Kolobok, Kolobok, from the Grandma I Escaped…

Once upon the time, in a magical land of great forests, Onion Domes and warrior princes, there lived an old couple, Grandma and Grandpa. One day, Grandpa says to Grandma, “Bake me a pie.”

“With what? – sighs the old woman, – we have nothing.”

“Sweep the cupboards, scratch the bins, let’s see what you find!”

So Grandma did just that: she swept the cupboards and scratched the bins, and found a handful of flour. She asked her chicken Ryaba nicely, and Ryaba gave up a couple of eggs. Seeing how generous Ryaba was, the cow Buryonka donated some milk, to make prostokvasha (clabbered milk). Grandma made beautiful dough – oh, Grandma was such a pie expert! She always made the best dough, but unfortunately, there was nothing to be scavenged for a filling, to make a kulebyaka pie.

“No big deal, – said Grandpa, “this dough looks so good, I can’t wait for my pie to be baked already! Just make a kolobok instead of kulebyaka, and be done with it, woman!”

Smiling, kindly Grandma formed one big dough ball and baked a kolobok.

As she placed it on the window seal to cool off, Kolobok decided to take a hike. This was a magical land, after all! So he just rolled along down the path in the forest, until he met a rabbit.

“Kolobok, Kolobok, -said the rabbit, – I’m gonna eat you!”

Kolobok, Kolobok,

From the Grandma I escaped,

From the Grandpa I escaped, 

And from you, little rabbit, 

I will also escape!

…sang Kolobok and quickly rolled away. The rabbit gave up chase, but a wolf blocked his path:

“Kolobok, Kolobok, – yelled the wolf, – I’m gonna eat you!”

Kolobok, Kolobok,

From the Grandma I escaped,

From the Grandpa I escaped, 

From the rabbit I escaped, 

And from you, grey wolf, 

I will also escape!

…sang Kolobok and kept rolling. The wolf, who was really more interested in rabbits than pies, gave up chase, but a huge bear lumbered out:

“Kolobok, Kolobok, – growled the bear, – I’m gonna eat you!”

Kolobok, Kolobok,

From the Grandma I escaped,

From the Grandpa I escaped, 

From the rabbit I escaped, 

From the wolf I escaped,

And from you, big bear, 

I will also escape!

…sang Kolobok and didn’t even hurry too much because the bear was really slow, but a wily fox appeared on the path, all dressed up and pretty.

“Kolobok, Kolobok, – whispered the fox in her most seductive voice, – I’m gonna eat you!”

Kolobok, Kolobok,

From the Grandma I escaped,

From the Grandpa I escaped, 

From the rabbit I escaped, 

From the wolf I escaped,

From the bear I escaped,

And from you, wily fox, 

I will also escape!

…started his ditty Kolobok, but the wily fox glided closer and murmured, “I am a little hard of hearing, dear Kolobok, would you come and sit on my nose, and sing your darling song again?”

“Sure thing, lady, – obliged Kolobok, and hopped onto the fox’ nose.

“Yum, – said the fox, – now where do I find a cup of coffee after such a scrumptious meal?”

It is scrumptious, even as a simple kolobok, a baked dough ball, but stuffed with traditional fillings and transformed into a many-tiered kulebyaka, it becomes so spectacular that Prince Yuri Dolgorukiy (“The Long-Armed”), supposedly ordered it served at a “strong feast” – a grand banquet attended by many other princes, his friends cum enemies.

According to the historians’ descriptions, Prince Yuti was a big guy, quite overweight, and not very attractive in appearance, not at all like the monument commissioned by Stalin but installed after Stalin’s death. Stalin propagated the legend of a fierce, yet kindly, brilliant warrior, a true knight and a founder of Moscow. None of it is true. Yuri acquired the nickname Long-Armed because he grabbed as many princedoms as he could lay his arms on, by hook or by crook, but very rarely by valor in battle.  Moscow didn’t even exist in his time, 11th – 12th centuries, but there stood a village whose owner, nobleman Kuchka, was killed by Yuri’s order because Yuri happened to fancy his wife. As a consolidation, the prince married off late Kuchka’s daughter to his son and heir, thus ensuring the legitimacy of the future site of the future nation’s capital that was built there somewhat later. Altogether, Prince Yuri’s history is wrought with “supposeds” as nothing is clear, not even his date of birth.

