Russia:

The Russians hated potatoes. In ways directly opposed to the Irish perspective, deeply conservative Russian serfs refused to adopt potatoes into their diet until the 19th century. But once they did, Russia became the number one consumer of potatoes in the world. The Russian story is more about resistance than quick adoption. Tsars used a variety of coercive measures to make the serfs grow potatoes as food in case of famine, but many peasants starved rather than waver from the food of their ancestors. However, once potatoes became an acceptable food the Russians brought potato cuisine to new hieghts. Russian potato cooking is much more varied than Irish cooking. It includes more ingredients prepared with more methods. Russian potatoes are boiled, mashed, or made into soup like Irish potatoes, but also baked, fried, stuffed, used as stuffing, made into salad, poured into pies, grated for pie crust, or distilled into liquor. The relationship between Russians and potatoes says much about how they relate to their food, as well as how serfs and lords struggled against each other for centuries.

The first place to look at the difference between lord and serf is what they ate for dinner.

Nobleman’s Fast [not feast!] Day Menu, 1656

(from Please to the Table)

Cabbage with sturgeon

Caviar with onions

Caviar, salted and pressed

Fried spine of sturgeon

Steamed herring

Smoked salmon with lemon

Steamed pike sterlet

Steamed bream

Boiled backs of whitefish

Fried carp

Ukha of pike

Pirog with fish and sauerkraut

Kulebiaka with beans

(and many more!)

Peasant’s Everyday Menu

(adapted from The Complete Russian Cookbook)

Cabbage soup with lard

Milk

Kasha with peas

The differences between the two menus is obvious at first glance. The noble’s menu contains large amounts of fish and meat, nearly every dish is some variant of a fish dish. The nobles needed a huge staff of cooks and other servants to lay out these extravagant meals. Such feasts required incredible wealth and abundant resources. In contrast, the serf’s menu is incredibly simple. In Russian, kasha refers to a porridge made from buckwheat groats or barley. Peasants cooked their meals in primitive kitchens with primitive tools. The huge differences between nobles and serfs was also manifested in geographic separation. The nobles loved the cosmopolitan life of the city while the serfs congregated in small villages scattered throughout rural areas. The nobles took pride in their refinement, while the serfs lived a rough life of hard manual labor.

The geographic, mental, emotional and economic distance between lord and serf led to a difficult and rocky relationship. The gap between lord and serf began spreading in the 12th century (Blum, 1961). At that time, feuding princes began handing out land to nobles as a sign of their favor. The peasants who had previously owned the land became renters, emotionally, if not physically, separating them from the land they worked. Lords hired serfs as hands on the farm, making the serfs economically dependent. The process escalated over time. In the 1580’s tsars came into power and began eroding the freedom of the peasants, and tied the serfs to the whims and schemes of their seigniors. Serfs could be shuttled around at the will of the elites. For instance, Peter the Great wanted aristocrats and noble families to serve the state as soldiers and civil servants, but the state coffers were running low and he couldn’t pay them. Instead he granted them land and serfs. Although this was theoretically good payment, as a noble could make money with the labor of the serfs on the land, the reality was that landlords like this often neglected the farms because they preferred city life to their country estates. They failed to invest any time or make improvements on the land. Most serfs were poverty-stricken, restless, and perpetually on the move. The majority of Russians lived in the rural areas, and even today Russia remains one of the least urbanized countries in Europe. The serfs considered themselves children of the tsar and violently rebelled at each new injustice. These rebellions were always quickly squashed, for Peter the Great declared himself an "enlightened despot;" a ruler sometimes harsh, but who always knew what was best for his subjects (Oliva, 1969). Other tsars followed his lead. This attitude relates directly to the way potatoes were finally grown in Russia.

Since Russian serfs could be moved or reassigned by their lords at any time, they usually didn’t take the initiative to make improvements in their lands or agricultural technique (Blum, 1961). If their lord suddenly decided he wanted to mill flour or mine for iron instead of grow grain, a whole village of people would go to work in a factory or move to the mountains. As a result, those involved with agriculture didn’t have much motivation for improving or investing in the land or new equipment since all that effort could be useless by the next week. Farming methods remained primitive, like small plows drawn by small horses through tough black earth. Fertilizer was practically unknown. Low morale and low productivity plagued Russian country life, even though the black earth areas of southern Russia harbor some of the most fertile soil in the world. Perhaps because their lives were so tumultuous and subject to sudden changes, Russian serfs stubbornly clung to their traditional crops.

