Jewish-Style Polish Food, Krakow

We have now returned home from Poland, bringing memories and many photos, material for several follow-up blog posts. I'm starting with my most fascinating food experience, eating at the Ariel restaurant in the former Jewish quarter of Krakow. We traveled to Krakow from Warsaw Saturday morning on a very early train, and returned Saturday night.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqkF_hTKhAhyeAkWk_a3p_Z8Ewj-Qlo0xeAaxbi-IfnRAYNAGiqpWQniSYCJp0YeLNHb0n3Mttck5Xlw09w04CcGBIx7er_q9FzThQZRB9lc5jJxoE1uX6OLPB1XNRj0nNbBzt06vQY4x/s1600/ariel-restaurant7546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqkF_hTKhAhyeAkWk_a3p_Z8Ewj-Qlo0xeAaxbi-IfnRAYNAGiqpWQniSYCJp0YeLNHb0n3Mttck5Xlw09w04CcGBIx7er_q9FzThQZRB9lc5jJxoE1uX6OLPB1XNRj0nNbBzt06vQY4x/s640/ariel-restaurant7546.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhql2-kP9W6KeXUknPeGTsj4d_v4bITeA3rkKnbkiCvkM0GQynVDE_bt6OdZ8oM2-ukUf3_l2y6HcCXNI2tNGV1mZsPziplwpxo_kR7WWSSGm1akh2kGKDUCVG8sQZl7YhqBsjZ5TAtFAvu/s1600/ariel-restaurant4471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhql2-kP9W6KeXUknPeGTsj4d_v4bITeA3rkKnbkiCvkM0GQynVDE_bt6OdZ8oM2-ukUf3_l2y6HcCXNI2tNGV1mZsPziplwpxo_kR7WWSSGm1akh2kGKDUCVG8sQZl7YhqBsjZ5TAtFAvu/s400/ariel-restaurant4471.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beetroot soup with dumplings</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmOWahoJsOWEH4r6zARMH_O09RsYZUcwBzX3yQ6X5C6MavEf22xTXX1xic5Jc4ojA2yrOBxtcnwAclb-UkMocSKo4AdMqtGn7jfx7Rgth9d6kxC1q0_hdSP6nVTsDwxXTiB5tllIhDbr1/s1600/ariel-restaurant7542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmOWahoJsOWEH4r6zARMH_O09RsYZUcwBzX3yQ6X5C6MavEf22xTXX1xic5Jc4ojA2yrOBxtcnwAclb-UkMocSKo4AdMqtGn7jfx7Rgth9d6kxC1q0_hdSP6nVTsDwxXTiB5tllIhDbr1/s400/ariel-restaurant7542.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Len's photo of me taking a photo of Sara's soup</td></tr></tbody></table>The food was all delicious, and we were delighted to have a beautiful sunny day to sit outside. In a neighboring restaurant a band was playing a variety of music to set the mood for eating old-style Polish Jewish food. Of course there are very few Jews left in Krakow, and I think the cooks, servers, and singers are all non-Jews. The music is selected for the American and Israeli tourists, so they play a lot of selections from "Fiddler on the Roof," and old Jazz hits like "Bei Mir Bist Du Shoen."<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQH0NWX8YsheruiXUXlAyKojjdN81Aq4oRYI99kidxNN2bzw8jlLrIEcGYLbFUYy1S36QaFjVnG7FOsjFwoKPlR3TYjkJvRTjt9uQ88eJ4CDTWGpprXXg7Bqr_xdNM5U0g2Iv1GLa00coC/s1600/ariel-neck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQH0NWX8YsheruiXUXlAyKojjdN81Aq4oRYI99kidxNN2bzw8jlLrIEcGYLbFUYy1S36QaFjVnG7FOsjFwoKPlR3TYjkJvRTjt9uQ88eJ4CDTWGpprXXg7Bqr_xdNM5U0g2Iv1GLa00coC/s640/ariel-neck.