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Taking a Bite Out of McPherson County

McPherson County may be the tastiest county I’ve visited in my time at South Dakota Magazine.

The editor sent me there several years ago to write a story about the region’s German heritage and culinary traditions. Not realizing my fondness for German food and my stomach capacity, he probably had second thoughts upon seeing the reimbursement receipts. Nevertheless, it was a fascinating couple of days learning about how these South Dakotans have preserved their culture through food.

Several Civil War veterans initially settled the county, which seems fitting for a place named after Civil War general James McPherson, who was killed in 1864 at the Battle of Atlanta. Captain Samuel Prescott Howell was among the first, coming in the fall of 1882 and later becoming a county commissioner. Veteran Bela Dexter staked a claim near the North Dakota border. Captain E.D. Haynes was among the founders of Leola, named for his daughter.

Lake Eureka is a peaceful summertime recreation spot.

Another early homesteader was literary great Hamlin Garland. A monument to Garland stands near his later home in rural Brown County, but the writer claimed a spot about 9 miles south of Leola in 1885. It is said that he scribbled notes about his homesteading experience all over the interior walls of his shack.

Although immigrants from several countries in Northern Europe settled McPherson County after its creation, the vast majority were Germans from Russia. In 2000 (the last year the federal government asked about ethnic heritage), more than 80 percent of people in Eureka claimed a German background.

Many of the Germans who came to Dakota Territory had spent decades in Ukraine, living under favorable condition offered by Catherine the Great, who wanted to turn the region into Europe’s breadbasket. When Czar Alexander II came to power in 1871, Germans began to leave.

It’s no wonder, then, that the predominantly German town of Eureka became the greatest primary wheat market in the world. By 1897, two-thirds of the world’s wheat crop was shipped from Eureka, a rail point that served farms within a 75 mile radius. On some days, as much as 30,000 bushels left town by rail. But the heady times were gone nearly as quickly as they had arrived. Advancing railroads meant farmers could ship from points closer to their homes, and the Eureka wheat boom slowly abated.

Rhubarb, native to the Volga River area of Russia, does well in Leola, the world’s Rhubarb Capital.

Nevertheless, the town of Eureka grew into McPherson County’s largest city, boasting about 850 people today. In a twist common in many developing counties, the smaller city of Leola (pop. 457) became the county seat. Much of the credit for that is given to Charles Herreid, another early homesteader who became McPherson County’s first clerk, register of deeds and later governor from 1901 to 1903.

Leola has also proudly proclaimed itself the Rhubarb Capital of the World. The town’s rhubarb celebration began in 1971 as a simple baking contest, but grew to include parades, contests, music, rhubarb royalty and, of course, as many rhubarb concoctions as you can imagine. The next Rhubarb Festival is set for June 2017.

Food is important to the people of McPherson County, especially the ethnic German staples they ate while growing up. I visited Kauk’s Meat Market in Eureka, where Larry Kauk prepares German fry sausage that he sells in markets around eastern South Dakota and ships to McPherson County natives from coast to coast.”I’m sorry if you’re here looking for some big secret,” I remember him saying.”Because there isn’t one.”

Vicki Lapka is known for her strudels, served with sausage and carrots on German meal day at the Lyric Lanes in Eureka.

The key is sticking to tradition, and preparing sausage the way his family did near the town of Artas. People from California to New York know you can’t find it in a package labeled Oscar Meyer, which is why they turn to the hometown butcher.

Unfortunately, some of that tradition is in danger of being lost. I stopped at the Lyric Lanes, which serves a weekly traditional German meal thanks to Vicki Lapka. She is known around the region for strudels.

Lapka, a fifth-generation descendant of Germans from Russia, learned strudels and other German delicacies from her grandmother while growing up around Mound City. But after high school she and her husband moved to the Twin Cities, and those German recipes lay dormant for 15 years. In January 1992 they moved back to Eureka, bought the Lyric, and inherited its Saturday night German buffet. Lapka’s mother helped her relearn German cooking, and the weekly German meal (moved to Tuesday afternoons) remained a tradition.

