no recipe

Soviet Kitchen Heirloom

Domovodstvo (Homekeeping) 1959

This post is not going to be filled with pretty pictures, I warn you. It is about the legacy left by the previous times in our family kitchen, particularly at our dacha place, which is a sort of an attic for the forlorn things which await the moment of … well, that long overdue moment of parting with the thing. Let me explain.

Everything made in USSR was made to last. Because USSR itself was supposed (not supposed, but WAS) to last. Planned obsolescence was obviously invented somewhere beyond the USSR. Including the in-flexible footwear that will never ever wear out. And the sturdy household objects from metal or plastic – coming from the assembly line of former (and perhaps simultaneously) military factories. We still have the fridge from God knows when (Mom says it was bought in 1968…), making so much frost and freezing at its lowest so well that we just let it be, who knows for how many more years ahead. Not mentioning all the meat mincing machines which you could make horror films with – and use them as weights as well. Ha, my favourite thing was the old vacuum cleaner called Vikhr (Whirlwind) – and it did sound like a tempest, although the dust remained. Actually what was great about it was that you could sing every time you tried to clean the house with it, oh and how loudly you could do that, better than in a shower! The TV sets – awful, with ridiculously elongated bodies of those on the screen which could only be mended by making them all look like eggs. What else… Sure enough there were such things anywhere in the world back then but no one will deny the existence of something particular to all these Soviet goods.

A year agoSourdough Bread with Dates and Flaxseeds, I remember it was very good!

This is just a selection of kitchen-related things I photographed back in May at our dacha. I will try to tell a short story of every object portrayed.

mutovka

This first thing is actually not Soviet at all, I just wanted to show you one of the traditional Russian kitchen … tools, cause this one will build muscle for sure. This is called mutovka (literally – a mixing thing) and it was made by one of my great-grand-parents from a twig. Other possible materials – horn (don’t ask me how). So it is a predecessor of a mixer and a sort of a hardcore whisk. You can tell it was used much. Same as were and still are these teaspoons 40 kopecks each (probably made at the factory where my grandparents worked). Yep, the price was obligatory indicated on almost anything. So, hard to imagine knowing exactly how much every good costs? Well, people did, actually. There was also this thing in those self-service stores in the USSR when the customer had to remember every single price (especially lovely with things sold by weight) in every department and then tell them all at the cashier’s desk. I wish I could do that, but I just recall I was afraid of going to some stores which had this very (memory-testing) process still running.

spoons

Everything made in USSR was made to…be the same. There are even entire movies based on this fact that people owned and were surrounded by the same things starting from furniture and keys to flats and, well, block of flats – they all looked oh so familiar and… the same. But, seriously, if the prices for the goods in the USSR were artificially kept at the same level for years on end, why bother changing these goods? Mom says if prices ever went up it was discussed everywhere by everyone and it was a shock. So, come back in 10, 20 years and buy your children the same product! No headaches with design, better packaging (here is a curious topic by the way, probably nothing more environment-friendly than the Soviet packaging…) etc etc, how nice eh?

plate bottom

Everything made in USSR was made … in USSR. Or in one of the so-called Soviet-friendly countries like the Eastern Germany. 100% patriotism. The design or whatever might be, well, stolen from somewhere else to create an object but it was made proudly IN the country. The factory stamp you see above is of a Dutch ware factory in Tver (this website places its production between 1946-1950), and the plate itself (with some flower pattern on it) belonged to my Mom’s grandmother. Yes, there are things that you never throw away.

donut maker

Like this one – bought somewhere in the 80s actually this thing is supposed to make pyshki – donuts. Well, I tried… but the batter keeps escaping from the thing and it is then all over the place. But what an idea 😉 The thing is called Pyshechnitsa – and the packaging design is definitely the same as it was with all the previous editions of this apparatus : ) By the way, we still have this Pyshechnaya eating places where you’re served several pyshki on a plate, dusted with sugar and a cup of something hot. Used to be and still remains one of the cheapest options for a snack. Traditionally our variant of donuts are not filled and are normally fried (and probably that’s why I don’t like them, I prefer everything baked, isn’t it much easier in the first place?).

