hand. Ideally, borscht is a simple simple soup, relying on just a few good ingredients and minimal seasonings; not unlike a great potato-leek soup in this respect. This is my version:

1 pound butter
6-8 lg beets, with greens
2 bunches Swiss chard
1 small head white cabbage
2 quarts veggie or chicken stock
2 quarts water
1 lg bunch fresh dill

Trim, peel, and medium dice the beets. Wash and cut the beet stems into a similar size. Wash and thinly slice the beet greens. Ditto for the chard. Core and thinly slice the cabbage. Finely chop the dill, stems and all, removing any woody bits.
Melt the whole block of butter in a large pot. Add beets and dill with a pinch of salt. Once they get going over medium heat, add the cabbage. Get things bubbling again, then in with the beet and chard stems. Once everything is wonderful and red, add the stock. Return to temperature, the in with the beet and chard greens. Add water to cover all the solids with a couple inches of liquid. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer without boiling for at least an hour.
I cook it until the beets themselves begin to lose colour, but are still firm.
Like most soups, this almost always seems best the next day, but eat it up straight away if need be; shallow bowl, dollop of sour cream, and a healthy chunk of crusty rye. Yum!
This soup is very leafy and stewy… for fun, take the next day’s refrigerated leftovers and have at ’em with a food processor or sturdy hand blender; the resulting creamed soup is almost a whole different recipe.
Yes, yes, the butter at the top of the bowl in the fridge the next morning is a little scary, but forget the diet and play the hardy peasant for a day; you won’t regret it.