Lunch in Ages Past

Zinaida Serebriakova’s beautiful painting At Lunch captures a world that was soon to disappear in Russia. Painted in 1914, this intimate portrait depicts three of Serebriakova’s four children — Zhenya, Sasha, and Tanya — as they are about to enjoy their midday meal. Serebriakova’s devotion to realism is striking in the context of 1914, a year defined by extraordinary artistic experimentation: Kazimir Malevich was working on his radically abstract Suprematist canvases, Vladimir Tatlin was creating non-objective Constructivist reliefs, and Liubov Popova was painting Cubo-Futurist cityscapes. By contrast, Serebriakova belonged to the Union of Russian Artists, a group representing the second-generation World of Art movement, whose founders included her uncle Aleksandr Benois and her brother Evgeny Lansere. Thus her adherence to the principles of realism is hardly surprising.

Although Serebriakova endows her children with classical features, At Lunch nevertheless evinces a warm domesticity and a palpable maternal love. The artistic details are perfect, down to the lace of Tanya’s pinafore, the booster seat upon which she perches, the wooden trivet the hot tureen rests on, and the floral pattern of the porcelain. The painting’s overall blue and white palette is enhanced by the lustrous golden highlights of the pitcher, the rolls, the soup, and the napkin ring, subtly evoking the famous “gold in azure” of Russian Orthodox cathedrals.

The title of the painting, Za zavtrakom, reveals a different conception of mealtimes in Russia. First-year students of Russian learn that the word zavtrak means “breakfast,” while obed (“dinner”) is used for the large, midday meal — a meal that always includes soup. At suppertime the lighter uzhin is served. But in the past, the word zavtrak carried a couple of different meanings. Malenky zavtrak, or “little breakfast,” referred to an early-morning meal consisting of light, simple fare taken before the morning chores. It was only later in the day, usually between eleven and twelve, that a more substantial meal was prepared for the “second” (vtoroy) breakfast, such as the one depicted in Serebriakova’s painting.

The painting’s precision immediately reveals this table as belonging to an affluent, westernized family. The soup at the center of the composition is being served from a silver ladle by the hand of a servant. Tellingly, even as the children are portrayed with arresting beauty, the servant remains anonymous, her hand disembodied as her black dress merges with the background. The table is set with a fine white cloth and matching napkins in rings. A crystal carafe of water shimmers as if suffused with light. Pride of place is given to crusty white bulki, or rolls, made from the finest wheat flour in the French manner. The soup itself is not a thick peasant soup but a clear, golden broth, likely a chicken or veal consommé. And yet there are some homey touches. The bright yellow pitcher for milk stands next to chunky slices of dark Russian rye bread. And a classic earthenware gorshok or pot in front of the carafe possibly holds sour cream.

Serebriakova invites us into her home, to share in this peaceful moment of the day. But her domestic bliss was cut short all too soon. In 1919 her husband died of typhus. The family estate in Ukraine was plundered in the post-Revolutionary turmoil, and Serebriakova was left destitute. Because no oil paints were available, she worked in charcoal and pencil. In 1924 she was offered a commission in Paris. Serebriakova left the Soviet Union with every intention of returning, but she ultimately remained in France, eventually bringing her children Sasha and Katya to join her; Zhenya and Tanya, two of the children depicted here, remained behind. Had Serebriakova not captured this moment in such elegant detail, the era of leisurely lunches so elegantly served would  seem even more like a dream of the past.

Raisin Buns

These soft, sweet buns are perfect for an early morning breakfast or late afternoon tea. If you’re pressed for time, after shaping them you can hold them in the refrigerator overnight to bake fresh in the morning.

1 package active dry yeast

¼ cup warm water

½  cup light cream

¼ cup sugar

1 teaspoon salt

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature

Grated rind of 1 lemon

2 eggs, well beaten, at room temperature

2¾ cups flour

Filling

8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature

1⁄3 cup light cream

1½  cups seedless raisins

2 tablespoons melted butter

Dissolve the yeast in the warm water. Mix the sugar, salt and butter in a large mixing bowl. Heat the ½ cup of cream to just below the boiling point, then pour it over the mixture, stirring until the butter melts. Cool to lukewarm. Stir in the yeast, lemon rind, eggs and enough flour to make a soft dough. Cover the bowl and chill the dough in the refrigerator for 3 to 4 hours, until it is workable (it may be held overnight).

To make the filling, beat the cream cheese until smooth. Stir in the 1⁄3 cup of cream, mixing well. Beat out any lumps, then stir in the raisins.

Grease a large baking sheet. Roll the dough out 1⁄8-inch thick on a floured board. Cut it into 24 squares. Place a heaping tablespoon of the cream cheese filling in the center of each square. Bring the edges together in the center and pinch to seal. Place the buns on the baking sheet seam side down and brush them with the melted butter. Let rise, covered, until doubled in bulk, 35 to 40 minutes.

Bake the buns at 400° F for 12 minutes, until lightly browned. These buns are best when still slightly warm.

Makes 2 dozen.

Adapted from A Taste of Russia