donut maker

For the Soviet cookie dough cutters and the packaging design go here. Below are the aluminum forms to bake ‘nuts’ which are to be filled with walnuts (when mass produced – usually with sweetened condensed milk inside), also from the 80s. I tried to bake madelaines in them – it worked but the shear joy of scraping the dough off these tiny forms, well, I’d rather avoid it. The recipe is quite Soviet – egg yolks, flour, margarine, soda and salt + ground walnuts, sugar and whites for the filling. I remember my Granny used to bake also ‘mushrooms’ – a more complicated process involving baking the stem and the cup and then filling them and sprinkling with nuts… only for the Soviet housewives ready to consecrate so much time and effort for an elaborate sweet treat…

nuts

This rusty object below is related to preserving fruits and vegetables – a commonly used hand jar seamer. They say it was invented by a Russian scientist in 1881, wow. Preserving fruit was and still is a preferred way to liven up a bit the variety of food during the winter – for which purpose you either bought raw fruits and vegetables or grew your own and then dedicated entire weeks for the process. Now it’s more for some delicatessen like canned cucumbers or mixed ‘winter salads’ that a family would venture out to preserve food, but it used to be an almost exclusive option for lots of families during the Soviet era – there were hardly any fresh vegetables around in winter. My grandparents are still so much into preserving that their apartment turns into Ali Baba cave in autumn. And then we get disapproving glances from them as we tend to eat less and less of these things each year.

to seal jars

There are really very fine and sophisticated crockery and cutlery preserved at my grandparents’ place which I remember being not allowed to play with, just looking at them through the cupboard glass (one of the staples in a Soviet house – a huge cupboard to put all your crystal ware well on display). There were the gift sets for special occasions which people gave to each other for the lack of anything else worth giving. But mostly I do associate Soviet crockery and cutlery with something rather bulky and heavy and not very nice. Something from a stolovaya (canteen) with uniform white plates bearing a stamp of Obshchepit on it (public catering). The same applied for the bed linen in the hotels, hospitals or on trains for example, everything stamped.

plate

This plate is supposed to be some kind of a special-occasion tray for fruit probably. We had a whole set in this style. And further are some decorative patterns from Domovodstvo (Home Keeping, 1959), a true book of life. Its battered cover is the first photo of this post. Apparently bought to keep up with the new born baby (my Mom). It’s a comprehensive for those times collection of various tricks, rules, recipes, patterns and other useful information for a housewife of the 50s. A more how-to-feed-your-baby-centered book of the same period is this one.

Domovodstvo (Homekeeping) 1959

I have just one thought which might probably not seem that clearly inferred to you – how different the mindset must have been! And what a tremendous change were the 90s… It’s just that there was this familiar ever-repeating itself secure life and then, pooof, nothing, everything had to be decided, chosen yourself. Take the prices for example – I remember there were those talks in my family and around me back in early 90s that the cheapest something could be bought there and for another thing you should go in the opposite direction – and they did go there. And all this after years and years of knowing EXACTLY the cost of each thing EVERYWHERE (it’s true that the country was separated in ‘zones’ with slightly different prices but within one city / region they were the same).

For more stories and memories related to the Soviet times see this page.

***

waiting for... elektrichka

And finally – elektrichka! Just for a change. These are of course just people impatiently waiting for the commuter train back home at the central station in St Petersburg, but you can spot the train coming there in the background. Imagine the situation in the morning in the direction of the city – I remember having to miss 2 trains in the morning because I just failed to get physically inside. But there are so many things linked to the commuter trains, like having time to revise before exams, to read books, to call aaaaaaaaaaaaall your friends (remember, there’s also the way back!), to talk to the fellow commuters, to play, watch films, listen to all the podcasts at top volume to cover the noise and the ever-present vendors or musicians, and just look outside the window (the view is alright in summer). I know people who met their boyfriends (and possibly spouses) on elektrichka. Such a sociable place!

Coming soon – okroshka, the traditional Russian (and Ukrainian) summer cold ‘soup’ (more like a salad with… kvas).

G.