What is more or less accurate is that at the banquet attended by his “friendly enemies,” a  huge oval pie stuffed with several layers, or tiers, of different fillings was supposedly served. Kulebyaka has become a quintessential Russian dish, a symbol of Moscow, and even a metaphor for the ubiquitous “mysterious Russian soul,” multi-layered in its complexity.

Classic kulebyaka is filled with meat, fish, mushrooms, and cabbage, or a combination of all four. Sometimes hard-boiled eggs or kasha (cooked buckwheat) are added, to create more layers. You will hear of a two-corner or a four corner kulebyaka, but it doesn’t mean that different fillings are placed into different corners. It that were the case, some of your guests would get a slice with mushrooms, and the others – with fish. Oh no, trust those devious Russian princes to come up with paper-thin triangular pancakes separating the layers.

This way, each slice has some of every filling, but in different proportion. This time, I am using only three fillings: vegan beefless ground meat, mushrooms, and cabbage.

This is a “lazy kulebyaka,” so I am not bothering with thin pancakes to separate the layers. I have shredded my cabbage, sliced my mushrooms, and chopped some fresh parsley.

As you see, I am sauteing all three together instead of cooking them separately, as the classic recipe demands. I am hoping that the long arms of Prince Yuri will not reach me in my own kitchen, to inflict a terrible punishment for mangling “the symbol of Moscow.” Anyway, he didn’t build it, so what right does he have?!

While the veggies are cooking, it’s time to make the dough. I am using spelt flour (please consult your physician if you are allergic to gluten or have a celiac disease). I don’t have chicken Ryaba, nor any other chicken, but I have recently gotten hooked on using aquafaba (liquid you get when you cook chickpeas) as an egg substitute.

You can use a hand mixer to whip aquafaba to a foam, like you would do egg whites. It doesn’t have to peak, but once it’s airy and fluffy, you can add the rest of the ingredients. I also don’t have cow Buryonka, but I always have a supply of my homemade non-dairy prostokvasha (clabbered milk; for instructions please click here).  Classic kulebyaka is made of yeast dough, but Grandma in the fairy tale used only prostokvasha for her delicious dough to rise, and so do I. A pinch of baking powder helps, though, and just a sprinkle of xylitol (you can use sugar, if you want, or any sugar substitute you like). Some olive oil, salt and pepper to season, and a pinch of coriander powder (that’s my personal addition, just for fun!) – and you get a liquefied batter, rather than dough, more like pancake batter.

Preheat your oven to 350 F, mist a baking pan with oil, and pour half of the batter into the pan. By this time, your filling should be ready. Russian chefs explain that the difference between kulebyaka and other pies is that in pies, dough prevails, and filling usually is a quarter to a third of the pie’s volume; however, in a kulebyaka, it is the opposite – fillings take center stage. I’ve heard of a legendary fourteen-layer kulebyaka, but since we are making a lazy one, without layers, just plop your filling on top of the dough (or batter, if you will), and pour the rest of the dough on top of the filling.

About 50 – 60 minutes later, it’ll come out of the oven looking golden brown and smelling like heaven. Of course, if you want to go all out, make those dainty little pancakes, and layer four or more different fillings, be my guest, but you’ll have to make the traditional yeast dough, proof it, punch it down, kneed it, and ultimately spend half a day on it. Have fun!

We were quite happy with a crusty golden kulebyaka, filled with juicy savory goodness. Most importantly, even though I made it round, rather than in a traditional oval shape, it didn’t roll away, to be consumed by seductive wily foxes. We enjoyed it all, to the last tasty crumb!

INGREDIENTS

• 2 cups finely shredded cabbage
• 1/2 pint sliced mushrooms
• 1/2 cup ground beef substitute
• 1/2 cup fresh chopped parsley
• 1 1/2 cup aquafaba (chickpea liquid)
• 1/2 cup prostokvasha (clabbered milk)
• 1 1/2 cup spelt flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 teaspoon xylitol or sweetener of your choice
• 1 teaspoon coriander powder
• Salt and pepper to taste

PROCEDURE

• Saute cabbage with mushrooms, ground beef substitute, and parsley until softened and well blended. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
• Preheat oven to 350 F. Lightly mist baking pan with oil.
• Whip aquafaba until foamy, add prostokvasha, baking powder, and olive oil, and whisk together. Add the rest of ingredients, including salt and pepper to taste. Mix gently but thoroughly to consistency of pancake batter.
• Pour half of batter into oiled pan, place filling on top of batter, pour the rest of batter to cover filling.
• Bake for 50 – 60 minutes until golden and crusty. Small cracks will appear when ready.
• Serve hot.

Enjoy!