Three electric skillets sat atop her counter when I arrived. She added water, lard, onions and potatoes, then set strudels on top and closed the lid.”If you open them while they’re cooking they just drop,” Lapka explained.”You’ll have flat dumplings and flat strudels. My kids learned the hard way. If I was making dumplings or strudels, they stayed out of the kitchen.”

Strudels are temperamental. If the water is just a few degrees too cool or too hot, the yeast won’t react correctly. And they must remain covered. Since Lapka can’t see them cook, she tips the pan after 30 minutes of cooking and listens to see if they are frying inside. If there’s no sizzle, she knows they need more time. Before I left, Lapka showed me freezers packed with 150 pounds of strudels to fill orders from townspeople.

Kuchen, a fruit-filled pastry, is a traditional German sweet and South Dakota’s official state dessert.

But she worries that traditional recipes will be lost if younger chefs don’t take time to learn.”They’ll come in and ask for a pan full of strudels. They could make them, but they don’t know how. It’s so easy to just come buy the strudels, go home and cook them, but they don’t want to do that. If we don’t keep this going, we’re going to lose it all.”

One German food that may stand the test of time is kuchen, South Dakota’s official state dessert thanks to the efforts of several McPherson County bakers who lobbied the legislature in 1999. They traveled to Pierre during session and presented a skit that conveyed the importance of kuchen in the lives of early pioneers. They dressed in period costumes and even brought samples. The governor said he’d sign the bill, but it was defeated in the House.

The bill was reintroduced in 2000. This time, Eurekans sent letters to towns around the state seeking support for kuchen’s candidacy. Seventeen cities replied, and the letters were brought to Pierre as evidence that kuchen enjoyed statewide support. This time, the legislature agreed.

Travelers can find kuchen in supermarkets throughout north central South Dakota, and the Eureka Kuchen Factory specializes in a variety of flavors. If I ever head north again, I’m bringing a cooler. Just don’t tell the editors.

Editor’s Note: This is the 27th installment in an ongoing series featuring South Dakota’s 66 counties. Click here for previous articles.

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Noodles & Strudels for the Soul

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the November/December 2012 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

A man sporting a thick salt and pepper beard eyed me suspiciously from his slowly passing pickup as I approached the back door of the Dakota Cafe. It was shortly after 10 a.m. on a Monday morning, and we both knew the cafe hadn’t yet opened, but owner Cris Mayer had assured me I would find the key in the door.

The Dakota Cafe in Hosmer was my first stop on a journey exploring South Dakota’s rich heritage of German cuisine. In two days of eating my way through McPherson and Edmunds counties — two of the most German-rich counties in South Dakota — I’d consumed German noodles, cheese buttons, strudels, dumplings, kuchen and sausage that is fried in kitchens from coast to coast. Had my trip simply been about discovering delicious ethnic food, it was a resounding success. But it also became a fascinating journey through hundreds of years of American and European history, tracing how Germans from Russia were forced to cut ties with their homeland twice, and how the food served in several South Dakota restaurants helps descendants retain their cultural identity.

Miranda Brower (left) and Sarah Aman prepare German noodles at the Dakota Cafe in Hosmer.

Hosmer and Eureka are decidedly German communities in a predominantly German state. The federal government stopped asking census respondents about their ethnic heritage in 2010, but in 2000 over 40 percent of South Dakotans claimed a German background, the largest ethnicity reported. Out of 208 people surveyed in Hosmer, 141 (78.8 percent) indicated German heritage and 51 (28.5 percent) marked Russian. In Eureka, 706 of its 868 residents claimed German lineage and 207 said Russian. Listen closely and you’ll still hear a slight German brogue among locals.

So it might have been easy for Dan and Cris Mayer to feel out of place when they moved to Hosmer in 2000. The Mayers had earned a living revamping restaurants in Scandinavian-rich Minnesota and sought a change of scenery. They attended an auction in North Dakota and learned the following day that their $1,000 bid had purchased a house in Hosmer.”We didn’t know what we bid on,” Cris Mayer says.”It was a huge leap of faith.”

