THE first time we ever went to see my husband's family in Poland at Christmas 16 years ago, on the plane we asked the hostess if we'd be landing in Krakow on time, to be greeted by howls of mirth from surrounding passengers.

Seasoned Polish travellers these, one told us that there would shortly be an announcement we were diverting to Warsaw because of the weather. The pilot and aircrew always liked to end up in Warsaw for Christmas, she said.

Like the wise men following the star, it all happened just as she foretold. And some hours later an ancient coach arrived to take us overnight through the mountains from Warsaw to Krakow.

It was a journey of bitter cold where at midnight, on a high pass, the driver bizarrely stopped and took us into a night club for an hour to warm up on dancing and vodka. Day was dawning when we finally arrived in Krakow, shivering and hungover; it was Christmas Eve.

But sleep was denied as I was immediately thrown into the turmoil of a Polish kitchen at Christmas where my husband's redoubtable great aunt was in charge of proceedings. The beetroot soup was simmering, two large chickens sitting outside on the balcony. In Poland you need no freezer in winter.

She showed me how to make uszka - literally ears, because that is their shape - delicious little pasta dumplings stuffed with the wild mushrooms they had found and dried in autumn. Some two dozen people were coming to that Christmas Eve feast in our honour, so all day long I made these fiddly little beasts, but it was worth it.

They are cooked briefly in boiling, salted water, then added to the ambrosial Barszcz, a dazzling ruby tinted beetroot soup of consomm clarity with an unbelievable fragrance - and, incidentally, a great hangover cure. If a single girl finds a pair of linked uszki in her soup she will marry within the year; if a married woman, she will have twins!

The traditional Christmas Eve main course is carp, a large fresh water fish not that easy to find here. In Poland they try to cook it whole, if not too large, either baked in the oven or simmered, possibly with beer, and served with a sauce flavoured with gingerbread.

I seem to remember we also had roast smoked pork loin which I will certainly be serving here on Boxing or New Year's Day. It is the most delicately flavoured ham which I wrap in foil, oven bake, then serve cold in wafer thin slices with pickled red cabbage and small gherkins.

My husband's great legion of female relatives strove to outdo each other in the cake department - there was the wonderful yeasty sweet poppyseed roll, Mazurek, Christmas fruit bars made with chopped nuts, glace fruit and candied peel, and spicy honeycake which we had right at the end with Krupnik - honey vodka.

Beetroot soup is a great standby over the festive season, and instead of making uszka you can go in any of our local supermarkets and by fresh tiny pasta shapes filled with pork, spinach or cream cheese, which will do just as well:

Beetroot Soup

1.75 litres (3 pints) good stock (you could use the turkey carcass, or vegetables for vegetarians)

1 large onion, quartered

2 large carrots, sliced

2 celery stalks, sliced

25g (1oz) dried mushrooms, soaked in hot water for 30 minutes

750g (1.5lb) fresh beetroots, peeled and roughly cubed

2 bayleaves

1 tbsp chopped fresh parsley

1 tbsp sugar

2 egg whites, whisked

Salt and pepper to season

Put first eight ingredients into a large, heavy pan, bring to simmering point, cover and leave to simmer for around 90 minutes. Strain through a colander into a bowl and discard all the vegetables.

Wash the pan, pour the liquor back into it, bring to simmering point and add the sugar - taste and add a little more if wished. Keep the broth simmering and pour in the whipped egg whites; as soon as they cook, within seconds, immediately strain through a fine sieve. The egg whites give the soup its clarity. Again wash the pan, then return the clear broth to it. Warm through again and season to taste. Cook the pasta, if used, separately and place half a dozen in each soup bowl before ladling in the soup.

December 19, 2001 12:30