Peasants grew wheat, rye, and other grains as staples. In good years observers declared that the Ukrainian wheat harvest could feed all of Europe (Braudel, 1982). In bad years it couldn’t even feed the people who grew it, and grain had to be imported from other areas at great cost. Peasants worked the fields in cycles: a grain year, a grazing year and a fallow year. So one-third of the fields lay uncultivated and unutilized at a time. Peasants also grew apples, peas, beans, lentils, cucumbers, and cabbages. Many of these crops could be dried, like beans and lentils, or pickled and preserved, like cucumbers and cabbages as pickles and sauerkraut, for consumption during the long winter. They also ate quite a lot of dairy, especially preserved products like sour cream, meat when they could get it, and fish if they were close to a river or sea (Blum, 1961).

Many tsars recognized potatoes as a superior food that could feed more people, make up for poor years in grain production, and allow more people to do industrial tasks, making the nation richer and more urbanized as a whole. They could grow potatoes in the fallow fields, since potatoes made different demands on the soil than grains. Since Russian rulers believed they knew exactly what was best for their people, tsars tried several ways to encourage their peasants to grow potatoes, some mild, some harsh. Catherine the Great imported several new plants and agricultural machines in an effort to improve agriculture. She also reformed laws around the institution of serfdom. Under her rule, serfs could receive an education and get legal recourse for cruelty. She wanted to emancipate the serfs, but the time wasn’t right andshe was sometimes nervous about her position with the serf-owning nobles, so she had to settle for improving the material conditions of their oppression (Cronin, 1978). Serfs did not gain emancipation until 1861, after they had adopted potatoes as a staple food through the coercion of Tsar Alexander in the 1840s. But even after the serfs were legally emancipated, loopholes in the law kept them poor and oppressed for decades more.

As part of one of these grand schemes to improve life for the Russians, Catherine invited thousands of Germans to immigrate to Russia in the 1770’s, bringing their whole way of life with them, including potatoes. After a series of wars, in which grain crops were trampled or stolen by enemy forces, German soldiers had developed a taste for potatoes and began growing them at home and soon they became a staple. This German hot potato salad uses ingredients common in both Germany and Russia.

German Hot Potato Salad

(adapted from One Potato, Two Potato)

[A spicy potato salad that doesn’t taste like mayonnaise! But it really does need bacon.]

6 medium potatoes

4 bacon strips, minced

1/4 cup chopped onion

1/4 cup chopped celery

1 large dill pickle, chopped

1/4 cup chicken stock or water

1/2 cup vinegar

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon paprika

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon salt

1. Boil the potatoes in their skins until tender, about half an hour, then steam them a little in their own steam under a towel for 10 minutes. Peel and slice into 1/4 inch slices while hot.

2. Heat a skillet and add bacon. When it begins to give off juice, add onion, celery, and pickle and sauté until brown.

3. Mix liquids and spices in a saucepan. Boil, then quickly remove from heat. Mix with bacon, onion, and celery. Mix with potatoes in a large bowl. Serve hot.

Catherine the Great had wanted to industrialize the country but found that in such a geographically large nation with such a scattered and sparse population, gathering labor for an industrial venture was quite an ordeal. To remedy this she advertised for skilled labor in Germany, offering special tax breaks and bonuses for new immigrants, depending on their skill level. However, the Russians didn’t pick up the potato habit from the Germans as Catherine had hoped. It was up to later tsars to coerce Russian serfs to accept potatoes. This is why I present this recipe in isolation; because contrary to the clever plans of Catherine the Great, the German immigrants did not mix with the Russian population at all (Blum, 1961). Groups of German immigrants built isolated villages almost exactly like the ones they had left. In 1843 a visitor remarked that the layout, style and food of the village, "and above everything else the potatoes, all is German." (Blum, 1961; 334).

