Equally fascinating is her account of the significance of mundane objects, such as avosca, a portable container that Russians took along shopping in order to transport home food items like fish or meat because shortage in wrapping paper didn’t allow for such goods to be properly packaged (p. Thus, Russians didn’t say kupit (to buy) but rather dostat (to obtain with difficulty), when referring to goods purchased at the store after the customary long wait in line (p. I delighted in von Bremzen’s explanation of how nuances in word choice disclosed information about the specifics of Soviet life. The book begins in Tsarist Russia, covers the Revolution, the Two World Wars of the last century, Stalin’s purges, Khrushchev’s Thaw, Gorbachev’s Perestroika, and ends with von Bremzen’s visit to Putin’s Moscow. There are many fine moments in von Bremzen’s gripping account of how social and cultural politics shaped the experience of food in the Soviet era, in general, and the history of her Jewish family, in particular. (For Wheeler’s review in The New York Times see here). I agree with Sara Wheeler that von Bremzen has raised the foodoir, a genre mixing food writing with autobiography, to a higher level. Does this sound like an indulgence? Well, it really is the best possible kind I could think of.Īnya von Bremzen’s Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking is a groundbreaking book.
Or running into a friend whom I hadn’t seen for ages and quickly recognizing how much I enjoyed their presence, cancelling my mid-afternoon obligations in the blink of an eye, and sitting down for an engrossing conversation over a delicious cup of tea and freshly baked Italian plum cake.
It was like meeting someone new and immediately clicking with that person, wanting to find out everything about him or her, and being in awe with every single detail. Over the week-end, I couldn’t put Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking down until I flipped its very last page. With my curiosity piqued by a piece of reading advice from a person who doesn’t easily yield to the pleasure of spending long hours with books, I rushed to the library and checked out von Bremzen’s book. A friend of hers, who was not really a reader, raved about the book, and my neighbor was pleased to confirm that the tip was right on. On a walk in the woods, my dear, thoughtful neighbor recommended Anya von Bremzen’s Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking.
Image courtesy of John McNickname on Flickr
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