Russia - At the Table: Food and Family around the World - Ken Albala

At the Table: Food and Family around the World - Ken Albala (2016)

Russia

Katrina Kollegaeva

This was a Sunday afternoon dinner that took place in the house of a Russian couple who are originally from Moscow and moved to London some 10 years ago. They were joined by their grown-up daughters, including one from the wife’s previous marriage. As this was during the festive period, in the run-up to New Year’s Eve and Christmas celebrations, the family invited the wife’s cousin, who is also of Russian descent but grew up in Estonia before moving to Britain. Both the wife (KB) and the cousin (KK) really enjoy cooking and are known within their families and circles of friends for taking pleasure in having people around: entertaining and feeding them. Both women have turned to food as their source of comfort and inspiration, especially after they had migrated, wanting to both maintain the links with their culture and build an understanding in the new country.

Albala

Enjoying New Year’s Eve celebrations with a “de-constructed” Napoleon cake—the cake of festivities during the Soviet era, and still today. (Courtesy of Natasha Nestman)

Drinking Customs

Customs governing the consumption of alcoholic beverages at the table vary widely across cultures. In some places, people will regularly help themselves to whatever they like. In most Asian cultures someone else must always pour for you, and it would be considered impolite not to drink thereafter. Toasting is even more complex, and in some cultures such as the republic of georgia, it is an integral part of the meal, with people making long speeches. Some societies consider it very uncouth to become drunk at the table, though interestingly in some settings and among some cultures it is rude not to drink heavily. Rarely is the family dinner such a setting, though it can be if guests are present or if it is a festive occasion.

The Menu

Oladushki pancakes served with salmon caviar and sour cream

Sauerkraut with dill

Zucchini “caviar”

Marinated mushrooms

Sweet-cured herring with beetroot

Salami

Borsch with Borodinsky bread

De-constructed Napoleon cake of phyllo pastry, whipped cream, pomegranate seeds, and almonds

Drinks: vodka Belochka and black tea with lemon

The dinner consisted of several zakuski (sing. zakuska), traditional Russian small appetizers that often start the meal with an accompaniment of vodka (or other alcoholic drinks). These are served family style, likely in a combination of cold and warm zakuski, before the main course (goryacheye, meaning “hot course”) is served, which in this case was simply bowls of soup. The meal was finished with a cake, enjoyed by all from one large platter, alongside black tea.

Russians to this day tend to favor “proper” hot meals consisting of two to three dishes for their afternoon meal. This dinner being on a weekend during the Christmas period was a little more elaborate, mainly in the number of zakuski served and the fact that a cake was made from scratch. Alcohol is not a standard addition to the meals of this family (or many Russian families in general), but because of the time of the year and the wife’s cousin joining the table, a bottle of vodka was opened.

PREPARATION

The dishes that needed cooking were all made by KB and KK, mainly that day. KK arrived in KB’s house early in the morning, and they cooked until others arrived at around 2:00 p.m. The women have asked others to bring some ingredients along, sometimes specifying what they needed. Some dishes were therefore quickly assembled together by others on arrival, about half an hour before the family sat down to the meal.

ON ZAKUSKI

Many Russians would joke that zakuski are in fact the main event of a meal, the goryacheye (main course) being almost an afterthought. As in many other cultures (e.g., mezes and tapas), these small plates are there in Russia to excite one’s tastes, to get one’s juices going before the main meal.

Russian zakuski often combine strong flavors, such as fermented or soured vegetables, pickled mushrooms, and marinated fish alongside baked or fried goods, which go particularly well with strong spirits such as vodka.

OLADUSHKI PANCAKES SERVED WITH SALMON CAVIAR AND SOUR CREAM

Oladushki are little plump pancakes normally made with wheat flour, kefir (a traditional Russian dairy product of soured milk that is sometimes translated as “buttermilk” in English), and a bit of baking soda as rising agents. The trick is to fry the oladushki in hot oil quite quickly so that they fluff up and the edges get crisp.

Russian kids absolutely love them, especially for breakfast with jam and sour cream. But here KB wanted a slightly more glamorous zakuska and served them as a savory course with salmon eggs.