Tsars after Catherine resorted to more and more desperate practices to induce the peasants to try this new, strange crop and finally succeeded mid-century. The nobles began advocating for potatoes in earnest after the grain failures of 1839 and 1840. In the village of Kahl, for instance, taxes and laws worked to reduce bread consumption and encourage potato eating (Weatherford, 1993). New houses could not be built with ovens. Instead, the villagers used a communal oven and were taxed for each tray of baked goods. The authorities also taxed mills, bakers, and existing ovens. With limited access to ovens, peasants couldn’t eat as much bread and turned to potatoes for a starchy, filling food. The Agricultural Ministry under Tsar Alexander combined compulsion and encouragement (Blum, 1961). It ordered potatoes planted with seeds provided by the state and published manuals about how to grow them. It offered medals and cash rewards for the highest yields. By 1843 the prizes had made their impact and even the peasants on private land sowed lots of potatoes. Consumption increased rapidly in the next two decades. In only thirteen years Russians increased potato production nearly 6 times. The serfs finally conquered their aversion to the plant, which the church had formerly called the devil’s plant and declared a sin to eat, when they realized it’s usefulness during famines and wars. In the Ural mountains, potato production could fit in with grain production by growing tubers in the fallow fields, thus using the land more effectively and thereby increasing total production (Viola & Marlois, 1991). Planting potatoes in this way meant more work, but it paid off with a bigger food supply that could support a larger population. The Baltic and Ukrainian regions of Russia adopted potatoes most easily and many Russian potato dishes come from these areas.

* * * * *

There’s a lot to be learned by what’s not in Russian cookbooks. Remember that Marie Smyth’s mother taught her all about the plants growing in the hedges of the country that she could use for food and Irish Traditional Food includes numerous recipes for stop-gap foods like sorrel and nettle soup. The Irish include starvation foods as part of their cultural heritage. They take a certain secret pride in knowing how to survive when the crops fail. But the Russians have produced a totally different reaction to years of starvation. They do not print starvation recipes as part of their national cuisine. Instead, they surround themselves with food in times of plenty, cooking and serving so much food that no one could possibly eat it all. Lynn Visson, author of The Complete Russian Cookbook speculates that perhaps this excessive preoccupation with food comes out of all the wars and accompanying famines and years of starvation that the Russian people have survived. "The scars such hunger leaves create cravings which can be assuaged only by the assurance that food is not merely attainable, but available in quantities such that no human being no matter how gargantuan his appetite, could ever finish all that is set before him." (Visson, 1982, 13) I suspect it also has something to do with the intervening years of plenty. During this time the people could forget about starvation and pretend nothing could ever go wrong. When there is enough food, Russians strive to make it the best and debate passionately for hours about the best way to make certain national specialties like cakes or dumplings. Saying someone has gained weight is a great compliment. They say "you may forget father and mother, but you’ll not forget to eat" (proverb quoted by Visson, 1982, 11).

So to make a real Russian meal in times of plenty, pull out all the stops and make at least six or seven of these dishes, plus others from your favorite Russian cookbook. Include the tiny little appetizers they call zakuski, heaps and heaps of main dishes, side dishes that could make an entire normal meal, and at least three cakes for dessert. You’ll find an amazing variety of ways to prepare potatoes in this section--fried, baked, boiled and more--but all with a distinctly Russian theme. They include lots of dairy, especially sour cream, butter, and cheese. Like in the noble’s menu at the start of the chapter, many of these dishes feature fish. But the more expensive aspects of Russian fish like caviar have been cut from this selection. The recipes are all rich and flavorful, but not spicy.

Potato Soufflé

(from The Complete Russian Cookbook)

3 cups mashed, cooked potatoes [peel ‘em, make ‘em smooth]

3 Tbsp. butter

1 cup sour cream

2 Tbsp. sugar

4 eggs, separated

Mix all ingredients except eggs. Heat gently, but do not boil. Add egg yolks, and beat. Remove from heat. Whip egg whites until stiff and fold in. Bake in well greased baking dish at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes until puffed and browned.

Baked Potatoes with Herring or Sardines

(from The Complete Russian Cookbook)

6 large potatoes

1/2 onion, chopped

1 Tbsp. butter

1 large herring fillet or 4 sardines, chopped

1 egg

Pepper

1 cup sour cream

Bake potatoes until well done but still firm [about 40-45 minutes at 400 degrees]. Carefully cut slice off top of each and remove pulp. Fry onion lightly in butter. Mix onion and herring or sardines with potato pulp. Add egg, pepper, and 1/2 cup sour cream, and taste for seasoning. Pack mixture back into shells, and cover each with some of remaining sour cream. Bake in 375 degree oven for 15 minutes.