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goose neck stuffed with liver. Side dish: kugel. <br />I have often read of this dish, a delicacy in prewar Eastern European Jewish cooking.<br />I had never tasted it before, and I loved every delicious bite! </td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Ki8bp6wu_ikKkQhkgPuu56IzwOmdPGl6EHv1-OkRC2tg7zThIKT7CXV-ykVRJwvSAjRA7DaNxTOtC1uPn-CBxgYZK5R2XPdZDbE7rmDWSL3T4jhQy64DfuaU1uGI89Yw8EYKN82K3B_d/s1600/ariel-restaurant4474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Ki8bp6wu_ikKkQhkgPuu56IzwOmdPGl6EHv1-OkRC2tg7zThIKT7CXV-ykVRJwvSAjRA7DaNxTOtC1uPn-CBxgYZK5R2XPdZDbE7rmDWSL3T4jhQy64DfuaU1uGI89Yw8EYKN82K3B_d/s400/ariel-restaurant4474.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were with a group of seven friends who had<br />been at the same conference as Len.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CbMxXRbLgW3ZaR78miWz3N0KCYDS3mSU3rL4p5R7BAVZf0r-BNbPDyfTVH9Ko-7GXRCqfDnsPi6fP2AtOKirDHhSZjQhKt9YCa20bDQMB-gVTfaZWC41cQFGPuae-vSwwuDLKFnZKM_U/s1600/ariel-restaurant4478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CbMxXRbLgW3ZaR78miWz3N0KCYDS3mSU3rL4p5R7BAVZf0r-BNbPDyfTVH9Ko-7GXRCqfDnsPi6fP2AtOKirDHhSZjQhKt9YCa20bDQMB-gVTfaZWC41cQFGPuae-vSwwuDLKFnZKM_U/s400/ariel-restaurant4478.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And we enjoyed both the sunshine and animated conversation.<br />In green shirt: our host Michal.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicybFZ6lltWTl-JzXl-rKGMPcnMtX1vtIix_r2hypvcQUYWMhW78Wrqdgvx_3QrN1pmmRFF-BtrwW8x51oOemA61snGG0secdYj2oznswozL_EoVCdbG57or9EYDvGu0qD8eWNpzm3H_tS/s1600/ariel-dishes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicybFZ6lltWTl-JzXl-rKGMPcnMtX1vtIix_r2hypvcQUYWMhW78Wrqdgvx_3QrN1pmmRFF-BtrwW8x51oOemA61snGG0secdYj2oznswozL_EoVCdbG57or9EYDvGu0qD8eWNpzm3H_tS/s640/ariel-dishes.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Each of us picked a different dish and we shared a few bites all around. Clockwise from upper left:<br />"Jewish" pirogis stuffed with mashed potatoes, chicken livers, duck with potatoes and cranberries,<br /> "Jewish" style roast beef with kugel, more pirogis and kugel, stuffed cabbage.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIVOP1QbcOdpzcx35DsbYCKs3rT8JmkJE5MqTGOtqJCkVMStsTlVAO6X4gs7pFWCxx2MMORINXv1xHs7j0EckF3a0dVS4Aoo3mAptfdabUj2yFLtd1Ip0m8UezSOdRivWUhJld1YIU8Li/s1600/ariel-restaurant4491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIVOP1QbcOdpzcx35DsbYCKs3rT8JmkJE5MqTGOtqJCkVMStsTlVAO6X4gs7pFWCxx2MMORINXv1xHs7j0EckF3a0dVS4Aoo3mAptfdabUj2yFLtd1Ip0m8UezSOdRivWUhJld1YIU8Li/s400/ariel-restaurant4491.jpg" width="358" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the restaurant is also quite beautiful. Here: the courtyard.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />

Jewish-Style Polish Food, Krakow

We have now returned home from Poland, bringing memories and many photos, material for several follow-up blog posts. I'm starting with m...

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Aromas of the day

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOaTS7y4LLt50Xv6RRtiZ66fAsSbulKCpDz9x07_lsPnKBnCfchPEA2cQ7v9QhFiySKkLpM28w1Cbgg4hc1eNjsk0sJ5ghHZrBLJjSmnDmqWICGf6q_9r7lPfWEmZnTMQ6QyiTl17xyEG/s1600/herbs4261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOaTS7y4LLt50Xv6RRtiZ66fAsSbulKCpDz9x07_lsPnKBnCfchPEA2cQ7v9QhFiySKkLpM28w1Cbgg4hc1eNjsk0sJ5ghHZrBLJjSmnDmqWICGf6q_9r7lPfWEmZnTMQ6QyiTl17xyEG/s640/herbs4261.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warsaw Farmers Market: Herbs</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEDNw7xygTqwe-Uq_lAkRVUEbMVkx2KtfhWaySRdMFjlPiRYBNYDeiRVDSmN5Ty04w9jIBnI5TV2ltEfzovObo7eGE7C9MaIcWSU4GyYArJrRYOBodxRnF9QTaVgE1b3AytRbBQPCMqNS/s1600/herbs4305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEDNw7xygTqwe-Uq_lAkRVUEbMVkx2KtfhWaySRdMFjlPiRYBNYDeiRVDSmN5Ty04w9jIBnI5TV2ltEfzovObo7eGE7C9MaIcWSU4GyYArJrRYOBodxRnF9QTaVgE1b3AytRbBQPCMqNS/s640/herbs4305.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dill: the whole farmer's market smelled like dill, and it flavors much of the food we have eaten<span id="goog_1043604986"></span><span id="goog_1043604987"></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3ytc5J-fwWqnJ66Ji31Y7qYcOsx7JpXSY1FLlxqWynYD-oBWGGGXUojcePm9As7lEgnBG7gncpo0tl6HDoLJz62z3Ykck3dCpFXVo_dUA5LpyO5qa2PQYd5tFjfd9zW2cp6d5pJyOiRY/s1600/pickle1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3ytc5J-fwWqnJ66Ji31Y7qYcOsx7JpXSY1FLlxqWynYD-oBWGGGXUojcePm9As7lEgnBG7gncpo0tl6HDoLJz62z3Ykck3dCpFXVo_dUA5LpyO5qa2PQYd5tFjfd9zW2cp6d5pJyOiRY/s400/pickle1.jpg" width="357" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other main smell was dill and garlic from pickles -- just like at the delicatessens of my childhood</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6kLQSg5OgK7QvV_KAGWClUKjivnkyPZtNP7uLJzL5JDPncZppvUVCs-oi2YWonUXpHsNEX_vEVZ_BRrt58f7mTQkcJ6Z4WPuMxlXxuSwWAEBXc_hl_Vb7a_wNNsc3biH_a2avqrDQRl6Z/s1600/pickles2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6kLQSg5OgK7QvV_KAGWClUKjivnkyPZtNP7uLJzL5JDPncZppvUVCs-oi2YWonUXpHsNEX_vEVZ_BRrt58f7mTQkcJ6Z4WPuMxlXxuSwWAEBXc_hl_Vb7a_wNNsc3biH_a2avqrDQRl6Z/s640/pickles2.jpg" width="484" /></a></div><br />

Aromas of the day

Warsaw Farmers Market: Herbs Dill: the whole farmer's market smelled like dill, and it flavors much of the food we have eaten The other ...

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Lunch in Old Warsaw

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSy8MfrpBflZisLovrJKuK2e802WuetvH0Z_LsiTOXU2HFNfiWAbdExqJ4EpfzHQ25StR1l81revoV_j0iVCFb_XCspSZ7cz5bmTDqTY8zSdZKvnTl4tBP6969h7QZkBQkZ7-g0eH4HRP/s1600/soupdumplings4132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSy8MfrpBflZisLovrJKuK2e802WuetvH0Z_LsiTOXU2HFNfiWAbdExqJ4EpfzHQ25StR1l81revoV_j0iVCFb_XCspSZ7cz5bmTDqTY8zSdZKvnTl4tBP6969h7QZkBQkZ7-g0eH4HRP/s640/soupdumplings4132.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Yesterday I walked around Old Warsaw (<a href="http://maetravels.blogspot.com/2013/10/old-warsaw.html">see this</a>) and ate lunch in a very picturesque restaurant. I tried the beetroot soup with "ravioli" -- I would have called them dumplings. Also a salad. Very delicious. I have also eaten pirogies. Last night, Len's small conference hosted dinner at a castle owned by the Polish Academy of Science -- one of the several courses was a broth with dumplings -- so lots of dumplings here. It may be several days before I manage to post photos from that.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumWH-kMp8IK5YbjTehE3Y4kAm9x73iHjs_NaTG2GB-ocSK4pYiFO-7Q3Nnh5KAAsn63KoS6YuOunM2gRi8FRfbZ4WzhwE7MLcd_m6gtk9Lwr7pCzCg5SWdFty-Igbe4ijvFWpt7p5swrC/s1600/soupdumplings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumWH-kMp8IK5YbjTehE3Y4kAm9x73iHjs_NaTG2GB-ocSK4pYiFO-7Q3Nnh5KAAsn63KoS6YuOunM2gRi8FRfbZ4WzhwE7MLcd_m6gtk9Lwr7pCzCg5SWdFty-Igbe4ijvFWpt7p5swrC/s320/soupdumplings.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beetroot soup with "ravioli"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />

Lunch in Old Warsaw

Yesterday I walked around Old Warsaw ( see this ) and ate lunch in a very picturesque restaurant. I tried the beetroot soup with "ravio...