A higher power may indeed have been involved. The city of Hosmer had built a restaurant in 1994, but it lacked consistent ownership. The Mayers, with their extensive restaurant background, bought the business and have been making meals ever since.

The Mayers are admittedly comfortable cooking standard restaurant fare, but the town’s German citizenry had grown accustomed to eating a traditional ethnic meal once a week. German cooking was a foreign concept, so they turned to Ruth Schumacher, a Hosmer native who grew up on a farm learning recipes for strudels, dumplings, cheese buttons and hot potato salad from her mother.

“I enjoyed helping my mother any chance I could,” Schumacher says. She discovered as a child how seriously her mother treated cooking.

“My mother was very particular about when her bread rose, and when it was time to go into the oven,” she recalls.”My brother was mischievous anyway. The bread was ready to put in oven and he pinched it and it flopped down. Mother happened to come in the kitchen. My brother was fast, but mother caught me and I got a spanking. I always said it wasn’t my fault, and I blamed my brother until his dying day.”

Schumacher taught at a rural school and in Hosmer for 43 years, all while retaining the German recipes she had learned. When her granddaughter began waitressing for the Mayers, she bragged about the German food Schumacher made. The cafe owners invited her to help on Tuesdays. Now she helps plan the weekly meal and keeps track of what is served.

Ruth Schumacher (left) and Cris Mayer prepare a traditional German meal weekly at the Dakota Cafe.

Schumacher was busily preparing batches of cheese buttons on the day I visited.”You can boil them or you can fry them, just a couple of minutes,” she says, carefully placing a spoonful of dry cottage cheese mixture onto the dough, and folding it into a tiny pocket.

On the east side of the restaurant, box fans on full blast were busily drying piles of German noodles produced by M.A.’s Noodla, Hosmer’s noodle company. Long, flat pieces of dough are run through a machine that produces strings of noodles that can be cooked in soups and dozens of other German dishes. M.A.’s makes 19 varieties that are sold in nearly 30 grocery stores.

Hosmer’s Noodle Company had been in business since 1987 when the Mayers and Hosmer resident Sarah Aman bought it in July and moved its operations to the cafe. A portion of the restaurant is blocked off once a week so the noodlers can work.”Noodling was big for the Germans of this area,” Mayer says.”They noodled when they first arrived here as pioneers. They’d cut them out and lay them over their cupboards to dry.”

Dough foods like noodles, strudels and dumplings are staples of the German diet. They require years to perfect, as I discovered when I met the strudel queen of McPherson County. Vicki Lapka makes a variety of German foods, but she’s the person everyone in Eureka seeks when looking for strudels. We visited her restaurant, the Lyric Lanes, on a Tuesday morning as she prepared her weekly German meal.

Lapka, a fifth-generation descendant of Germans from Russia, learned strudels and other German delicacies from her grandmother while growing up around Mound City. But after high school she and her husband moved to the Twin Cities, and those German recipes lay dormant for 15 years. In January 1992 they moved back to Eureka, bought the Lyric, and inherited its Saturday night German buffet. Lapka’s mother helped her relearn German cooking, and the weekly German meal, now on Tuesday afternoons, has remained a tradition.

Meals include sausage, dumplings, pigs in a blanket or knoepfle soup, but Lapka’s specialty is strudels. It was one of the first recipes she learned, and years of practice have made her an expert. Three electric skillets sat atop her counter when I arrived. She added water, lard, onions and potatoes, then set strudels on top and closed the lid.”If you open them while they’re cooking they just drop,” Lapka explained.”You’ll have flat dumplings and flat strudels. My kids learned the hard way. If I was making dumplings or strudels, they stayed out of the kitchen.”

Strudels are a temperamental food. If the water is just a few degrees too cool or too hot, the yeast won’t react correctly. And of course they must remain covered. Since Lapka can’t see them cook, she tips the pan after 30 minutes of cooking and listens to see if they are frying inside. If there’s no sizzle, she knows they need more time. Before I left, Lapka showed me freezers packed with 150 pounds of strudels to fill orders from townspeople.

Strudels are a local staple and can be served with sausage and carrots at Vicki Lapka’s weekly German meal.