Potatoes with Herring and Onion

(from The Complete Russian Cookbook)

6 potatoes

3 fillets Matjes herring

4 Tbsp vegetable oil

1 small onion, finely chopped

pinch pepper

2 Tbsp. fresh bread crumbs

2 Tbsp. melted butter

1 Tbsp. chopped parsley

Boil potatoes, unpeeled, for about 20 minutes. Drain, peel, and cut into cubes. Chop herring finely. Fry onion in 1 Tbsp. oil and combine with herring. Add potatoes, pepper and more oil and fry for about 5-8 minutes, until potatoes are crisp. Transfer to a buttered casserole; top with bread crumbs and melted butter, and bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees until top is browned. Sprinkle with parsley.

Paprika Fries (Zharennaya Kartoshka s Paprikoy)

(from Please to the Table)

The author’s mother says she could eat them three times a day. So could I. Every day of the week!

6 medium-sized baking potatoes, scrubbed and patted dry

1/4 cup light vegetable oil

1 1/2 teaspoons sweet Hungarian paprika, plus additional for garnish

salt, to taste

1. Cut the potatoes in half lengthwise and cut each half into 4 wedges.

2. In a large, heavy skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the potatoes and cook, stirring frequently until the potatoes are well-colored and soft, about 25 minutes.

3. Sprinkle on the paprika and salt and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes more. Serve at once, sprinkled with additional paprika.

Autumn in the Russian countryside means wild mushroom picking. Like with the Irish, wild foods probably provided an important supplement in times of famine, but they enjoy them in times of plenty too. Country people pick many baskets in an afternoon, then bring them home to cook with potatoes, onions, and a bit of sour cream.

Potatoes with Wild Mushrooms (Zharennaya Kartoshka s Gribami)

(from Please to the Table)

Wonderfully rich, the potatoes and mushrooms make excellent complementary flavors. I’d advise cutting down on the oil for frying the potatoes and using a higher heat so they turn out crispier, not soggy.

3/4 pound fresh wild mushrooms (such as chanterelles or small boletes)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil

4 medium-sized boiling potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/2 x 1/4-inch sticks

salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1 cup finely chopped onions 3 tablespoons sour cream

1. Wipe the mushrooms with a damp cloth. Separate the stems from the caps. (The small chanterelles can be left whole.) Cut the stems in half crosswise. Cut the smaller caps in half and the larger ones in quarters.

2. Melt the butter in a medium-size skillet over medium heat. Add the mushrooms and cook, tossing and stirring, until they throw off and reabsorb their liquid, about 12 minutes. Set aside. Wipe out the skillet.

3. Heat 3 tablespoons of the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the potatoes and cook over medium heat for about 5 minutes. Scrape under the bottom layer with a wooden spoon and stir so that the cooked potatoes are on top. Cook the potatoes in this fashion until they are cooked through and deep golden, about 20 minutes. They might stick to the bottom of the skillet a little, so keep scraping them off. Season with salt and pepper.

4. While the potatoes are cooking, heat the remaining oil in another skillet. Add the onions and sauté over medium heat until deeply colored, about 15 minutes.

5. Stir the mushrooms, onions, and sour cream into the potatoes, and toss everything together well. Cook over low heat until the sour cream is heated through, 2 minutes. Serve at once.

Baked potatoes with Mushrooms

(from The Complete Russian Cookbook)

[During the grand potato feast, these won out over the baked potatoes with sardines for tastiness.]

6 Idaho potatoes

1/4 lb. mushrooms, chopped

1/4 lb. butter

1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 tsp. lemon juice

1/2-1 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. pepper

3 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese

Bake potatoes in skins until well done but still firm [about 1 hour at 400 degrees]. Cut thin slice off top of each potato, carefully scoop out pulp, and reserve. Fry mushrooms in 2 Tbsp. butter until soft. Add 1/4 cup sour cream, and simmer 2-3 minutes. Add to potato pulp. Stir in lemon juice, salt and pepper, and blend well. Gradually add the remaining sour cream, and 2 more Tbsp. butter. Pack mixture back into potato shells; dot with remaining butter and sprinkle with grated cheese. Bake 10-15 minutes in 325 degree oven until potatoes are hot and cheese is melted.

Garlic Mashed Potatoes (Kartofelnoye Pyure s Chesnokom)

(from Please to the Table)

[The cookbook said this made four servings, but these are so yummy it only took two of us to devour the whole thing in record time! This is a very popular recipe in Russia and everyone has their own version. Anya and John called it the best one they tasted, and they sampled a lot.]