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Appetizing Slide Show

I'm done with my recent little reading project on the history of Latin American and especially Mexican food -- but I loved this slide show on the <i><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2013/10/02/dining/20131002-HUNGRY.html">New York Times: Seeking Tacos in their Purest Form</a>. </i>Doesn't this look good?<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTVQaPytaAnF9N15eEu9pcsDPBnfpg5Hqs_qofHiBz60kvAjTXaV2ZpIpT1m6dgH-QtMSPRP52KkskcrYAWtORSAeCR8ynWIPUuy20UD_k6TBMsVOgy5wFr9GbhzX3hdtz9oH5OZ7KRUU/s1600/tacos-NYT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTVQaPytaAnF9N15eEu9pcsDPBnfpg5Hqs_qofHiBz60kvAjTXaV2ZpIpT1m6dgH-QtMSPRP52KkskcrYAWtORSAeCR8ynWIPUuy20UD_k6TBMsVOgy5wFr9GbhzX3hdtz9oH5OZ7KRUU/s400/tacos-NYT.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the slide show--<br />"Tacos from Reyes Deli: left, the chorizo taco,<br />subtle but with steadily mounting heat; right, the carnitas taco."</td></tr></tbody></table>My own experience eating in little taco places like this is mostly in California, but I can just taste those tortillas and the "mounting heat."

Appetizing Slide Show

I'm done with my recent little reading project on the history of Latin American and especially Mexican food -- but I loved this slide sh...

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Comments

My blogs will no longer accept anonymous comments as I have been receiving many offensive efforts to post spam comments. If you are a friend...

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Cuisine without Food: Addendum

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiytB9Cjgztkvf7o1A_BjiMmRLZ6G9IVKSlTV4GmpXFBTmOQL4VXeXDcGLppGa8Dt9GPKw7cGrmdg5gSC_-orVCj7ZqdwBA-JtIlVvDC5iLUDBYEusd4SodQRpjl2EUc1K5C8arM5nFMSQ/s1600/soviet+tasty+food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiytB9Cjgztkvf7o1A_BjiMmRLZ6G9IVKSlTV4GmpXFBTmOQL4VXeXDcGLppGa8Dt9GPKw7cGrmdg5gSC_-orVCj7ZqdwBA-JtIlVvDC5iLUDBYEusd4SodQRpjl2EUc1K5C8arM5nFMSQ/s640/soviet+tasty+food.jpg" width="436" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Book of Tasty and Healthy Food</i> by Anastas Mikoyan, translation pub. 2012</td></tr></tbody></table>Anya Von Bremzen, in her memoir <i>Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking</i> (<a href="http://regional-food.blogspot.com/2013/09/cuisine-without-food.html">see my post from yesterday</a>) described the Soviet cookbook for good communist homemakers, first published in 1939. Its attributed author, Anastas Mikoyan, was commissar of food of the USSR. Of course the book's directives about how much to eat, what foods were healthy, and how to serve the food (and beverages like vodka, wine, juice which belonged at every meal) were examples of the myth making and wishful thinking of Soviet officials. Von Bremzen also explains  how new editions constantly had to be produced in order to remove references to disgraced and disappeared leaders like Stalin.<br /><br />I was amused to find that this book was translated into English recently -- see <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Book-Tasty-Healthy-Food-ebook/dp/B00957AYR8/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1380467800&sr=1-3&keywords=soviet+cooking">Book of Tasty and Healthy Food</a>.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16aytnMTfGkzxijp9uIucha2nm1jKwaxJMY2BfUpxEXtRhBHdpAqoBrty84fpvOLlqDK1tPS8usrbLCku13Ab4zVsClHtMQpDc7mKj-JoENsFprO-kP8ElPlMAfM9yMUOWcmVc37h9cLF/s1600/soviet-peas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16aytnMTfGkzxijp9uIucha2nm1jKwaxJMY2BfUpxEXtRhBHdpAqoBrty84fpvOLlqDK1tPS8usrbLCku13Ab4zVsClHtMQpDc7mKj-JoENsFprO-kP8ElPlMAfM9yMUOWcmVc37h9cLF/s320/soviet-peas.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soviet peas from <i>Book of Tasty and Healthy Food</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br />

Cuisine without Food: Addendum

Book of Tasty and Healthy Food by Anastas Mikoyan, translation pub. 2012 Anya Von Bremzen, in her memoir Mastering the Art of Soviet Cookin...

