Seasons

Georgia inspire beetloaves*.

Georgian cuisine in Soviet Union was always viewed as something like French cooking in Western Europe. Or perhaps more like Tuskan leaning Italian actually. Sophisticated, exquisite, generous. Both hugely desired and, well, envied. I find it quite curious that these

Seasons

Okroshka, as Russian food in summer should be.

Soups to Russians is like a good Sunday roast to Brits – part of our cultural dna. We wither away without a daily helping of a soup of some kind.  Mothers tell their offspring that without a soup they won’t

Seasons

Woosy faces, food gratis and gooseberry dressing.

Until the age of 10 I lived in what many dreamily how recall as the Soviet courtyard. I have most vivid recollections of lazit za kryzhovnikom – sort of climbing into and around gooseberry bushes, lazily picking them up, plonking them into my mouth, chatting to girlfriends.

Seasons

‘The-quickest-ever-yes-really-pickled-cucumbers’

Solenya is a Russian word for any salted (sol is salt of course) vegetables. the English ‘pickles’ doesn’t quite convey the same breadth of meaning. The sheer variety of uses and processes that Slavs endue their salted staff. In Slavic

Seasons

The Nutcracker: fairytale dinner.

‘I am Krakatuk, You found me in a nook To break the Mouse Queen’s hex Walk backwards eyes closed seven steps!’ And off they went, the glamour of bulbous skirts and masks forgotten, the forty guests in search of the

Seasons

The battle of broths and borsch.

Blood-coloured, thick borsch is what russki soul is all about. It is one of our most successful global brand acquisitions (well, with the other two), it’s what we suck in with our mother’s milk. Borsch is both the most comforting

Seasons

Deer, blood, chocolate and Kagor in a stew.

Stews are never sexy food, they say. Warming and hearty is rarely what we hanker after when in search of more exquisite pleasures, be it food or well, else. But add in muscular and less than expected flavours, and you

Seasons

Meet the OTHER Russians – biotiful white stuff.

‘I’m happy here.People smile. I’m just missing the black bread and ‘sour’ dairy products’ – is what you hear, inevitably, from russkis when they first arrive in Britain. Dark, moist, rye bread like this Borodinsky bread and the myriad varieties

Seasons

The nostalgic soup of ‘coloured cabbage’

‘Coloured cabbage’ – Cauliflower in Russian – was amongst the first few ‘foreign’ ingredients that reached the just-post-Soviet Estonia in the early 1990s. I was about 11 and just started to do things in the kitchen, cooking I suppose one

Seasons

The spring salad of pale greens and pinks

A search for more charming, appreciatively lighter ways of dealing of spuds is a constant theme in my life. The lovely Daily Spud would agree, I’m sure. Yesterday was the first spring day in England. Officially. I came out of