The foods I sampled in Hosmer and Eureka have been staples of the German diet for centuries, and became part of the South Dakota culinary scene because of events that began unfolding in Europe nearly 250 years ago. Eighteenth century Germany was embroiled in near constant war and home to a state religion that all citizens were required to practice. In 1763, German-born Russian empress Catherine the Great extended an olive branch to her people: she offered freedom from military service and 162 acres of land near the Black and Caspian seas.

Nearly 40,000 Germans relocated over the next century, settling in the Volga River valley and the foothills of the Caucasus Mountains. They lived in tightly knit pockets, practicing their own religion, making their food and observing other social customs. Their successful farming practices transformed southern Russia into the region’s breadbasket. But in 1871, Czar Alexander II revoked Catherine’s edict. Once again, the Germans sought a new homeland.

At the same time, promoters in Dakota Territory were busily recruiting homesteaders to settle the land many Americans derisively called the Great American Desert. Land agents, aware of the Germans’ plight, sent literature to the Russian steppes, hoping to lure the farmers across the ocean. The Germans were intrigued by the Dakota proposition and sent five men to Yankton in 1873 to scout settlement locations.

Thus began the great German migration, which coincided with the Dakota Boom years of 1878 to 1887. In 1880, there were 81,781 people in Dakota Territory. By 1890 the population had swelled to 328,808. Many Schwartzmeerdeutsche, or Black Sea Germans, settled in what became known as the German Russian Triangle of southeastern North Dakota and northeastern South Dakota, especially McPherson County. Another pocket emerged around Freeman and Menno in Hutchinson County.”We were the original draft dodgers,” explained Sally Roesch Wagner’s uncle John in Wagner’s Daughters of Dakota series.

Wagner’s ancestors left their home in Glueckstahl for a new life in America. Like other German families who endured similar relocations, one comforting constant was food. Wagner wrote that her grandmother’s life remained centered around German cuisine.”Grandma cooked like she had in the old country,” Wagner wrote.”Halupsi, or pigs in a blanket as we called the rice, hamburger, cream and tomato wrapped in a cabbage leaf she made for us.” Other German dishes included hot potato salad, a deep red beet soup called borscht, wine soup, kuechla and kuchen,”the bread dough with a fruit and custard filling that some call a cake and others a pie.”

Gerard Heier and his brother David make pepper sticks, sausage and brats at their Hosmer meat market.

Food has remained a constant comfort for South Dakota’s Germans in a way that’s unmatched among descendants of other European homesteaders.”Nationalities still are associated with cuisines, but the interest in preserving these associations by eating specific foods everyday may vary widely,” wrote Gregory Mader in his master’s thesis on ethnic food in the Upper Midwest. Norwegians continue their traditional lutefisk feeds during winter months. Danes make pancake balls called aebleskiver every summer at Viborg’s Danish Days. And the Dalesburg Midsommar Festival features a Scandinavian smorgasbord annually on the summer solstice. But you can find a traditional German meal in cafes across South Dakota every week throughout the year.

The tiny town of Tolstoy in Potter County was without a cafe until Brad and Joletta Naef arrived in 2009. The Naefs had careers in California, but they retired to the town of 36 people and opened Dakota Jo’s Cafe in the old post office. On Thursdays the Naefs serve a German buffet with dishes Joletta learned to make while growing up on a farm five miles northeast of Tolstoy. Favorites include halupii (a cabbage roll with rice, hamburger and tomato), cheese buttons, spaetzle with German sausage, fleisch kuchle and a pumpkin-filled pastry called plachinda.”And there’s a group of ladies who leave sad if we’ve run out of knoepfle soup,” Naef says.

The Main Street Cafe in Bowdle serves German food on Thursdays and stages a grand German buffet the first Sunday of the month. Farther south, Rita Hoff responded to the demands of Menno’s citizenry and began serving German food on Tuesdays. Another delicacy with German origins is chislic, a local favorite served anytime at Papa’s in Freeman or Meridian Corner, at the junction of highways 18 and 81 halfway between Freeman and Yankton. The skewered mutton arrived in Hutchinson County with John Hoellwarth, a German immigrant from Russia. Papa’s serves 3, 6, 9 or 12 sticks either deep fat fried or grilled with lemon pepper, garlic pepper, barbeque or plain. Meridian Corner offers chislic with garlic salt or a special Greek seasoning.