2 pounds Idaho potatoes, peeled and quartered

salt, to taste

7 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces, at room temperature

1/2 cup sour cream

3 large cloves garlic, finely minced

1. Cook the potatoes in plenty of salted boiling water until tender, about 25 minutes. Drain thoroughly.

2. Mash the potatoes, using a potato ricer or a vegetable mill.

3. Stir in 5 tablespoons of the butter, the sour cream, and garlic. Season to taste with salt and beat the potatoes until fluffy. Let stand for 1 hour.

4. Preheat oven to 350*F.

5. Transfer the mashed potatoes to a buttered, round, ovenproof casserole, dot with the remaining 2 tablespoons butter, and bake until heated through and the top is golden, about 15 minutes.

Potato Pancakes (Deruni)

(from Please to the Table)

[This recipe contains the amazing secret to well-done potato pancakes--squeezing the water out through a non-terry cloth towel. Though I learned at Chanakuh this year that you can soak the grated potatoes in water with lemon athem squeeze them with your hands and transfer them to the batter. I could never make them right before finding this recipe and now they turn out great every time. It’s possible to save the batter for another day. It becomes discolored quickly, but the color does not significantly affect the flavor.]

2 pounds new potatoes, peeled

1 medium-size onion, grated

1 small carrot, peeled and grated

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1/4 cup milk

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

light vegetable oil for frying

1. Grate the potatoes coarsely by hand or in a food processor using a coarse grating blade. [The authors were amazed that women in Byelorussia and the Ukraine make potato pancakes for nearly every meal without the aid of a food processor.] Squeeze the mixture in a clean linen or cotton (not terry cloth) kitchen towel to remove any excess moisture. Let the mixture stand for 5 minutes and squeeze again. Rinse the potatoes in several changes of cold water. Drain and squeeze again to remove as much moisture as possible

2. In a bowl, combine the potatoes with the onion and carrot and stir well with a fork. Sprinkle on the flour and mix in. Add the milk, egg, baking powder, and salt and pepper, and mix thoroughly.

3. Heat about 1/2 inch of oil in a large heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Drop the potato mixture by tablespoonfuls into the oil and press gently with a spatula to flatten. Fry until golden brown on both sides. Transfer to drain on paper towels (if necessary, keep the fried Deruni warm in a 200*F oven). Repeat the process with the remaining potato mixture. Serve at once.

Ukrainian Filled Dumplings (Vareniki)

(From Please to the Table)

[The authors describe vareniki as a national obsession with the Ukrainians. And for good reason. This recipe is incredibly labor intensive, but so, so worth it. It took about three hours to make a half-batch of these, a full batch might take another hour. Make a lot at once one rainy afternoon, then freeze some raw vareniki for boiling later.]

Potato Filling:

6 tablespoons 3/4 stick unsalted butter

1 medium-size onion, finely chopped

3 large boiling potatoes, peeled, boiled, and mashed

1/4 pound farmer’s cheese

2 ounces colby or other mild Cheddar cheese, grated

salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1. Melt the butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté, stirring occasionally, until nicely browned, about 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool slightly.

2. In a large bowl, combine the potatoes and cheese. Add the sautéed onion along with the cooking fat and mix well. Season with salt and pepper, then use to fill the vareniki.

Noodle dough and filling instructions:

2 cups unbleached flour

salt

2 large egg yolks

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

7 to 8 tablespoons water

1 large egg whites, lightly beaten

1 recipe potato filling

1. In a food processor, blend the flour and 1/2 teaspoon salt. With the motor running, add the egg yolks and the oil through the feed tube, then pour in the water, in a slow steady stream, until the dough forms a ball around the blade. [Or use your hands to rub in the yolks and oil. Knead in the water with your hands until it forms a stiff but workable noodle dough.] Transfer the dough to a floured surface and knead until smooth, about 2 minutes. Cover with a linen or cotton (not terry cloth) kitchen towel and let stand for 30 minutes.

2. Divide the dough in half and shape into two balls. Keep one ball covered with the towel. On a floured surface with a floured rolling pin, roll out the dough to a very thin sheet, about 1/16 inch thick, making sure it doesn’t tear. [Important to make it thin, or you will not have enough dough for all the filling, like me the first time.] With a round cookie cutter [or stolen glass from The Greenery], cut out circles about 3 inches in diameter. Gather the scraps together into a ball and set aside, covered.