Italian recipe · pies · sweet · sweet bread

Crostata and Challah, United

When I get older losing my hair (oh no!) many years from now… I will definitely write my memoirs on how I was looking for a job back then (I mean, now), especially the interviews and the places I visited in and about. Sometimes I just think that either I’m mad or it’s just somebody testing my sense of… humour? =P ok, enough about it, I’ve been out of work a little bit too much already, I just need to get it. Meanwhile the spring is very reluctantly moving into our parts and doing it really alarmingly slow. Perhaps spring has been delayed at the customs… Overcast skies, snow at its worst stage (melting and exhibiting all the dirty ‘snowdrops’ as my Mother calls them, meaning all the objects left there during the winter), nude trees combined with the joy from walking on the DRY road (the next joy – especially for a girl – would be to forget all the heavy clothes and boots for at least several months!), listening to the birds and feeling the spring wind on your face. We’re not in a hurry, right?

I’m a bit behind the ‘schedule’ with this post – cause I baked these things already last month. However, they’re non the less recommendable 😉 One is a traditional Italian pastry pie and the other is a variation on the Jewish braided bread. Both contain orange, in some way or another. Let’s start with the pastry pie, an Italian recipe I found after purchasing a jar of orange & elderflower jam in IKEA. There are several recent things Italian that come to my mind – watching The Godfather (finalmente!), going to the Italian film festival (for a Greek movie actually) and compiling a scaletta (=staircase) of 7 compositions, following the law of six degrees of separations, this time for music, for the Italian Rai 3 programme Sei gradi  – yesterday they mentioned a certain Giorgia di San Pietroburgo, wohoo : ), well, though I will hardly ever get a chance to have my choices broadcast on the radio, that was a good exercise in Italian to explain them! Could I not have mentioned this? Weeeeell 😉

IMG_0040

See the cookie cutters? These are very old. 10 different shapes (star, flower, heart, moon, FISH). From this very set of cutters which certainly can still be found in kitchens all around Russia, perhaps without the box which we also threw away oh my almost 4 years ago, when we took this picture. I was performing one of those ‘cleaning’ attempts (or fits of ‘I’m gonna throw all this away!’) before moving to Strasbourg for a year:

box of cutters

How’s the Soviet design (I remember David Ogilvy has some fine specimens of the advertisement in the Soviet-friendly Eastern Europe in his On Advertising book)? The box had ‘Handy and Tasty’ written on one of its sides as well as a recipe of shortbread cookies with 200g of margarine… no, thanks. Let’s better make olive oil pastry for this pie:

Crostata con frolla all’olio extravergine, or Pie with Extravergin Olive Oil Pastry translated, adapted and published with the kind permission of Tamara (Grazie mille ad autore di Pezzo della mia MAREMMA!) will make a thin pie with zesty orange inside – or choose your favourite jam!

IMG_0036

Ingredients:

For the pastry (enough for two regular pies for me):

  • 400g  of flour (originally the fine soft wheat Italian flour ‘farina 00‘)
  • 1/2 envelope of baking powder – I added just a bit of powder + some salt
  • 1 Tbs of orange honey (miele d’arancio)for the lack of which I used just plain honey
  • 100ml of extra vergin olive oil – tssss, I mixed in some sunflower oil too…
  • 2 organic eggs – well, eggs
  • 200g of sugar – I added about a fourth of this amount

A choice of fillings:

  • a jar and a half of orange marmalade (marmellata di arance) – orange & elderflower jam from IKEA works fine + I added orange zest
  • a small jar of strawberry and mint jam
  • a small jar of pears and coffee (wow!)

IMG_0030

Method:

Put all the pastry ingredients in a blender or quickly knead everything by hand (which I did, perhaps just not THAT quickly), make a disk of dough, wrap it in a plastic foil and chill for about 30 min.

Knead again, roll the dough out enough to fill your pans / pan, which you should butter and flour. The author suggests trying all the possible variants here, whatever you find best. I used my springform pan, leaving some dough not only for some shapes for the decoration but also an entire second pie, actually! For the second pie I used black currant jam (and it reminded me of another traditional crostata, Crostata di Marmellata, that I tried last summer).

Place the rolled out dough in the pan (I made borders too), pour your marmalade over. If you choose to decorate the top with some extra dough shapes, do it 😉 Bake at 180 ‘C for 35/40 minutes – and be careful, the pastry gets browned very fast. Mine took less than 30 minutes, and when it was out of the oven, I brushed the pastry with extra orange jam.