All the German food served in cafes is homemade, including the sausage, which most likely comes from the local meat market. Gerard Heier and Larry Kauk may not realize it, but they are among the most respected members of the German food culture hierarchy.”Germans developed butchering and sausage making into a fine art,” wrote Rose Marie Gueldner in her book, German Food and Folkways.”Even after the wane of farm butchering in the last half of the 1900s, the reputation of the German Metzger and Wurstmeister was carried on by individuals doing custom butchering and small town grocers making and selling sausage. During settlement and succeeding decades most country people had no reason to patronize the town’s meat market except to occasionally buy several rings, sticks or links of sausage from a butcher so esteemed in the craft that his name and products were spoken with a certain reverence.”

Eureka butchers Larry Kauk (left) and his son Tim ship their authentic German fry sausage from coast to coast.

Meat is king in German cuisine, and pork is the star. German families chose to butcher hogs because cows produced milk and far more meat than a family could consume before spoilage. With hogs, families could”use everything but the squeal,” Gueldner wrote. Butchers carved hams, roasts, bacon and sausage. Hog fat became lard, and the intestines provided perfect casings for specialty sausages.

Heier and Kauk both come from butchering families. Heier’s ancestors followed the Germany-to-Russia-to-South Dakota route, disembarking the train in Hosmer and homesteading six miles northwest of town. His father, Joseph, opened Heier’s Meat Market one block off Hosmer’s main street in 1966 using his grandfather’s locally famous sausage recipe.

Heier began working in the locker at age 10, but he left Hosmer to work as a computer technician in Rapid City. He returned in 1981 to take over the meat market after his father died. He and his brother, David, have tinkered with the family recipe, and their sausage remains so popular that they make 100,000 pounds every year.”We’ll sell the spices, but we won’t give out the recipe,” Heier says.”We’ve had a lot of calls from people who want to know, but we won’t give it out.”

Other wurstmeisters follow the tenets of sausage secrecy, but not Larry Kauk. Both of Kauk’s grandfathers were butchers, and he learned the trade on the family farm near Artas. In 1982 he built a huge locker and processing facility on the north side of Eureka along Highway 47. Kauk’s meat market produces hams, steaks, brats, but their signature item is fry sausage. They ship hundreds of pounds of fry sausage to McPherson County expatriates from coast to coast.

“There’s no secret to it,” Kauk says, matter-of-factly.”We make it the way the old Germans did in the old days. You take good, fresh pork meat and add salt, pepper and garlic. I’m sorry if you were looking for some big surprise. The people who used to make it years ago are all in the grave, so that’s why I keep doing it. That’s what I hear all the time. ëDad used to make that and now we can’t find it anymore.’ So we’re not doing anything different.”

Still, people can’t seem to replicate Kauk’s fry sausage. That’s evident in the 2,000 pounds he and his cadre of butchers make every week.

Traditional German cuisine remains popular around the state.”You should have bought me some liver sausage,” one relative said after he’d learned I had visited Kauk’s. The butchers and chefs I met are artisans, guardians of a food culture that dates back hundreds of years and across three continents. But I noticed a lack of youth in the places I visited. Perhaps they are steering clear of the heavy German food, especially when so much attention is directed toward obesity. Foods cooked in lard don’t necessarily subscribe to any nutritionist’s plan for healthy eating. Many German recipes have stood the test of time, but some small town chefs worry that eventually no one will remember how to prepare them.

“That’s really sad,” Lapka says.”They’ll come in and ask for a pan full of strudels. Well they could cook them, but they don’t know how. It’s so easy to just come buy the strudels, go home and cook them, but they don’t want to do that. Once I get up there to where I can’t really do it anymore, my kids have never really learned it. My daughter can do knoepfle, but she hasn’t mastered strudels yet. I hope to teach them. If we don’t keep this going, we’re going to lose it all.”

