Culinary Detente

Though it hasn’t made headlines here in the States, this year marks the bicentennial of U.S.-Russian Diplo-matic Relations. This anniversary got me thinking about my own small role in furthering détente between the two countries. 

In 1978, I was hired by the now-defunct United States Information Agency as a guide-interpreter for a cultural exhibit that traveled to several Soviet cities. The organizers of the 1978-79 exhibit, “Agriculture USA,” could not have chosen a more provocative theme. During the height of Brezhnev’s era of stagnation, very little food was to be seen in Soviet stores, especially in the provincial cities of Kishinev and Rostov-on-Don, where I spent two months apiece. Through images of awesome abundance in our modern, self-service supermarkets, the American exhibit was intended to show the Russians everything that we had and they did not. 

The tenor of the USIA exhibits fairly accurately reflected U.S.-Soviet relations at any given time. When relations were fraught, as they were in 1978-79, life as a guide could be difficult. In Rostov, in particular, we were frequently subjected to Soviet-style provokatsiya. Of course, as a young graduate student eager to perfect my Russian, I found it all rather fascinating, and, when I was able to speak openly about American society or to learn from the Russians about the true nature of their lives, it was wonderfully meaningful. However, given Ros-tov’s empty store shelves, I felt deeply embarrassed by our supermarket propaganda film. Even more confrontational were the actual blue-ribbon preserves we displayed from the Iowa State Fair. So it was not surprising that many visitors felt the need to let me know that they, too, could produce prize-winning preserves. They made it a point to bring me all sorts of homemade foods, in the process sharing not only the best that they had — the true gift of Russian hospitality — but also greatly contributing to my Russian culinary education. 

As the only Americans in Rostov, it was nearly impossible for us to go out without notice. And so we were largely confined to our Intourist hotel, where I quickly grew tired of the limited dining room menu. Apart from a greasy but flavorful solyanka — a piquant soup bursting with mixed meats and capers — and the occasional vyalenaya ryba, a local specialty of dried Don River fish, I recall those two months in Rostov as a time of gastronomic tedium. 

That is, until I discovered a rather decrepit bakery not far from the exhibit hall, where a cup of tea or juice could be had along with an assortment of baked goods. The first time I entered the shop, I came face-to-face with a surly saleswoman, who slapped the two crisp almond cookies I requested down on the counter so hard that they crumbled. I wisely decided to take this only as a sign of their freshness and continued to visit the shop daily, each time asking for the same two almond rings. Before long, the saleswoman and I were great friends, and she always set aside the cookies with the most almonds for me.

I no longer remember that sales-woman’s name, and I’m sure she has forgotten mine. But as I reflect on the state of U.S.-Russian relations today, I remember how she and I began to communicate, to break down wariness and reserve. My fleeting friendship with that saleswoman showed me the importance of people-to-people communication and underlined the ways in which food can serve as a natural agent of détente. Delicious as they are, these almond rings have never again tasted quite as good as they did in that fusty bakery in Rostov near the height of the Cold War.

Almond Rings

1 cup butter

1⁄2 cup sugar

2 small eggs

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 egg yolks, lightly beaten

1 cup finely chopped almonds

1⁄4 cup sugar

Cream the butter and the 1⁄2 cup of the sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, then stir in the flour. Mix well. Form into a ball and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours, until firm.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. On a floured pastry board, roll out the dough to 1⁄2-inch thickness. Cut out rounds with a 3- to 4-inch cookie cutter, preferably a fluted one. Then take a 1-inch round cutter and cut a hole out of the center of each cookie.

Before transferring the cookies to a greased baking sheet, brush the top side with the lightly beaten egg yolks, then press, eggwash side down, in the mixture of the chopped almonds and sugar.

Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, or until golden.

Makes about 24-30 cookies.

Adapted from A Taste of Russia