As it happens, KB had made a batch of oladushki several weeks prior to this dinner, and as there were lots of leftovers, she frozen them. So on this occasion she just took the oladushki out of a freezer the night before to defrost and just before serving briefly reheated them in a microwave.

Kefir that is used for this recipe is particularly dear to the hearts of Russians. Even though the ingredient has many counterparts in other cultures, such as ayran in Turkey, kefir’s special sour flavor cannot be matched, many would say. Kefir’s health properties are also legendary, and the drink is considered to be really good for all ages (kefir with sugar was a popular drink of children in Soviet times in particular).

Until recently kefir was difficult to source in London, but now it is stocked by many Russian shops. In the last year one start-up business even began making kefir in the southwest of England using local and organic milk and is now selling the product through such retailers as Whole Foods. KB bought this kefir for her oladushki, swearing by its special properties and “just as we remember it” flavor.

Caviar was also bought in a Russian shop that is often frequented by the hostess—this red salmon variety being a much more modestly priced type of caviar. Caviar is of course still very much associated with luxury and celebrations. During the Soviet era, caviar was among the top ingredients in deficit and could be obtained only on the black market, referred to as blat.

Sour cream topped the oladushki with caviar. The brands bought in East European shops are particularly favored because the cream has a much higher fat level, a thicker consistency, and a more intensely sour flavor—as opposed to the sour cream sold in British supermarkets.

SAUERKRAUT WITH DILL

Sauerkraut is another of those products that many Russians, including this family, seem to crave on a regular basis. Again, regarded of as highly vitaminnaya (i.e., full of vitamins), fermented cabbage used to be one of the few vegetables available to the Slavs in the centuries before refrigeration. To this day many women would make sauerkraut at home, fermenting it in buckets on small balconies in high-rise apartment buildings.

KB asked one of her daughters to buy some sauerkraut in a Russian shop she often goes to, making a point to look for the “right stuff”—the instruction somewhat difficult to convey that refers to the cabbage that is very crunchy, not too salty, and often sold in na razves (loose, in bulk) from wooden buckets or not particularly attractive plain plastic bags.

The daughter was then instructed to add some raw chopped onion to the sauerkraut and some flavorful Ukrainian unrefined sunflower oil that KB was given as a special gift by a friend.

MARINATED MUSHROOMS

The girl also bought some marinated mushrooms, on this occasion a jar of opyata (honey agaric). Wild mushrooms are a very significant part of Russian food and folkloric culture. Foraging for mushrooms is still an important pastime for many Russians and an activity that those living in London often remark as missing. KB and her husband tried at the beginning of their life in London to gather groups of family and friends to po griby (go on mushroom forage trips) but never found the experience satisfying. Either they had to travel quite a long distance outside of London to find suitable woods or were confused by local varieties of mushrooms to the extent that they didn’t feel confident about picking any; they were also uncertain about the regulations for foraging more broadly in the United Kingdom.

The oldest daughter simply washed the marinated mushrooms under tap water (if not washed the mushrooms retain their gloopy consistency otherwise, something that some Russians really love but others—as well as most Westerners—cannot stomach) and added some chopped raw onions, parsley, and olive oil.

ZUCCHINI “CAVIAR”

This “caviar” used to be among the only products always available in the “good old days” of the Soviet Union, KK was explaining to everyone around the table excitedly. Sold in giant jars, it was nevertheless always popular. The caviar’s color is dark red/brown because of the long stewing, the addition of tomatoes, and the all-important allspice (called “aromatic pepper” in Russia).

As with the oladushki, this dish had been made in advance and was frozen by KK. She defrosted it the night before and brought it along with her, then simply put it in a bowl, added a swirl of olive oil, and sprinkled some parsley.

They ate the caviar by putting some onto slices of Borodinsky rye bread. This bread has quite an iconic status back in Russia. Legend has it that the recipe was invented during the Napoleonic Wars by the widow of General Alexander Tuchkov, who perished in the Battle of Borodino. The widow set up a convent and created a bread recipe to serve at mourning events—hence, arguably, the bread’s dark, solemn color and round coriander seeds representing gunshots.