If any 20- or 30-somethings want to learn to make strudels, dumplings or fleish kuechle, they will find many willing teachers. In the meantime, a hot bowl of knoepfle soup or a plate of cheese buttons is never more than a few days away.


Ruth Schumacher’s Cheese Buttons

Traditional German cheese buttons can be boiled or fried.

Ingredients

Dough:

3 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 eggs

3/4 cup water

Filling:

22 ounces cottage cheese

2 eggs

salt and pepper to taste

Combine ingredients and roll out dough. Cut into 4-inch squares. Put 1 tablespoon of the cheese mixture onto square. Press edges to seal. Boil for 7 to 10 minutes until they float and then drain, or fry in butter at 350 degrees for 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Top with fried breadcrumbs or seasoned salt.

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A Roots Soup

The Schumacher family (from left — Signe, Evie and J.P.) enjoy a summer tradition of making a batch of borscht soup.

This story is about the adhesive qualities of a beet soup called borscht. The soup won’t hold plastics or wood together, but it has amazing bonding qualities for people.

Borscht came to South Dakota in the 1880s when Germans-from-Russia emigrated to escape religious and political persecution. Among them were the Wenzels, Lapkas and Schumachers.

The immigrants and their offspring became immersed in South Dakota culture, but they didn’t forget their roots or soups. Walter and Vivian Wenzel were second-generation South Dakotans who farmed and also operated a movie theater and bowling alley in Eureka.”Everybody around Eureka had their favorite recipe for borscht and mother made it at home when I was growing up,” says the Wenzels’ daughter, Marilyn Nef, who lives in Milbank.

Marilyn left Eureka for college in Brookings in the early 1960s and remembers feeling surprised when her parents then decided to expand their movie theater with a restaurant named — of all things — The Borscht Kettle.

“Mother had been a stay-at-home mom who gardened and was a housewife,” Marilyn recalls.”She also helped at the theater, selling tickets and the like. But after I went to college she went down and learned from scratch how to run a restaurant and order supplies and do all the things you have to do to be successful. I was really proud of her.”

Naturally, the beet soup became a staple at The Borscht Kettle, along with other German specialties such as strudels, barushka, knoepfla and cheese buttons (aka kase knoepfla).”It was really a normal Midwestern cafe,” she says.”It was a short order place with hamburgers, eggs and pancakes along with some of mom’s German recipes.”

The Wenzels ran the place until the mid 1990s. Today, it’s operated as the Lyric Lanes and Restaurant by Vicki Lapka, the great-granddaughter of German-Russian immigrants. She occasionally serves borscht and regularly features other ethnic dishes — including strudels and dumplings for Tuesday lunches and either strudels or cheese buttons on Saturday nights.

Some of the immigrants’ descendants still farm or run businesses in McPherson County. Many more have left the rural countryside, but hold tight to their forebears’ foods. Luther Schumacher grew up on the family farm between Leola and Eureka, and then went into education. He retired as a school principal in Aberdeen.”Borscht was a staple of summer because we always had fresh beets,” he says.”We picked the best leaves with the brightest colors. Talk about healthy food, that was it.” He makes borscht every summer, and is showing his daughters how to cook it and other German foods.

Luther’s sister, Nina Kunz, also continues the borscht tradition.”It is a summertime soup because you use fresh vegetables from the garden,” she says.”You can use canned beets and whatever, but when it comes out of the garden it has a taste that can’t come from the can. The fresh dill and the beets especially must come right from the garden. The beets give you that beautiful ruby red color. It’s a beautiful soup.”

She and her husband, Kenny, live on the original Schumacher farm.”One of the greatest things about living here is knowing as I walk around the yard that my great-grandpa and grandma walked here and my uncle and my aunt walked here, and now our two sons are here, and their sons are the sixth generation.”

The Kunzes’ daughter visited from Fargo last summer. Before leaving North Dakota, she made a request to her mom.”Would you have some borscht soup ready when I get home?”