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Cuisine without Food

<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0ZHIzhfmHJjhUo091ajylQr7a8-Bz5poy_qYQgv8QypvdIjK8UMSn74nylPUF3GbsvUsnnGbNdAC0gkYqCdFWReCmgIPT1lbCtYOCxG34k5JMyTSu74gg4ffj1lcjJL87ehOEj0TZfNk/s1600/AnyaVonBremzen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0ZHIzhfmHJjhUo091ajylQr7a8-Bz5poy_qYQgv8QypvdIjK8UMSn74nylPUF3GbsvUsnnGbNdAC0gkYqCdFWReCmgIPT1lbCtYOCxG34k5JMyTSu74gg4ffj1lcjJL87ehOEj0TZfNk/s320/AnyaVonBremzen.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I read the Kindle edition,<br />so I never actually <br />saw this dust jacket.</td></tr></tbody></table>In <i>Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking: A Memoir of Food and Longing, </i>Anya Von Bremzen compresses the last 100 years of Russian history into a few representative meals. Tales of eating are punctuated by descriptions of several eras of scarcity and outright famines.<br /><br />Unlike childhood memories in the majority of food memoirs, the most vivid memories of this book were not of tastes that the writer experienced, but rather of dishes from literature and news reports that she and her family only imagined. If their pizza was a miserable piece of bread “smothered in ketchup and gratings of Sovetsky cheese” they imagined the original from their contraband copy of <i>Family Circle</i>. (p. 134)<!--EndFragment--> <br /><br />One huge irony of life for all the decades of Soviet history was how the communist leaders were eating incredible luxury food while the poor starved. The disasters of harvests ruined by foolish policies and the war years were the extremes, but there are many other examples. Soviet candy, for example, came in two identically packaged versions made by the Red October Chocolate Factory. Candy that you bought (sometimes, if you waited in line) in ordinary stores was vastly inferior to the same brands sold in stores for communist <i>nomenklatura</i>. (p. 172)<br /><br />Even the title "Mastering the Art..." of something that wasn't much of an art, but mainly the act of a desperate person, is ironic, riffing on the Julia Child title.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZNJxkis35la4KBw0CzcEIF-jCiaboyA-lePGWYkWtWT-wUL1gUY34jhutL4j62RkiZ5SUWWwDbKvxUPDtoRvB0_xCpRAhzzuyuYXY4V92jJ-9UpyTBMkvnJUZOqdaN3cd4ftTeYUAJO3/s1600/cosco-madeleines.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZNJxkis35la4KBw0CzcEIF-jCiaboyA-lePGWYkWtWT-wUL1gUY34jhutL4j62RkiZ5SUWWwDbKvxUPDtoRvB0_xCpRAhzzuyuYXY4V92jJ-9UpyTBMkvnJUZOqdaN3cd4ftTeYUAJO3/s200/cosco-madeleines.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thinking of my own madeleines from<br />Costco: not Anya's poisoned madeleines,<br />not the cliche of  many other writers,<br />and also not quite like in France.</td></tr></tbody></table>Cliches from food memoirs here take on new twists, made ironic by hunger and longing. Proust’s madeleine memory has been used so often that many writers' references to it hardly use the actual source. Von Bremzen doesn’t bother too much with the original – she calls her own preface “Poisoned Madeleines.” She uses this term to capture the “epic disjunction” and “unruly collision of collectivist myths and antimyths” of her Soviet childhood (from birth in 1963 to emigration in 1974) and the life of her mother who was born in 1934. Through irony the author consistently dodges any sort of self-pity or whining.<o:p></o:p><!--EndFragment--><br /><br />She also refers specifically to rather formula-driven Russian emigre memoirs: "My First Supermarket Experience was the anchoring narrative of the great Soviet epic of immigration to America. Some escapees from our socialist <i>defitsit</i> society actually swooned to the floor (usually in the aisle with toilet paper)." The author relates various amusing first-supermarket experiences of the Russians she knew, wrapping up. "Mom ... roamed Pathmark's acres with childlike glee. 'She-ree-ohs ... Ri-seh-rohnee ... Vel. Vee. Tah ... " She murmured these alien names as if they had been concocted by Proust, lovingly prodding and handling all the foodstuffs in their bright packaging, their promiscuous throwaway <i>tara [i.e. packaging and receptacles, of which there had been a shortage in Russia]</i>."