Kefir (and dairy products more generally) and rye bread are the two items that migrants from the former Soviet Union often name as the top products they miss when moving to Britain. Even a decade ago, these ingredients were very difficult to source, but with the food revolution in London, especially around good-quality bread, many bakeries have started to sell breads made using North European recipes.

KB and KK normally buy Borodinsky in the Russian shops from a bakery that is run by a Lithuanian Belorussian family. Borodinsky is KB’s favorite bread.

SWEET CURED HERRING WITH BEETROOT

Another dish based on the product bought in the Russian shop is sweet cured herring. This particular brand is made in Lithuania. The product is really quite different from Scandinavian rollmops sold widely in British supermarkets that have a more sour taste. The Russian way of curing herring and then marinating it in oil means that it is much milder and slightly sweeter, and the texture is softer. KK in particular swears by this brand and claims to crave it on a regular basis.

KK assembled a zakuski, which is roughly based on the iconic Soviet dish herring under a fur coat (layers of herring covered by potato, beetroot, and mayonnaise). She cut the herring into large chunks, similar in size to beetroot that she had cooked earlier and cut into chunks; added sliced gherkins and lots of chopped dill; and dressed with olive oil and lemon.

SLICED SALAMI

The Russian zakuski table (most certainly its more formal celebratory version) almost always has a spread of cold meats. Here the family just had a plate of the Italian salami bought in a local supermarket “for the men amongst us,” KK and KB joked. It is a norm for Russian men to favor meat during meals, so it is widely considered and thought of as proper. And even though this dinner was prepared solely by women and eaten mainly by women who didn’t need much meat by their admission, they wanted to offer at least one dish based on animal protein (which they happily ate themselves later).

Zakuski were served family style, that is, in bowls and platters with extra forks and spoons so that each person could help themselves. Each person around the table had their own plate, a fork and a knife, and a paper napkin. There was no particular rule in terms of the order of serving dishes. At some point at the beginning KB brought a plate of oladushki with caviar, so it was easier for her just to take it around each person, offering the oladushki. With other zakuski people just helped themselves whenever they felt like adding more.

The exception to this rule is the alcohol. The bottle of vodka was bought by the husband a few days earlier and kept in a freezer together with shot glasses. (The vodka is the Russian brand Belochka, a name that means “little squirrel” and has a humorous play on words in Russian: beloya gorachka means “delirium tremens,” the psychotic state that alcoholism can lead to. The term belochka is a shortened version of beloya gorachka.) He then was responsible for topping off the women’s glasses at regular intervals (he himself was not drinking, as he was to drive in the evening) and taking the bottle off the table as soon as it was empty (a bad sign otherwise in popular superstition).

BORSCH WITH BORODINSKY BREAD

Soup is an integral part of a Russian meal to this day. Many grow up hearing from their mothers and grandmothers about the importance of hot liquid soup on a daily basis.

Normally soups form part of the first course and are then followed by a goryacheye (meat with grains and vegetables), but here KB and KK decided to serve borsch, effectively, as the main course just because it was a particularly cold weather spell and they “needed some hot soup in them.”

KK made the borsch after arriving at KB’s house in the morning. There are as many ways of making a borsch as there are cooks, but most recipes these days contain beetroot (although some research argues that the prototype of borsch was being made before beetroot arrived in Russia with the root called borschevik), potatoes, and cabbage of some kind. KK uses the recipe of her Ukrainian mother—the borsch is vegetarian with the addition of kidney beans (out of a can) and a bit of fresh chili. The latter is not traditional, but KK came to like spicier food after her arrival in the United Kingdom.

The soup was made in a big saucepan and ladled out into bowls in the kitchen by KK. KK and KB’s daughters then brought the bowls to the dining room, starting with the father, then mother, and then the rest. Each person helped themselves to a dollop of sour cream and chopped herbs. But KB actually prefers mayonnaise with her borsch and lots of cracked black pepper.