Nina knows variations of borscht.”There’s a green borscht, a chicken stock soup that you add a lot of the new growth dill, fresh carrots and fresh garden onions and then the beet leaves. You make it early in the season when the leaves are tender and add some garden potatoes and a little bit of rice.”

“The more we get settled in Sioux Falls, the more we want to hold onto our family food traditions. I grew up on lefse and krumkake but borscht is important to the German family that I married into.”

Kenny and Nina operate a bed & breakfast called the Northern Kross Lodge on their farm. The lodge is a renovated Congregational church building from nearby Greenway. Hunters and other guests are thrilled when Nina serves German recipes like sweet & sour cabbage (seezkraut) with pork sausage from Kauk’s Meat Market in Eureka and kuchen for dessert.

Luther and Nina’s nephew, J.P. Schumacher, moved to Sioux Falls, where he met Signe Hanson, a blonde with Scandinavian roots and no knowledge of German beet soup.

“Once, when I was dating J.P.,” Signe says,”I looked in his refrigerator and all I saw was beer, pickles and a quart of something that was blood-red.” His grandmother had given him a jar of borscht.

The blood-like jar didn’t scare Signe away. After they were wed, she wanted to learn to make some of the traditional recipes J.P. grew up eating. He insisted that borscht be included on the list. So, on a weekend visit back to McPherson County, J.P.’s step-mother Cindy taught Signe to make the summer soup.

The reddish color comes from beets, which also give the soup a tart summer sweetness and freshness. She found that she could get beef bones from Western Locker in Sioux Falls.”Supermarkets have soup bones, but there’s not as much good, tender meat on theirs.”

She says part of the tradition and taste is to grow as much of the vegetables as possible in your own garden.”We usually make a batch every summer and we’ll freeze three or four quarts, and come January we wonder why we didn’t make another batch.”

Their daughter, Evie, started eating borscht at the age of one.”We have pictures of her first spoonful,” Signe says.”She loved it, maybe because of the color. She ate it by the fistfuls.” When Evie turned four, she told her mother that she wanted to watch the soup-making so she could learn to do it herself.

“J.P. and I are not connected to the farm on a daily basis,” Signe says.”It’s not our lifestyle. But we want to carry on some of our family traditions for Evie. The more we get settled in Sioux Falls, the more we want to hold onto our family food traditions. I grew up on lefse and krumkake but borscht is important to the German family that I married into.”

Signe happily shares the old recipe. Awhile back, she met Kristin Tanner at the Living Word Free Lutheran Church. The two young wives became friends while serving in the same ministries, and they also discovered that both of their families shared roots in Eureka. In fact, Kristin’s mother is Marilyn Wenzel Nef, the daughter of the Eureka couple who founded The Borscht Kettle.

“Kristin had never made it,” Signe says,”so I shared some of our borscht with her family.” Kristin now makes it herself, using her grandmother’s recipe.

And that’s how borscht holds people together.


Schumacher Family’s Borscht Soup

Signe Schumacher grew up on lefse and krumkake, but keeps the borscht tradition going for the German family she married into.

Fill stock pot or soup kettle with water, about half-way.

Add:
Beef soup bones
3 bay leaves
2 celery stalks (with leaves)
1 whole onion (unpeeled)
2 large dill heads (about palm size)
12 peppercorns, whole

Simmer for two hours. Strain broth into fine strainer, removing beef to a clean bowl. Discard bay leaves, celery stalks, onion, dill and peppercorns. Pick edible beef chunks off bone.

Return broth to pot and add:
Beef chunks
1 can diced tomatoes
2 cans tomato soup, undiluted
2-3 medium beets, peeled and diced (save beet leaves)
3 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
2 carrots, diced
About 1 cup chopped cabbage
Handful of white rice

Simmer for about an hour, then add:
Handful of corn
Handful of peas
2 handfuls of green beans, bite sized
7-8 beet leaves, deveined & chopped

Heat for 5-10 minutes. Eat immediately or may be frozen. May also immediately transfer to quart jars, wiping the rim clean. Lids will seal themselves with their heat. Can be stored in refrigerator for a couple of weeks.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the May/June 2011 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order this back issue or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.