3. Have a bowl with the egg white by you. Place a heaping teaspoon of the filling in the middle of each circle. Fold the dough over the filling to form a semi-circle. Brush the edges with the egg white and press the edges firmly together with the tines of a fork to seal. [It’s important to seal it well or the vareniki will break open in the boiling water, making very good stock, but not very good dumplings.] Place the vareniki as they are made on a lightly floured large baking sheet about 1 inch apart and keep covered with a damp cloth. When you have finished making this batch of vareniki, roll out the second ball of dough and make a second batch. Add the leftover scraps of dough to the scraps left from the first batch, knead into a ball, and roll out for a final batch of vareniki.

4. Meanwhile, in a large pot, bring 6 quarts of salted water to a boil (or divide the water between two pots).

5. Reduce the heat to medium so the water simmers and carefully lower half the vareniki into the water. Boil, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon to prevent sticking, until they rise to the surface, and are cooked through, 6 to 7 minutes. With a slotted spoon, carefully remove the vareniki to a colander and drain thoroughly. Transfer to a deep serving bowl and toss with half the butter.

6. Cook the rest of the vareniki in the same way.

In the beginning, Russian potatoes tell a story of resistance, of people rebelling against those in power through their own food supply. But then they tell a very tasty story of expansion: expanding culinary preparations for the potato in kitchens of the Ukraine and the Baltic, an expanding population, and expanding industrial power. In fanciful dreams I like to think that the potato led to the USSR’s status as a superpower, as though through their huge consumption of potatoes the power of the tuber to determine world history became part of the body of the Russian people. In real life, all I can say for certain is that the adoption of the potato preceded the emancipation of serfs in 1861, the expansion of Russia’s population in the second half of the 19th century, the Russian Revolution in 1917, the growth of Russia to a world power, and the Cold War of the 1950s. It’s more of a congruence than a cause, but the potato in combination and the ways potatoes speak as a metaphor for power growing a people more earthy and robust than any other on Earth by adding nutritious calories to the Russian diet, expanding the population, enabling industrialization. The potato in Russia resulted in a more balanced diet. They used it as a supplement to grains and other vegetables, rather than an exclusive food source. In many ways, Russia represents the potato’s greatest success. Loved by all, and deliciously prepared, but not abused.

The word vodka is derived from the Russian word for water, voda. It’s a highly neutral liquor made from a mash, fermented and then distilled so that the liquid has almost no flavor but a high alcohol content, usually 80 or 90 proof in Poland and Russia, and stronger in the US (The New Encyclopedia Britannica, 1997). Since the mash has hardly any effect on the final taste of the liquor, people make it from the cheapest and most readily available materials. In Russia, that’s potatoes. (In the US vodka is often made from wheat or corn.) They buy it by the liter and drink it by the gram, often in tiny chilled shot glasses, never with ice or tonic. They also never drink alone and always have a bite of food ready, like salty fish or dense black bread. Lots of times vodka accompanies the first course of a meal, zakuski, consisting of many small appetizers (well, small by Russian standards, many Americans would consider this course a meal in itself). Other times they drink it later in the evening while sharing intimate stories and plans. Anya von Bremzen and John Welchman describe how to properly drink vodka as a sacred ritual of everyday life in Please to the Table.

A Shot of Vodka the Proper Russian Way

1. Pour a shot of ice-cold vodka nearly to the rim. Have ready a bite-size morsel of food.

2. Say a brief toast. Not "Na Zdorovie." This is used to accompany food and will instantly betray you as a foreigner (if this hasn’t already happened). Better "vashe zdorovie" ("Your health). Be patient during the inevitable torrent of toasts and witticisms and off-color humor that will be traded by your fellow drinkers.

3. Say "Nu." Take a deep breath. Tilt your head right back, and down the entire shot, aiming it at your tonsils if you have them or straight at your stomach if you don’t.

4. Breathe out loudly, producing a sound just short of a full whistle. (Some people smell their sleeves or their slice of bread in a quick ritual gesture. This is optional.)

5. Eat your chaser purposefully but quickly.

6. Say "Oh khoroshooo" ("It feels good"), or "Khorosho poshla" ("It went down well").