DECONSTRUCTED NAPOLEON CAKE OF PHYLLO PASTRY, WHIPPED CREAM, POMEGRANATE SEEDS, AND ALMONDS

The Napoleon cake is another classic Soviet dish that had originated in France, where it is known as mille feuille (cake of a thousand layers).

KB’s husband had asked for something “nice and sweet” for the end of the dinner, and as the mood was a bit more festive, KB and her cousin decided to assemble a version of the Napoleon cake. They call it “deconstructed” because it takes only the main elements of the classic cake but is so much easier to make. Instead of making pastry from scratch, KB bought phyllo dough, which KK baked quickly in the oven and then broke into pieces randomly (in fact, KB’s daughters were later helping with the fun process). KK whipped some double cream (instead of the original custard cream) and interspersed layers of pastry with cream, roasted flakes of almonds, and topped with pomegranate seeds.

The whole family ended up helping themselves to the cake from one large platter by using spoons and then fingers. KB brewed some very strong tea in a pot—zavarka in Russian—that she brought to the table and poured into cups, topping it off with hot water depending on everyone’s preferences. Eating the cake with dark tea with slices of lemon finished the meal.

THE CLEANUP

The meal was finished at about 5:00 p.m., which is longer than the usual Russian obed (lunch) would take, but this being a Sunday afternoon and only a few days before Christmas, the family lingered over more tea and crumbs of the cake.

The clearing of the plates was done in two stages. KK and KB, with some help from KB’s daughters, cleared all plates and cutlery after the savory courses, just leaving glasses behind. KB has a dishwasher, so the girls helped with clearing the remnants of the food while KB put the dishes in the dishwasher.

After the cake was eaten, KK and KB took charge of clearing the rest of the plates. One of the daughters cleaned and tidied the table. Another daughter (who had lived in the house until very recently, before going to university) made sure all the leftover food was put in Tupperware containers. KK and the older daughter took some of the remaining zucchini caviar and bread back home with them. The husband took care of clearing the glasses and bottles at the end.

Courgette (Zucchini) Caviar

About 1½ pounds of courgettes (which is about three marrows—the variety traditionally used by Russians—or an equivalent to smaller courgettes), peeled and deseeded

2 carrots (about 1 cup), peeled and cubed

2 onions (a little less than 1 cup), sliced

3 tablespoons of tomato paste

4 garlic cloves, crushed

½ cup of celery sticks, chopped

Juice of ½ lemon

½ teaspoon allspice

2 teaspoons sugar

1 teaspoon black pepper

2 teaspoons salt

1 bunch of fresh parsley, chopped

1.Fry marrow in batches in vegetable oil until golden brown. Add 6 tablespoons of water and continue cooking covered until soft.

2.Meanwhile, fry onions, carrots, celery, and garlic and cook for about 10 minutes. Add 5 tablespoons of water and continue cooking until carrots are softened.

3.Mix both vegetable mixtures together. Blend the mixture with a hand blender in the pan, leaving some bits coarse. Add the tomato paste, lemon, and all the spices. Mix well and cook for another 10 minutes.

4.Add chopped parsley and mix through.

5.Cool the caviar down and keep in the fridge until needed. The caviar improves in flavor if left to steep for a day or two.

FURTHER READING

Baldry, Karina. Russia on a Plate. London: Stonewash DD&AG, 2010.

Burlakoff, Nikolai. The World of Russian Borsch. n.p.: CreateSpace, 2013.

Caldwell, Melissa. Dacha Idylls: Living Organically in Russia’s Countryside. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010.

Caldwell, Melissa. Food and Everyday Life in the Post-Socialist World. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009.

Goldstein, Darra. A Taste of Russia: A Cookbook of Russian Hospitality. Montpelier, VT: Edward and Dee, 2013.

Ledeneva, Alena. Russia’s Economy of Favours: Blat, Networking and Informal Exchange. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press, 1998.

Von Bremzen, Anya. Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking. New York: Black Swan, 2014.

Von Bremzen, Anya. Please to the Table: Book of Russian Cooking. New York: Workman Publishing, 1990.