(p. 199)<br /><br />Her discussions of Soviet-era "Provansal" style mayonnaise and the jars (<i>tara</i>) that it came in are priceless: "If, as Dostoyevsky supposedly said, all Russian literature comes out of Gogol's story 'The Overcoat,' then what Gogol's garment was to nineteenth-century Russian culture, the Provansal mayonnaise jar was to the domestic practices of Mature Socialism." (p. 183)<br /><br />Of course she also discusses that other cliche of Soviet mayonnaise memories: Salad Oliver, which can never be understood in America because it features not only mayo but also canned peas. "A precious heirloom of our non-idyllic socialist pasts, the Olivier recipe gets pulled out from the memory drawer to commemorate a particular moment in life." (p. 176)<br /><div class="separator" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: both; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: left; font-family: Times; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: auto; padding: 6px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbYCXLAuL1xwnRXgClTEqX6pW8OrfPiyErrpDWnyYix-mYZSr-d0_e1fbPOZxYWjjcf8qRKu9MxvKhYms4PWQEy_9R_tfI4LpbngGdUv7A_CxaYncuU0eXGUPKuctZ4Viuex3f9-FMZ5v/s1600/malevich-still-life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbYCXLAuL1xwnRXgClTEqX6pW8OrfPiyErrpDWnyYix-mYZSr-d0_e1fbPOZxYWjjcf8qRKu9MxvKhYms4PWQEy_9R_tfI4LpbngGdUv7A_CxaYncuU0eXGUPKuctZ4Viuex3f9-FMZ5v/s320/malevich-still-life.jpg" width="298" /></a> </td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">A still life by Casimir Malevich: Von Bremzen names<br />him as one of the cultural contributors to Soviet Russian<br />life in the 1920s.<br />The author's cultural and social descriptions<br />add to the liveliness of the book.</td></tr></tbody></table>Von Bremzen uses her own memories of food and events as well as her mother’s memories and political opinions along with impressive historical detail characterizing each decade of the past century starting in 1910. She uses the experiences of her relatives, such as her grandfather who was a spy during World War II and her father whose job for many years was as a member of a huge lab responsible for constantly restoring or re-embalming the corpse of Lenin.<br /><br />Because her mother's family were Jewish and her father's family not, the book encompasses both Jewish and non-Jewish Russian experiences -- including some of course ironic (of course) remarks about gefilte fish. In this respect I can also relate the stories to those of several Russian emigre families I have known.<br /><br />I learned an amazing amount of history from reading this book. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that this book made somewhat familiar history come alive for me, by linking to the many personal stories of Anya Von Bremzen's family, her conflicted feeling about Soviet heros like Stalin and Lenin, and her adventures in returning to the disintegrating Soviet Union and its successors several times in the 80s, 90s, and 00s.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMi78cxQ3K9f3sGR69KVUh7EfHef7X0AEmi4mItSFYzUQ8S30OpCTbHbsdPISuufQAfs___Bd2sOisfmVR2g42PRgb0i5VNxZ1VuwnHw2e04iqasK9VA53UfCzw3ZoYdOnGvkIG-CxbP7d/s1600/anya-blini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMi78cxQ3K9f3sGR69KVUh7EfHef7X0AEmi4mItSFYzUQ8S30OpCTbHbsdPISuufQAfs___Bd2sOisfmVR2g42PRgb0i5VNxZ1VuwnHw2e04iqasK9VA53UfCzw3ZoYdOnGvkIG-CxbP7d/s640/anya-blini.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Von Bremzen has had a long career writing cookbooks, magazine articles, and<br />published recipes, such as this one from <i>Food and Wine. </i><br />Her first cookbook, an enormous tome titled<i> Please to the Table, </i>appeared around 20 years ago.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />

Cuisine without Food

I read the Kindle edition, so I never actually saw this dust jacket. In Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking: A Memoir of Food and Longing, A...

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