Result: Extra orange zest was good! And the dough was just very good. What more to say, an Italian pie with oranges!

marmellata di arance

Not these oranges, though. Cause this amazing jam was finished very quickly and I had just enough time to snap some photos of it… We brought a jar of this jam over from Veneto, Italy, from the warm and welcoming house of Caterina’s family, along with lots of other really tasty things. And yes, it’s a home-made jam from juicy oranges, not over sweet and with bits of zest inside, mmmmm… And YES, I’m going to post the recipe, since Caterina gave it to me… Hope the giving away of the family secret will bring only satisfaction to those who’ll try it (I haven’t yet). Wanna get this?

marmellata di arance

…then do the following:

La marmellata di arance or the family recipe for the orange jam from Caterina’s Mother, whose original recipe contained just 11 words

Hey, let’s learn some Italian, hm? It’s easy! So…

1 – Pelare le arance togliendo solo la parte arancione della buccia e tenerla da parte – Peel the oranges, cutting only the orange part (zest) of the rind and reserving it (not that difficult, right? pelare – peel, parte – part, and solo – sure you know it already!)

2 – Rimuovere la parte bianca della buccia e buttarla via – Remove (easy, eh?) the white part of the rind and throw it away (via! via!)

3 – Far bollire la polpa e la buccia – Boil the flesh and the reserved zest

4 – Macinare/frullare – Grind or mince using a mixer

5 – Mettere il 50% del peso delle arance in zucchero – Add sugar (50% of the weight of the oranges)

6 – Cucinare 🙂 – Cook!

So the original ricetta was this:  ‘arance e zucchero, lasciare bollire, assaggiare per vedere se è buona‘. Love that =) (‘oranges and sugar, boil, check to see if it’s ok’)

If you try the recipe, please let me know! But I’m sure that with fine oranges and lots of fine movements from you part you will end with this soft and thick jam:

marmellata di arance

And now, reunited with the previous pie recipe, here’s a leavened dough sweet bread – also with orange zest. The recipe will yield two braids and if you’re not going to eat them both on the spot (which you might as well do…), you can freeze the other braid and without any re-heating in the oven it will just come to the room temperature all right! Or cut the recipe in half, but… better make the second braid too, just in case 😉

Chocolate Chunk Challah

Chocolate Chunk Challah adapted from www.6bittersweets.com will make two braids, soft, chocolaty and zesty.

The recipe might look very long and complicated but actually it is not. My changes to it were not critical, just adding some orange zest (following the example of a very successful addition to the Cranberry Upside Down Cake) and ginger for the flavour, cutting down on salt and oil and opting for my favourite bitter kind of chocolate with a higher cocoa content. Instead of sesame seeds I sprinkled some coarse sugar on the top. This sugar:

Chocolate Chunk Challah

{how different the colours are with the sunlight!}

The thing that you should be careful with in this bread is letting it bake through which I didn’t at first, judging by its brownish colour that it was already done. Anyway we ate it all and curiously enough the second braid which I froze for a day (haha, you thought a month? no) had no apparent problem with being underbaked! In this photo there’s this very ‘frozen’ braid:

Chocolate Chunk Challah

Obviously my parents ate the bread with jam, sweet for me is never too sweet for them. I prefer eating almost everything with prostokvasha these days (sort of natural yogurt, look here for the explanation), which does not add sugar but extra moisture I guess. Or it’s just merely one of those things, you know. Love the chunks of chocolate and the sunny zest inside:

Chocolate Chunk Challah

The result: a nice sweet bread, the dough is not dry as it happens with sweet leavened bread sometimes, and the chocolate is pleasingly… chocolate!

Thanks to all the contributors to this post (Redenta & Caterina, Tamara, grazie!), including the eaters, of course.

More recipes are pushing their way up to their fame and fortune, just wait a bit. I’ve also been checking where the visitors to my blog come from, especially the links and how to improve the situation, so to say (you might have received a notification of a new post which was just claiming mu blog at Bloglovin’ s). Thus, I tracked one of my Russian salad recipes (Herring Under a Fur Coat) on this blog about Russia and the ex-USSR countries called The Mendeleyev Journal, as well as being linked to its Culinary/Food section (Thanks!).

And wish me luck (as always!).

G.